There were some people around here that I knew. 

We went to the symphony on Saturday night.  It’s our fourth symphony of the season.  We are thinking, next year, of either getting cheaper tickets or perhaps buying season tickets to a local theater.  We both really like the symphony, but our seats, and the babysitter, start to add up.

Yes, we left the little one with a sitter on Saturday.  I’m not one of those folks who freaks out about the sitter.  As I’ve said before, I trust the people we’ve left him with and we know that, even if he cries the whole time (which he never has), he would be ok.

That said, it was a little rough when he saw us leaving while on the sitter’s lap.  He gave his big boo-boo face with the corners of his mouth pulled down in a big frown and his eye’s welling up.  I felt bad, but I knew we needed to get out.  As it happened, we were able to catch a glance of him again 30 seconds later as the car pulled past the front porch.  Then, he was calmly rocking on the swing, happy as a clam, looking around and interested in all of the nature he could see.

That’s when Dave commented from Conor’s perspective “There were some people around here that I knew.  I wonder where they are now.”  I mean, it was nice to see that he was actually quite fine.  But we were so gone in his perception, we felt a bit deflated.  

“You Are A Gardening Idiot”

So on Friday, I stopped by to pick up some herbs for the garden.  I spoke with one of the workers about how the dill had sprouted up around the garden; she was appalled that I was actually excited by that.  My reasoning is that I weed anyway.  I’ll pull up the plants I don’t want and save the $5 by transplanting the ones that I do. 

She saved her true disgust, however, for when she found out that I had actually planted the mint in my garden and not left it in a pot.  “Go Home.  GO HOME NOW and PULL IT OUT OF THE GROUND.  IT WILL TAKE OVER YOUR ENTIRE YARD IF YOU DON’T REMOVE IT.  USE ROUND UP NOW,” she commanded me.  First, I had pulled it up in the fall and I did go home and dig a humongous hole around the one plant I did see thus eliminating the potential for a mint-atosphre.  But here are some thoughts.

First, can mint really be that bad?  If so, why is all of the United States not covered in mint?  Surely, I cannot be the only “idiot” in this world who has planted mint in the ground.  The only way I can believe it is truly that invasive is if at some point, mint morphs into kudzu.  Because driving around, I see a lot of kudzu.  I don’t see a lot of mint.

Second, did this woman not know who she was talking to?  I am the garden goddess of destruction for creeping plants.  Let me remind you all of Anita versus the Ivy, parts I, II, and III.  (well, I can’t find Part I, it must have occurred pre-bloggus).  I’ll just refresh your memory:  it took me 3 years, but I single handedly pulled out a 50 foot bed of evil creeping ivy myself.  It is GONE and DEAD and I AM THE DESTROYER.  Granted, it did throw some poison at me (while I was pregnant no less!), but I laughed at its puny green head and it’s gone and it’s not coming back. 

So no stinkin’ mint is going to get the better of me.  Bring it on, minty boy.  Let’s see what you’ve got. 

7:31:04 AM