I'm not sure exactly when I became obsessed with Corsican mint, but I seem to remember first seeing it in a gardening book, where someone had planted an immense swath of it, interrupted only by a few stepping stones. I'm not sure why anyone would plant grass when you could just as easily have a field of pale green Corsican mint, particularly if you live in the right temperature zone; sadly, we're a bit too hot/cold here to maintain more than a few small patches, nestled in the rocks.

Along with Russian sage, Corsican mint is the most fragrant plant in the garden. It smells like natural toothpaste, only better!

I feel like most judges and politicians probably don't 'get' Corsican mint, which is why I'd always rather be gay/vext, even if it means that I'm a 'second-class citizen' for the indefinite future.

I feel like the world both rewards/punishes a certain kind of obsessive personality that is often (but certainly not always) tied to being gay/vext/non-heterosexual. The highs are higher and the lows are lower, but in the end, would you rather spend your days caressing the tiny leaves of a tiny plant -- looking for that tiny, ephemeral (but intense) pleasure -- or writing/endorsing judicial opinions you know will quickly sink into the morass of bureaucracy that runs so much of the modern world?

Political and judicial power will always be fleeting, while Corsican mint is 4ever.