"Did you ever imagine you'd see such a little girl pick such a big carrot?" -- Cecilia Anne Fitzpatrick, 4 years old

Yes, the carrots are having an excellent year and, thanks in part to Cecilia, they are rapidly disappearing. This has been a magical year for the vegetable plot. The freezer is stuffed to capacity yet the produce is still coming in. The broccoli continues to yield and snap peas are coming in strong.

I have a friend who weighs her produce as she processes it so she knows just how much of a return she is getting. I go by how many plants my garden will hold. Twenty broccoli and 20 romanesque cauliflower plants are the basis of our winter vegetable supply. Spinach, chard, snap peas, leeks and green beans offer a change of pace. All of this goes into the freezer. Garlic, shallots, onions and potatoes can be stored in our too warm basement for not long enough.

It all works quite nicely. Takes a little planning but, hey, that's what I'm here for. I believe in growing as much of our food as possible. I sometimes (note that "sometimes") miss the five acres out East with goats, chickens, turkeys, ducks and geese. It made for a very comfortable life style. And a lot of work.

I actually managed to tidy up the perennial beds this afternoon. That's right -- in one afternoon. Even I was impressed.

And as I was moving along, thinking about forget-me-nots (of course) it dawned on me what I need for an understory for these beds. I can't believe that I haven't thought of this or one of you didn't draw it to my attention: annuals. This is the first year ever that I haven't started annuals. The thought process for not doing so went something like this: I didn't want to. What a mistake.

Annuals are plants that last just one season. They are somewhat out of favor, perennials (plants that live on for years, presumably) being the darlings of the moment. So each year I start a few flats of annuals that I have decided I can't live without, that add joy and, just as important, color to the garden. The color starts early and lasts until frost. The trick is to keep the seed heads pinched off (deadheading).

Another beauty to annuals is their growth habit. At least the ones I like do not form mats (like forget-me-nots) so the minor bulbs will be able to put on their show, the annuals will come on to cover up the spent foliage and all will be well. Even better is the self-sowing habit of many annuals. If I don't deadhead them they will strew their seed here and there and come up in the spring. They are easy to pull out if they show up somewhere you don't want them and just as easy to move to an ideal location.

The list of annuals that I did not start is amazing and I miss them with my whole heart. This has been a tough lesson learned. Cosmos, nemophilia (baby blue eyes), godetia, linum rubrum, alyssum. Good grief, just making the list makes me weep. What a fool. And the list goes on and on. Never again will I allow this to happen to me.

OK, so I did start a few pansies and lobelia, just enough to put into the window box with the tuber begonias. But not enough.

A few nemophilia and godetia have self-sown. And each time I go out to the garden I marvel how lovely they are, never making the connection that they are the reason my garden looks so barren. I need all the rest of them.

This brings me to the self-sow part of this: Sometimes they do and sometimes they don't. I will start flats of everything next season. The extras will find homes among friends and neighbors, they always have in the past.

What about biennials? They are the ones that bloom the second year and then die. Well, if you keep them deadheaded their chance of living on as a perennial is excellent. Sweet William (dianthus barbatus) is a favorite of mine. They make a long-lasting cut flower, smell delicious, look good even in the rain and add some vibrant color when the garden needs it the most, like right about now.

If you find yourself in this same situation, i.e. annual-less, learn. And never let it happen again.

Keep gardening. It may be September, but the season is not over.

Keep weeding. You do not want weeds to go to seed (self-sow) in your beds.

Keep watering if necessary (under the eaves).

Carpe diem.

Rosemary Fitzpatrick has been gardening with gusto in Homer for 30 years. This year marks the 19th anniversary of her column.