Lemon Balm Cuppa Review

The tisane recipe was a definite two thumbs up – delicious,  and I have no reservations about recommending the recipe -- but I have a couple of pointers that I’ve learned from experience.

Pointer No. 1:  The water temperature should be very hot but not boiling. Don’t make a giant pot with cold water and bring it to a boil – the resulting grass stew is horrible. Make an individual cup – much tastier!

Pointer No. 2: Rough up the leaves before putting the lemon balm into the cup and adding the hot water. The oils from the lemon balm are released and make for a very fragrant cup.

Pointer No. 3: Don’t forget to rinse the lemon balm leaves before adding to the cup. (The first cup had a friendly little critter that floated to the top and winked right at me.)

When Life Hands You Lemon Balm, Make Tisane

 

It’s been taking over huge portions of my garden, and though I love it and love the smell of it--  my lemon balm has been driving me well… balmy. Of course, I know of all the ways you can use it, but today wandering through twitter, I happened upon someone saying that they had lemon balm tisane in their fridge. Aha! But of course… I thought to myself…  I haven’t been using my little grey cells. Hercule Poirot could have clued me in on this. This famous imbiber of hot chocolate and tisanes would be rolling around in his grave, knowing that just today I had composted a large bunch of lemon balm.

But things have changed Hercule!  I have decided to try my hand at making a tisane. To whit, I have gone online and found several recipes, and many a site purporting that once I start drinking lemon balm tisane my memory issues may be resolved. This site seems to have the best lemon balm tisane recipe. So bottoms up everybody, I’ll give you a review when I’ve created the lemon balm tisane myself.

Dog Park Fascination

Yes, I know what you are thinking… am I really that kind of person? The short answer is “kinda.” No I don’t necessarily think my dog is the end all and be all -- and she doesn’t eat dinner with us at the table (maybe underneath the table…), but I do love her, and as such I clothe her in winter (sometimes for Halloween too) and I take her to the dog park. She loves it okay? She’s not too social, but she loves the smells, the dog-raderie , the ability to run free and wild amongst her peers, and the Pupperoni her delighted owners feed her whenever she does something cute. She, however, does not, enjoy the ride to the dog park. The shining rolling metal box that takes us to the park is a trial and tribulation that all must live through. We have tried every technique in the world to get her to enjoy the car ride, but nothing works. She squeaks, she pants and she squirms to get under my seat and there she remains for the 5 minute ride.

This is as calms as doggy can get. Once she gets to the park it’s a different story. She is the queen of the park and every blade must be christened. Take a gander at her in the park and you’ll see why most every Sunday “we go to there.”

Tiptoe Through My Summer Garden With Me and My Crocs…

Dorothy had her ruby slippers, the Sex in the City girl her Manolo Blahniks, Nancy Sinatra her boots and I… I have my red crocs.

Can you see how shiny my crocs are? My red crocs and I are inseparable in the garden – they keep my feet so comfy, so deliciously wrapped in foamy-goodness that I can focus on all the garden has to offer. Sometimes I wish my crocs could come out with me to the real concrete world – but I’ve been told by Tim Gunn (no less) that this would be an enormous fashion mistake so we stay together only in the backyard where my crocs and I weed and propagate, prune and survey all in comfortable (sometimes squeaky) silence. In the early morning we walk together through the wet grass making witty observations on the conditions in the garden. Come see with us what we’ve been up to – click on my crocs to see my summer garden.

Tomato Thief – CSI

Recently our resident tomato gardener rushed into the house, face pale, arm raised clasping a tomato in his trembling hand. “Someone has stolen our first tomato and bitten it,” he exclaimed. We all turned simultaneously and looked at the suspect. Shamefaced she refused to look up or even to answer some simple inquiries as to her whereabouts. It should be known that last year she was caught red-pawed with a Mr. Stripey in her mouth. Her guilty look certainly makes it hard to believe in her innocence.

As of today, the house stands divided; one camp insisting that Lydia is to blame, the other blaming miscellaneous tomato-vore squirrels. For now, Lydia is not allowed the freedom of the garden without a warden on constant watch. It seems to be working since no further tomato thefts have been recorded, but I’m worried…. yes I’m worried.