Well, anyway, I came, I saw, I gardened!
Did I say I liked lemon balm before? Ignore that. Obviously I was dangerously insane at the time. What I meant to say was that I hate lemon balm with the burning passion of a thousand dying suns, I wish it exterminated, excoriated, exsanguinated, and perhaps excommunicated. Yes. That is obviously what I meant.
I stink of bruised lemon. But, as some Chinese poet or other once said,
When I return from trampling flowers
the hooves of my warhorse are fragrant.
Just substitute “crazy woman with a trowel” for “warhorse” and it was sort of like that. And–ha!–I still have space in the bed! There is open space! Space that MORE PLANTS can go in! MUAHAHAHAH! This is a glorious and fearful thing.
Did not get much art done, other than finishing a Digger. Must go take a shower and then make art. That would be a good end to the day.