If only I didn't have work to do...

I want it.

I want it.

I want it.

Now.

But I am in the Bronx. Trying to work.

Perhaps tonight I will try and make a Lemongrass Champagne Mojito. Recipe courtesy of the Gilded Fork. Oh minty deliciousness.

I had grand aspirations to start growing my own herbs (mint, basil, etc) this summer. I bought a mint plant near the end of June and had hoped it would turn into a renewable source for all my cocktail garnishing needs. Even with vigilant watering and pruning, however, the plant died. Last week I had to remove the crunchy brown carcass as it was depressing me. Isn't mint supposed to be easy to grow? It's practically a weed!

I've never been good with plants. About the only plant I've been able to take care of has been the pothos ivy in our living room which is about as high maintenance as a dead cat. Ok maybe they require a little more care than that. I tried the neglect route with my first ivy plant which went horribly and have put more effort into the plants in the living room. But now every time I pass a New York City window with flowers and mini-gardens a certain sense of bittnerness swells up inside me. What exactly is wrong with me? I'm a reasonably caring person. I can take care of a few fish and a cat. Hey I take great care of my mammal!

Maybe it has something to do with my subpar arts and crafts skills too...

Oh well. I'll just keep buying my damn mint from the grocery store.