For the next few days my entries will need to be made during the day. For some reason, the light in the computer room is not working, and neither is the fan it is attached to. Thus the room gets light and dark according to the passage of day. Add to the mix my none-too-strong eyes, and problems result. At this point in time, the easiest resolution is not to use the computer room when it is dark outside.

Until the lights are fixed, so much for the luxury of late-night journal writing; the thoughts must be bared in the light of day.

It is storming outside again, patchy, intermittent storms. Mother Nature can't seem to make up her mind whether she wants to rain or not, but she is being indecisive enough that I will not be able to work in the flowerbeds today like I'd wanted to.

Yesterday's purchases from a local nursery: two tiny pots each of French tarragon, standard chives, and Kentucky Colonel spearmint.

Speaking of—the Kentucky Colonel spearmint is incredibly scented, almost mind-boggling in its intensity. Some herbs require that you break or rub the leaves and stems to release the oils whose scent you will recognize. Not so this spearmint—it announces itself without any touching required—and if you do touch it, the smell is intense.

The only plant I have that compares in strength of scent would be my rosemary bushes. The plant that died in December, while I was ill, had such a strong scent that even brushing your hand along it guaranteed that you would smell like rosemary for the rest of the day.

What shall I do with the spearmint? I haven't decided, but I know that I want it growing here, for when I do realize what I want to do with it, I will be disappointed if I do not have a stock here for my use.

This particular species of spearmint is supposed to be fabulous for mint juleps. I might just have to make one or two of those this year.

Now if I could just get outside and pick out where I want everything to go, that would be perfect. But the lightning and thunder will keep me inside for now.