5 reasons to grow mint
- Mint is so simple to grow, all you need is a cheap tub and some dirt. I used the old inside of a washing machine, and it’s perfect! It also looks great in the garden.
- Mint makes for an amazing tea with or without honey or sugar.
- Mint has many healing benefits and can help with digestion, constricted muscles, minor aches and pains, and is great as an antiseptic and antibacterial.
- It is great for cooking or making sauce for lamb roasts. Or even just dipped in chocolate.
- Finally, it is useful for making lotions and beauty products. Mint can also be used to treat acne.
We are moved into a new apartment together <3. It has windows and a back porch/landing. Now’s my chance to try growing things now that I have access to sunlight!
I know nothing about growing things except they need water.
For all of the difficulty that Guillermo del Toro has experienced in getting his projects off the ground, his imagination is famously restless and unquenchable. A gifted artist who’s as capable of bringing his visions to life with a pencil as he is with a camera, del Toro is known to first begin creating his film worlds in the pages of his sketchbooks (del Toro once left his “Pan’s Labyrinth” notes in the back seat of a cab, and the loss might have killed the movie if not for the kind efforts of the cab driver to return the book). While most of the notes and illustrations that fill del Toro’s sketchbooks may never be available to the public, many pages have made their way to the web, and many more can be found in various books and on the Criterion Collection DVDs of “Cronos” and “The Devil’s Backbone.” Here, we’ve collected the images that we could find, a modest collection that nevertheless provides a thrilling glimpse into the mind of an extraordinary storyteller.
If I were a cinnamon peeler
I would ride your bed
and leave the yellow bark dust
on your pillow.
Your breasts and shoulders would reek
you could never walk through markets
without the profession of my fingers
floating over you. The blind would
stumble certain of whom they approached
though you might bathe
under rain gutters, monsoon.
Here on the upper thigh
at this smooth pasture
neighbor to your hair
or the crease
that cuts your back. This ankle.
You will be known among strangers
as the cinnamon peeler’s wife.
I could hardly glance at you
never touch you
— your keen nosed mother, your rough brothers.
I buried my hands
in saffron, disguised them
over smoking tar,
helped the honey gatherers…
When we swam once
I touched you in water
and our bodies remained free,
you could hold me and be blind of smell.
You climbed the bank and said
this is how you touch other women
the grasscutter’s wife, the lime burner’s daughter.
And you searched your arms
for the missing perfume.
what good is it
to be the lime burner’s daughter
left with no trace
as if not spoken to in an act of love
as if wounded without the pleasure of scar.
your belly to my hands
in the dry air and said
I am the cinnamon
peeler’s wife. Smell me.
- Michael Ondaatje, "The Cinnamon Peeler" (via focloir)