Can’t wait to try this with some snips from my overgrown herb garden.
This is the time of year when I start to feel guilty.
Well, I should qualify that. This is the time of year when I start to feel guilty about gardening.
I am, ostensibly, an avid gardener. I have vegetables and flowers and herbs and trees and bushes filling seven plots around our one acre.
I work hard all spring, or most of spring, well, some of it, to get the weeds out and encourage the good stuff to be good.
And then I think I’m done. The weeds come back, the vegetables ripen, the herbs flower. In truth, my herb garden has become more of a habitat than a cultivated plot.
Meanwhile, the trees and bushes reach out to be fixed and trimmed, and I walk past all of it every day after work, right into the house to put my feet up/make dinner/shop/drink beer/go on Facebook, and think about how I really need to get out there … just as soon as … whatever.
The herbs are the worst. I hate buying herbs. They cost too much and I never use them all. I try to dry the extras, but I’m pretty half-hearted about that, too. But just the thought of them going to flower gives me an instant shot of negative energy.
All this said, I do love going out the back door with a pair of shears and poking through the weeds looking for my thyme, mint, oregano, chives, etc. I also keep, somewhat successfully, when I think to water it, basil on the windowsill in the kitchen. Nothing gives me more embarrassment than waking up in the morning and finding that half dead.
What I need is something to put them all in.
Martha Stewart recently had a slideshow of ways to use leftover herbs that has re-energized my resolve to
actually use the fruits of my mediocre labor. I really want to try
… just as soon as … whatever.