So Mister and I dug up a plot of our front yard for the maters. And that will surely be grand. I certainly hope so anyway.
But that left us with the poor, pitiful planter area in the backyard that had been dedicated to the tomatoes last year. They didn’t fare very well, and I have a personal theory that the soil in that area was tainted by years of cigarette ash (as the former caretaker smoked). Anyhoo, Mister got out there and cleaned the dirt, y’all. I know it sounds crazy, but that’s what he did. He jazzed that dirt right up, and before I knew what had happened, he’d gone and planted himself a mini mint farm.
If you’ve never grown mint, there are a few things one should know. First, it spreads like crazy. I mean like a dread disease. If it isn’t contained (as in in a container), it knows no bounds. Also, it’s a little weed-like. If you forget to water it here and there, it doesn’t freak out on you. That’s a good thing. It also comes in about a jillion varieties. There’s the old standby spearmint, of course. There’s also peppermint. But did you know there’s chocolate mint? And Kentucky Colonel mint?
In a few months, I expect the plot to be filled with mint and you know what that means? It means Mister will start making Mojitos. You just have to trust me when I tell you he’s very, very good at it. I am totally looking forward to that fine summer day. Word.