Attack of the Catnip

A lot of horror stories probably start out with the words, "My mother told me not to but..." This horror story is no exception. Against her advice (Incidentally, my mother is a certified Master Gardener to qualify her) I planted some mint plants last year in my garden. A happy little catnip and some orange mint. For fragrance right? (facepalm) They started out inconspicuously enough. The catnip actually took a while to establish itself, by the end of summer last year it had spread a few inches and took over my upper planter's left side, nothing too obnoxious. The orange mint (which had to compete with the strawberries in the lower bed) seemed to spread much more easily. Its vines lined the edge of the planter, even finding a way to flank the upper bed right next to the catnip. Luckily, winter came and wiped them out. Right?

Fast forward 1 year, they're both out of control. The catnip in particular has become a massive bushy plant, nearly 3 feet tall and almost as wide. To keep it from spreading to space that I've reserved for vegetables, I'm now forced to cut it back everyday. The prospect of doing this daily, initially excited me. (I'm what you might call a naive optimist) My thoughts went something like this, "Well, we have a cat so he'll really love all the catnip I can bring in." Unfortunately however, he hates fresh catnip and will hardly touch it. This has forced me to come up with alternate plans, namely throwing all of the catnip in a waterproof bin to dry and somehow use it later. My roommate assures me that he loves dried catnip, I'm counting on this as my proverbial, "light at the end of the tunnel. Otherwise, I'm doing this all for nothing because catnip is a pain and it's really not that pretty or fragrant.

On to the orange mint which I was sure had died. (The area where I planted it looked like a wasteland, completely bare) While yes, the original group of leaves associated with the orange mint I brought home from the nursery had died, it's vines remained, albeit mostly hidden beneath my strawberry plants. This Spring, wherever those vines lingered from last year's spread, mint popped up, and boy does it ever pop up. On the edges of the lower bed, right amongst the strawberries, in the waste bin next to the garden, everywhere! Unlike the catnip however, it does smell nice and my mother assures me that I can use it in teas and possibly with food preparation. We'll see.

The moral of this story, listen to your mother.