The eastern hedgerow of our property was not strictly ours to clean up until Ben bought the farm on the other side of the divide.

Even after Ben bought the farm, it took awhile to tackle this problem area. First Ben needed to focus on getting his farmhouse ready to rent out. Then this summer, he needed to rid his ten acre hayfield of all the scrubby shrubs that sprang up when mowing the field got to be too much for the former owners. HOWEVER, when this job was done, Ben and Jim decided to tackle the hedgerow between the two properties.

At the beginning of the summer, this hedgerow was an impenetrable thicket of wild grapes, wild honeysuckle, wild roses, barb wire fencing and myriad scrub trees all creating a barrier between the properties about ten feet wide.

Ben and Jim went to work ridding the hedgerow of this tangle of vegetation and rusty wire thus opening up space for some of the nicer hardwoods in the hedgerow to prosper.

The barb wire was especially problematic. The lovely man we bought our farm from appears to have had an almost unhinged relationship with barb wire as if he thought the Soviets of the cold war era were living next door not some docile sheep.

It has been mind boggling to see how much barb wire Ben and Jim have pulled out of this hedgerow. We can only wonder what kind of livestock break out this mild mannered farmer was expecting when he felt compelled to put up five or six layers of fencing between his land and the neighboring farm.

What a relief to have this paranoid protective energy removed from the hedgerow. We can almost hear the remaining trees sigh with relief!

Today, Hedgerow Summer continues with the task of pulling up poison ivy at the top of the hedgerow where it mets True Road. Poison ivy has a vibration a lot like barb wire, so it comes as no surprise that in a hedgerow rife with barb wire, poison ivy moved into place in a big way.

Ben and Jim donned their version of hazmat suits early this morning and started pulling the vines.

First reports are that this work has made even the removal of all the barb wire fencing feel like a pleasure. Their constant companion, MayMay, abandoned ship when a yellow jacket nest added insult to injury. Now it is noon and about ninety outside so I am sure those suits feel really good.

I just hope Ben and Jim made a game plan for who is cutting them out of the suits and how. I am NOT planning to get involved! Already there has been way too much talk of accidentally having vines brush their faces and problems with safely eating snacks. I don’t want to join them in looking down the barrel of the new school year with a blistering case of poison ivy!

In fact, all of us are keeping our distance from our crazy menfolk today. As they soldier on, the rest of us are relieved to be VERY BUSY in the office, able only to shout encouraging words from a safe distance before retreating to our poison ivy free realm.

With my first perennial garden in the early eighties, I had one frosty peach Day Lily called Theresa Hall which is still with me. I keep it mostly for sentimental reasons as its Flowers are small and easily lost in the June garden.

A gardener friend gave me a couple of the classic June blooming Lemon Lilies and one early season pale orange Lily. I liked how this orange Flower showed up in a season of mostly blues and pinks. I also transplanted some of the Day Lilies that grow wild around here to a spot at the top of our driveway. They are a tall deep orange Lily that grows with abandon along the roadsides of New Hampshire and Vermont. They have liked holding up their spot at the entrance to the farm, and I have liked having them there.

In general however, the stunning developments in the world of Day Lilies passed me by until a few years ago when I started to pay attention to Day Lilies again. It was bliss to discover then plant a dozen or two of the colorful new cultivars with their divergent bloom times. Suddenly Day Lilies were not just a blip in the busy June landscape but a luxurious friend all summer long

The gardens here now contain a deluge of Day Lilies. Below are some of the ones blooming right now. I relish how many others are still to come in August and September.

We had a much needed downpour last night. Even the wildflowers were drooping before this night of rain. The Day Lilies deserve a nod for having managed to look fresh and beautiful even through the preceding crisp hot weeks, though I must say this morning as I went out to deadhead them, they looked as refreshed by the rain as everyone else.

When the kid’s Uncle Steve coined the phrase “The Summer of Steve” he was talking about his fantasy summer of boating, golfing and kicking back on his deck with Sports Illustrated.

For us, “The Summer of Ben” is an entirely different kettle of fish, at least as fantastic as “The Summer of Steve” and actually involves fish….. as in fried fresh sardines, shown below with roasted garlic and fresh pea tapenade, fresh salsa with cilantro and homemade bread.

Yup, “The Summer of Ben” involves Ben laboring all day on his thirty five acre piece of farmland to open up the hedgerows, clear the field of wild roses

and of course throw the ball for MayMay.

THEN…. he comes next door to cook dinner for all of us. EVERY NIGHT!

My only responsibility is to tell him what’s out in the vegetable garden up for grabs then during the hour or two that I have always spent tossing together a meal for the family, I go off and read or take a swim or putter in the garden. BLISS.

When I said broccoli and red onions, Ben delivered a bacon, raisin and broccoli salad.

When I said green onions and carrots we feasted on a sesame cold noodle salad.

When I said high summer, Ben tossed out pizza with scratch dough and homemade mozzarella and homemade pesto along with fresh tomatoes and zucchini.

When Will clamored for his idea of food, Ben made him

Spareribs and

Crab Rangoon- for the same meal!

May “The Summer of Ben” last forever!