lemon balm tea

in: weeding yard, drinking home grown tea

out: driving to the apothecary, money spent on tea

I drank my last cup of chamomile tea yesterday evening. I had purchased the flowers at our local apothecary, a step up from the individual bags I was buying before that. Organic chamomile, accidentally spilled in customs and mixed with a little mallow and anise, and therefore 20% off. Score. The tea was my nightly kindness to myself. I could just go and buy more, and I imagine I will, but not quite yet. 

When we purchased our house ten years ago, we had a single lemon balm plant that had stubbornly taken up residence by our foundation and grew each year to great depths deep inside our window well. Wanting to avoid herbicide, my plan was to slowly kill this deep-rooted beast by cutting off all of its leaves — again and again. It inhabits an annoying little corner that is easy to ignore, and, as though it walked out of a salon with a cute new cut, it thrived. Its progeny have also flourished. Last year, we knew that it was a battle between the lemon balm and every other plant in our messy back yard. We dug it up, thoroughly extracting each root we found. If I am anything, I am thorough. And, it’s back this year with a vengeance. I have lacked the motivation to weed it, one more thing on the endless list. However, after drinking my last cup of chamomile, this became easy to move up the queue. I will make tea from plants residing in my yard — I will weed this lemon balm, steep and drink it. 

I just had a cup for dinner and another with dessert. Dang, where’s my chamomile? Actually, there’s some potential, I’ll give it some time to grow on me.