She started as a tiny sprig only 14 months ago, riding shotgun in a plastic cup adjacent to any Starbuck's crack I could score during the final (yay!) move from North Carolina to Colorado last summer ... through Kansas ... which in my opinion ain't nothin' but in the way. I don't use the word hate very often here, but when it comes to driving through that state, honey - I'm drinkin' the hateraide and do everything I can to avoid it. (Props to David Sedaris and Janet Evanovich books on CD for making that drive less painful.)
A friend has this beautiful organic garden, and from it she would often fill bags with spinach, herbs, vegetables and send me home with them. We would sit on her back deck, drink wine, chat, and sometimes it came to this:
The first spring day in 2009 that didn't suck (and we all know how I feel about spring {reference 4-letter-word-infested rant here} - another glass of hateraide please) was the day she sent me home with the Mint sprig. Once I sobered up from all the sangria, that is - and the leftover sangria she also sent home with me so I could repeat the above activity on my own deck the following evening.
No sooner did I get the Colorado house up and running did I plant Mint, and she appeared happy - as if there's any other way to be here. Every time I smell Mint I think of my friend on the east coast, and her peaceful 'earth motherly' spirit.
When I returned from Italy this summer, Mint had not only survived a brutal Colorado winter, but launched a hostile takeover of an entire corner of the garden! She, once a tiny 4" sprig, was this behemoth bush of terror threatening to conduct cross river rock border operations toward Lavender territory.
Lavender isn't having any of it.
This morning I started cutting Mint back a few feet and swear heard that out-ta-control shrub laughing, as if to say, "As soon as you board that plane, bitch, this garden is ALL mine." (Muuahaahaa)
Rose, meanwhile, is watching, waiting. She's become a quiet, elegant, yet prominent presence. "Bring it, herb."
As I stuffed another shopping bag full of Mint's cuttings the Geraniums were getting snarky from the patio, "Hey, Mint! We got three words for you! MO-HEE-TOE!" They're pretty, but not the smartest flowers in the bunch.
Yet every year I have to have them. Red. Red Geraniums have been mandatory since I snapped this picture exactly five years ago from Cortona looking toward Lake Trasimeno:
They and the Tuscan Rosemary are the equalizers - in more ways than one ...
I make jokes about my little garden, how the mulch is never 'fluffy' enough, or how the plants are "on their own" for the winter. Yet, nearly every plant in this garden is a reminder of someone or some place that I love. How perfect earlier this summer when I sat back on a bed of river rock to admire a new herbal installment that my hand landed on the heart-shaped rock in the picture above!
Now ... about that Mojito - should go great with tonight's Italian grammar lesson on The Imperfect.
Nope, not making this up - the Chiaretto Classico I was drinking last night was not strong enough.
This lesson calls for something with a little more forza (strength) - perhaps something with a little Mint sprig!
A friend has this beautiful organic garden, and from it she would often fill bags with spinach, herbs, vegetables and send me home with them. We would sit on her back deck, drink wine, chat, and sometimes it came to this:
The first spring day in 2009 that didn't suck (and we all know how I feel about spring {reference 4-letter-word-infested rant here} - another glass of hateraide please) was the day she sent me home with the Mint sprig. Once I sobered up from all the sangria, that is - and the leftover sangria she also sent home with me so I could repeat the above activity on my own deck the following evening.
No sooner did I get the Colorado house up and running did I plant Mint, and she appeared happy - as if there's any other way to be here. Every time I smell Mint I think of my friend on the east coast, and her peaceful 'earth motherly' spirit.
When I returned from Italy this summer, Mint had not only survived a brutal Colorado winter, but launched a hostile takeover of an entire corner of the garden! She, once a tiny 4" sprig, was this behemoth bush of terror threatening to conduct cross river rock border operations toward Lavender territory.
Lavender isn't having any of it.
Rose, meanwhile, is watching, waiting. She's become a quiet, elegant, yet prominent presence. "Bring it, herb."
As I stuffed another shopping bag full of Mint's cuttings the Geraniums were getting snarky from the patio, "Hey, Mint! We got three words for you! MO-HEE-TOE!" They're pretty, but not the smartest flowers in the bunch.
Yet every year I have to have them. Red. Red Geraniums have been mandatory since I snapped this picture exactly five years ago from Cortona looking toward Lake Trasimeno:
They and the Tuscan Rosemary are the equalizers - in more ways than one ...
I make jokes about my little garden, how the mulch is never 'fluffy' enough, or how the plants are "on their own" for the winter. Yet, nearly every plant in this garden is a reminder of someone or some place that I love. How perfect earlier this summer when I sat back on a bed of river rock to admire a new herbal installment that my hand landed on the heart-shaped rock in the picture above!
Now ... about that Mojito - should go great with tonight's Italian grammar lesson on The Imperfect.
This lesson calls for something with a little more forza (strength) - perhaps something with a little Mint sprig!
if you have excess mint make Dutch tea. It uses 4 or 5 twigs of mint for each tea cup: plank them in the mug/glass and fill with hot water.
ReplyDeleteI imagine it a good way to keep the mint at bay, it requires so much mint that I do not have enough in my garden - or maybe it is just that I cannot pick flowers, I feel like I'm leaving a gaping hole in the 'landscape';-)
see if you can get to the photo.
http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000039214384#!/photo.php?pid=339423&id=100000039214384&ref=fbx_album
Ciao Fiammetta - love this idea of using the whole sprigs (as I had just been using the leaves) for tea. Yes, I was able to see the photo, and it looked beautiful - I think my friends will enjoy this - thank you! Oh - and my poor mint got a horrible 'buzz cut' yesterday just to contain it a bit - I think I too, cut her back way too much...
ReplyDelete