I quit smoking.
Okay, I lied. I am in the weaning phase in which I accept drags here and there.
But for all intents and purposes, I have quit. So, this morning I converted the flower pots on my back porch from ash trays to herb gardens.
Bright and early, I stopped by the local nursery in Silverlake, and confessed brightly to a big man named Jim that I didn’t know anything about… well, I waved my hands to the overwhelming selection of trees, flowers, shrubs, plants, herbs, soil, pots, etc. He asked me a number of questions about what I wanted, and we narrowed it down to herbs, especially ones that I could use for cooking.
That’s when he led me to an enormous outdoor shelf with an herb selection so varied that I suddenly felt giddy with possibility. Chamomile – fresh brewed bedtime tea! Rosemary – dried for my eye pillow! Basil- add to salads! And on and on. Jim let me bask from one end of the shelf to another, reading about the different strains and smelling everything. I settled on Lemon Balm to add to sparkling water or iced tea, Parsley for salads (it gives you good breath too!), Chamomile, and Basil. I bought a bag of organic soil as well as fertilizer, and a mini shovel. The whole affair cost me $35 (worth about 5 packs of cigs, a good trade).
I dumped the old cig butts and dry dirt from my three pots, and sat on the ground working the fresh soil through my hands as I refilled them. I remember a naturopath telling me to touch fresh soil everyday for its healing effects. I see why. I then gently planted the herbs and watered them. Let the green-thumbing begin!
(As I write this, they are dancing lightly under the California sun. It’s a happy day).