A Clean Slate

A Clean Slate

In the spring the mint comes up in a patch in the corner of the little piece of ground Liz and her mother made when we first moved in. A small raised plot bordered by giant granite boulders on the south and retained by a two-foot high wall made of stones on the east. The two Liz’s carried each stone from the hill side and piled them up into a rubble wall. Behind the wall they poured loose dirt which they also dug from the hill. I calculate they hauled, by bucket, approximately 15 yards of soil in all. They seeded it with grass, some of which actually grew, and populated the tiny, level area with a picnic table and two benches, which Mutti bought for us. Over the years the domestic grass has given way to thick weeds and native grass which, when mown, has become a dense, serviceable “lawn” of sorts.

The mint, as I said, grows wild on a small portion of the “lawn” spreading down the slope and into the border of the garden fence. It becomes entwined in the fence during the growing season and spreads into the garden itself, usually up to the marigolds which Liz plants for color and to discourage insects. All summer long I tread on it as I tend the vegetables. It is not discouraged by my carelessness. It is a weed that thrives on the garden soil. It doesn’t care if I walk all over it and it even rewards my trespasses with fragrant mint smell as I bruise the hardy plants. Once the fall comes I spend a lot of time selectively pulling up the spent vines of the cucumbers and squash, picking beans to dry for seeds for next year and pulling up other dead and dying plants-including the mint.

The okra stalks come up hard. As I pull them huge clods of earth cling to the root ball. I smack the ball against the fence so the soil will fall into the beds. Earth worms rain out of the loosened soil and borough into the ground as quickly as possible. I throw the stems and roots into a pile outside the fence and I will collect it for composting later. Sometimes I run the mower over the pile and chop it up before I compost it. Long, stringy vines, the stalks of the broccoli, the smooshy, left-over cucumbers, the weeds and the flowers-including the mint-all goes into the pile. The tricky mint. Little seeds fall like sand everywhere I pull it out and everywhere I throw the dying plants. It plants itself everywhere and comes back year after year. No matter if the tomatoes blight or the egg plant withers from insects the mint grows. This year it threatened to take over the entire little hill where I planted potatoes and was so thick on the fence that the sun could barely penetrate. I pulled it and pulled it but it just kept on coming.

I used to pick some of the leaves and dry them on the dining room table. All winter long I drank strong mint tea. I gave some to friends and to the post woman and I would have done it again and again but now one ever asked for more. I assume it was because mint is so common that everyone has some of their own and they don’t need mine. So now I just make a little for myself and mix it with “Lemon Zinger”.

That tea and its pungent smell… that is what the mint gives in return for its intrusion into the lawn and the garden, and that is enough. Today I will spend an hour and reign in the wild growth. I will pull the mint and as much of the garden plants as I can. There is still some broccoli and hot peppers on the plants. The fall has been warm and just wet enough to keep them growing. Soon the hard frost will come and everything will droop and brown and I will turn the soil after I pull the remaining plant life. I will add last years compost and perhaps some manure and start again with a clean slate.