After three years of planning and prepping I finally have my outdoor herb garden. No, you fucking potheads, not that kind of herb. I’m talking about a different kind of green stuff. My herb garden is filled with things that I can actually use. I’ve got mint for mojitos, and lavender for those cute little sachets that good hostesses place on their guest pillows. But the best stuff I grow I save for alchemy. That’s right, witchcraft isn’t just for old hags with mole-covered noses anymore.
Now, I’m not going to get into all of the boring specifics of describing just exactly what alchemy is, because I assume all of my readers are familiar with the game Skyrim. From what I’ve heard, it’s a real-time video game that involves wandering through fields picking flowers to use for making potions. Really, that sounds lamer than any video game I’ve ever played – and I used to own McKids for the NES. Also, if I may go on a tangent, which I may, Skyrim the video game doesn’t at all resemble what I logically thought it was, which was a clever portmanteau about getting a rim-job on an airplane.
So yes, chamomile makes a tasty, slightly numbing tea – but did you know that it also can be ground up and blown into the faces of your enemies, causing them to fall off that cliff you suggested they take a hike on? And have you heard about the aphrodisiacal qualities of ginseng? If you harvest the roots in the Fall, they can be used either raw or boiled (suggested for sanitary purposes) as a prostatic stimulant. Believe me, he’ll be begging you for more. Or, say your partner broke up with you to “find themselves” or some such nonsense – mail them an envelope full of dried sage. When they inhale the powder they’ll be struck with the sage wisdom that you were the best thing that ever happened to them; that they’ve chosen a path of self-destruction and are currently at the high point of the downward spiral that will be the rest of their sad and lonely life. That’s sure to make your day, and it will make your roasted rosemary potatoes all the more satisfying.
But my all-time favorite use for an herb is as a truth serum. What you have to do is simple: when you suspect that someone is lying – be it a friend, partner, boss, or bratty child – sneak up on them and shout “Blammo!” Then, when they turn around, you rub crushed lemon grass right in their eyeballs. The sting of it is sure to make them confess the truth, apologize, and offer to smear their face across a nice piece of tilapia to serve you for dinner.
Patti Lynn Henry was delivered in a blizzard in February of 1984 by a drunk doctor who nearly fainted at the sight of a baby with a disintegrated umbilical cord. She’s faced countless tragedies, both real and imaginary, ever since. She’s a hostage of her home town of Northfield, MN. When Patti isn’t busy writing, she’s dressing her cats up in costumes and burying the photographs in her garden.