Are you ready for fall? Did you see it could frost tonight –  in the Metro. Fall was an abstract concept on my calendar just a week ago. This morning, I had to break out the polar fleece.

Maybe like me, you’re ready for apple crisp and planting bulbs and little fires on the patio. Then again, I’m just not ready to run out and cover tender plants, protect all my fruit trees from the deer and build those raised beds I’ve been putting off.  Suddenly it feels like there are a thousand things to do.

But I’m trying. I’ve been canning pasta sauce like mad. I even made a yummy dish out of cherry tomatoes that I skewered and grilled. Last week I saw free chokecherries on craigslist, and I picked half a bucket. I’ve never made chokecherry  jelly before, but I’m eager to try it, even though I hear it’s hard to get it to set properly.

I’m not sure I’m ready to say goodbye to the pleasures of summer. Are you? How long do you try to extend them? Will you cover your plants tonight? Is there a point where you usually just let fall be fall?

Chalk it up to the healing power of nature. My garden came back.

In early June, it was decimated by a hit-and-run hailstorm. Most of my garden — the hostas, the ferns and the hydrangeas and rose bushes that I had just planted the day before — got pummeled by the nickel-sized hail. My garden was a mass of shredded leaves and broken stems.

There was no way I could afford to replace all those plants. So I did what the experts recommended: I cut back. I removed all the broken stems and cut off the leaves that were badly torn. My garden looked pathetic, like I’d gone at it with a weed whacker.

To cover some of the holes, I bought some annuals. And lots of generous gardeners offered me divisions from their gardens. I planted them, but I really didn’t have much hope. Turns out I was wrong.

I guess I was lucky the storm did its damage early in the season, when the plants still had a lot of energy to grow. Most of the hostas sprouted new leaves (albeit not as big as the originals), the roses put on good growth and the hydrangeas (Limelights) bloomed beautifully.

They’re still in bloom. And I’m still in awe. My garden is no showcase. Because I planted without a whole lot of thought, I need to move just about everything. But I’m thrilled that something so broken could fix itself.

So how did your garden fare? Do you have plants that took a lickin’ but kept on tickin? Or did insects, disease and the dry weather take a toll on some of your faves?

Funny how rain gardens are so popular suddenly. Not that we have much of a choice, really.

Is it getting to be a challenge to get your lawn and gardening in, in between dodging downpours? How are you adjusting? Building that ark yet? Or are your plants loving it?

I actually got up early yesterday to get some planting done before the daily deluge hit and I felt giddy getting to sling dirt for two hours. The day before, I had to hop on the mower before the jungle closed in.

But I think I’m losing ground (not to mention a little dirt, via erosion). When it rains, I come inside and shop. Okay, I say I’m doing laundry, but truly, it’s not like you can’t do both at once. I’ve noticed that many mail order garden places are having end-of-shipping-season sales. I couldn’t resist the “Buy 1, Get 2″ deals at Wayside Gardens and Park Seed. And there are some nice half-price specials at Bluestone Perennials, too. I’m sure I’ll be discovering more as I go (have any suggestions?)

Of course, the problem is that Mr. UPS can come to my house in the rain, but I am not quite ready to go out in the rain to plant what I order. Though I am getting to the point where I’ll have to. I’m about ready to order some rainy gardening gear. Like maybe these funky Wellington boots or these Bogs boots. And I’ve already traded my straw cowboy hat for one of these nice Seattle Sombreros (maybe they should be called St. Paul Sombreros, since we’ve had the same amount of rain Seattle has had so far this month).

Then again, maybe I should just give up and spend my money doting on the weather with a decorative rain gauge or a spiffy digital, self-emptying one.

So we’re driving home Saturday night at about 8:30, when I see something funny. “What’s that white stuff on the ground?” I ask my hubby. The answer was not so funny. It was hail. At least 2 inches of it.

We’d missed the storm, but my garden hadn’t. Even tho it was almost dark, I could see that most of my hosta had been shredded, the hydrangea I’d JUST PLANTED was completely leafless and the morning glory seedlings were mashed. The crane’s bill was matted. The ferns were broken off at the ground. The sedum were stripped. I shoveled a foot or so of accumulated hail off the two shrub roses I’d JUST PLANTED and went to bed. “Things will look better in the morning,” I thought.

I thought wrong. Sunday morning, things looked worse. So I did the bravest thing I could: I went kayaking. OK, OK, so I’m in denial. I know I’ll have to cut off the shreaded foliage. I know that most of my plants will look sorta sad for the rest of the summer — if they survive. (Will a coral bell with only one leaf fare well?) But I also know that other folks have been hit much harder by storms already this summer. (Think of the folks in Hugo.) And that there’s no way I can replace all those plants.

So I’m giving the Restorative Properties of Nature some time to work her magic. Next weekend, I’ll get back into the garden — with a clippers and a better attitude. What else can a gardener do?

I’ve been patient, but now I’m starting to lose hope. It’s been a slow, cold spring, so I’ve been waiting and watching. “They’ll come up,” I kept telling myself. But they haven’t. And now I’m guessing they won’t.

I hate to admit it, but my shade garden took a hit. Could it be because we finally had a real Minnesota winter and I didn’t mulch well? Whatever the reason, I lost a surprising number of perennials. Some brunnera, a ligularia and a couple of coral bells.

I loved those darn plants. Especially the Jack Frost brunnera, with its variegated leaves and forget-me-not flowers. But after a couple trips to the garden centers, I’ve decided I’m not going to replace them. Hey, these are pricey perennials. And what’s to say the same thing won’t happen again?

Instead, I’m practicing survival-of-the-fittest gardening. I’m dividing shade perennials (sensitive ferns, European ginger, bloodroot) from other parts of my garden and moving them into the holes left by my MIA plants.

But I’m still bummed. So can you help me out here? By way of consolation, can you share of few of your garden losses? At least tell me I’m not the only one!