Of course there are more weeds. They come back, sometimes with a vengeance. Many sources claim that weeds tell you about conditions in your soil, but there’s a lot of confusion around what they’re trying to say. Goldenrod and ox-eyed daisies are supposed to grow in wet, poorly drained soil, but they love my sandy, dry, fast-draining yard. I do like these two, but do they know that? Goldenrod lights up the end of summer, and ox-eyed daisies make excellent bouquets. The daisies get very happy standing in a vase of water all week, soggy at last.

Plantain, said to indicate clay soils, grows in the sandy stuff right next to the ox-eyed daisies; Queen Anne’s lace is supposed to like poor soil, but out along the road edges here it grows mixed in with chicory, which is supposed to indicate rich soil. More interesting is the claim for dandelions, which grow in compacted soil but get right to work loosening it up.

I’ve always pulled and tossed purslane, but having recently come across a trove of new purslane recipes  here  I may bring some of it into the kitchen and give it a try. And I was surprised to learn that woodruff is sometimes considered a weed. I like it as a groundcover, twining with the lamium.

So, for weeding, first you have to decide which are the weeds, retaining the right to reclassify as you go along. Then, remember weeding is an ongoing practice, not an event with a beginning and an end. It’s lovely to sit and enjoy a garden at the end of the day, but the real pleasure is in the gardening.

The lawns of my suburban childhood were planted with a mix of grass and white clover. I remember being told this was because clover “fixes nitrogen,” which made me wonder what was wrong with it. You had to be very careful walking through the clover because it was full of bees, and since bees were said to be busy, I figured they were busy helping the clover fix nitrogen.

Bees or not, the best thing about clover was spending long afternoons looking through it for four-leafers. If you found a four leaf clover you had good luck and – in our neighborhood’s culture – you got to make a wish.

Having the internet right handy as I write, I looked this up: the probability of finding a four leaf clover is one in 5,000 or 1 in 10,000.  Lucky me! In the last couple of years since I spread clover seed in the yard and garden, I have found dozens of four leaf clovers, possibly a hundred of them, plus many five-leafers and the occasional six leafer. They come from the same two clumps every time, so I’m assuming this is genetic rather than something weird going on in my garden. The tomatoes seem normal.

I bring the lucky clovers indoors, make my wishes (one per stem), and put them in small vases. When they fade and dry I collect them in this basket. I can’t tell you what I wish for, because naturally if you tell anyone, your wish will not come true. But I will say it’s ambitious, it’s in the public interest, and so far it’s making headway.