Out of town for two weeks. A neighbor waters the garden. What a surprise when we get back: In the deer-protected garden, an overgrown plot with half a dozen ripe tomatoes and dozens of over-ripe green beans. To say nothing of weeds. The zucchini is thriving and appears to have a baby zucchini on it. What a thrill to harvest the tomatoes, even if two have been started by slugs or small animals unknown to me.
But the beans! What can you do with the puffy, tough over-ripe harvest? I open a few to take out the beans–could these be planted for another crop of beans? 
[LJ says use them as you would dried beans. They take less time to cook--between, say, 25 and 45 minutes depending on how long they've been on the vine. Just simmer them in water to cover by 2 inches with some aromatics and a little olive oil for flavor. Like dried beans, they can go in soups and stews. You also can dress them in vinaigrette while still warm for a nice salad.]
Up in the herb garden, the mint is poking its heady stems out from under the hydrangeas and threatening to overtake the chive and parsley. I pull some of it from its roots. Some one has to take charge here. The basil is a castle in the air. It, too, needs a pruning, but not from the roots.
The pot garden is faring better. Nothing overgrown here. The tomato plant is hosting two teeny weeny green tomatoes. The zucchini appears to be bearing the smallest of fruit. But the leaves look healthy all around. They have survived my absence–thanks to a caring neighbor.
What of Les Jardins garden? She, too, was away for a few weeks. Her raised beds have gone to pot–nothing salvageable there. She calls it a disaster! But her tomatoes in a pot are glorious–rich and full leaves and plenty of starter tomatoes.
Pots seem to be the preferred way to go this wet year.
My mint, now in its fifth year of production, is threatening to move right in and overwhelm its neighbors–chive and parsley. Sometimes I have to pull it out by its new roots. But when it starts growing big and tall, I take a shears to it. What I don’t use, I pop into a pretty glass and set it out as I would a bouquet of flowers. The mint smells and looks crisp and clean. It freshens up the kitchen and the bathroom as well.
My mint has returned in full force. It’s the herb that keeps giving. A few years ago, when I asked a friend for a cutting, he gave me one. When I looked at him as if he were being a bit ungenerous with the mint, he warned me: put this in the ground, then stand back. Indeed. It is threatening to take over the whole herb garden. But it is a key ingredient for a tabouleh recipe I got from a Lebanese friend. Frankly, I can’t get enough of the stuff.