You need to harvest.

Spinach is in the freezer; basil has been turned into pesto; cauliflower is being devoured as is several kinds of lettuce.

We are merrily crunching our way through several cool, crisp cucumbers.

The radishes are almost gone -- so sad.

Sungold cherry tomato is its reliable sweet, tasty self.

The rainbow chard is ready to enter the blanching pot and be popped into the freezer.

Green beans are setting.

Potatoes, onions, shallots, garlic and leeks are all promising.

This is as good as it gets.

If you have thought about starting a vegetable garden for years and have found excuses not to, I have no sympathy for you. None whatsoever. This is the year.

With next to zero rain, the weeds are almost non-existent, fine with me. I can make it around the vegetable plot, weeding and cultivating, in a matter of minutes. Plus, everything there is so densely planted that they are shading out what weeds would be growing if there was enough water for them. They are out of luck.

The perennial beds are so dry. Yes, they are being watered from our catchment system and that is adequate, but not all beds get watered every day. They are on a rotation system. There are plenty of you who don't ever water perennials in the first place. I would like to join that club, but I have the water available, the time (sort of), and a deep-seated driving desire to help those perennial beds look gorgeous.

The garden parties are in full swing. I try to have a different group each time I host one. But when the peonies bloom, anyone whose company I have enjoyed will be invited. I can hardly wait. Watch: peonies bloom and it rains, won't be the first garden party in the rain.

There are several different columbine here. I love all the colors and the way they dance in the wind. But the aphids also love them. This is where watering with a hose comes in handy, I can direct the water on the aphids and send them plunging to earth.

I know that soaker hoses are really and truly more efficient and I really should go that route but there is something so pleasant about standing around at 6 a.m. with a hose and taking a good look at what I have going on. I can spot insect, rodent or bird damage. Whether or not I do anything about it depends on the rest of the day.

But best of all is the quiet. Right here in the city of Homer there is nothing but breeze, birds and me.

Watering in the morning is the way to go. The plants are still cool from the night and our very cold water will not be a shock to them. As the day progresses the water on the leaves will dry, thwarting any fungus that may attack a wet plant at night. Plus slug season is almost here and they love nothing more than a wet plant at night.

I have yet to understand those who water in the middle of the day. The wind is blowing for all its worth, and blowing the water every which way to boot. It is truly hot so the plants are warm and the water cold, not a good combination. Plus the ground dries almost as fast as the water hits it.

Set your alarm for early, pull on a long-sleeved T and head for the garden, hose in hand and eyes ready to observe.

Robins are feasting on what few strawberries there are. They are bold and cheeky. I will be standing right there and they will land and start munching. I must be too plump and grandmotherly to be mistaken for a scarecrow. So be it.

Speaking of birds, if you can pull it off, get a bird bath. I have two and they are an endless source of entertainment. There is one on the ground. This is not recommended because the birds can be prey to cats. But my local cat hasn't been around in a while and the birdbath looks so comfortable on the ground, nestled under the lilacs and the birds seem to love it there. So it stays. There can be several different kinds of birds at once in the bath. So much for birds of a feather flock together.

Have you noticed how everything that took such a beating this winter is coming back with a vengeance? The Heidi rose is filling in the blanks with the speed of light. The Theresa Bugnet rose is doing the same. I am so grateful. I was counting on these plants working with their root stock to make a quick comeback and I'm right. The common lilac is about 18 inches high. A friend offered the excellent suggestion that I choose what shoots to keep and prune out the others. At the moment they are all weak and floppy.

Of all the plants to not either die or sustain damage this winter, the hydrangea paniculata is going about business as usual. What a hoot. It is such an iffy plant here in the Far North. But it is setting buds and should put on show early this fall. My fingers are crossed.

Go forth and water, deadhead and enjoy.