My husband Ted and I, and our friends Candy and Dave, dug the first herb plants into the ground the summer after we moved to our log house.
I'd never had much luck growing herbs on my windowsill in the city, and I was nervous. I shoved my black thumb into a gardening glove and tried to forget about all the plants I'd lost over the years.
We put in the Simon-and-Garfunkel herbs (you know, parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme). We planted chives, because what's easier to grow than chives? We had no idea that the anise hyssop would outlive everything, and would spread more quickly than the mint, which also spread quickly.
The parsley never reseeded, and the basil grew so tall it fell over, but that first summer, we learned how wonderful it is to cook with fresh herbs.
Each year the garden has grown, and though we share the harvest with beetles and rabbits and deer, we're hooked on walking out the front door, clippers in hand, and snipping off a sprig of this or a few leaves of that.