Making Peppermint Tea

well...making tea-bags.
The Coreopsis had taken over the peppermint beds, And I didn't have the heart to pull them out, so I let them do their thing. Several years ago, we planted a row of Coreopsis in the garden, and it got six feet tall, and we even tied it up with an elaborate rope system to keep them all from falling over. It was beautiful. It will also never be necessary again. Because, since that experiment, coreopsis sproings up all over the garden every year. And in the yard, and anywhere else it can.
This year, a bunch of them popped up in the mint beds. They're just so beautiful. It's impossible to mow them down or pull them up before they've bloomed and set seed. Well, they did all that, and it was time to rip them out and cut back the mint, which had grown long, long trailing vines in it's efforts to reach past the coreopsis plants. I mean, how much mint could that possible be? Turns out, way, way too much to handle at one time. I sat in the carport all day long; with the hose running and a scissors and the big mesh garden cart - cutting and washing and trimming and bagging and on and on and on. But I got it done. Then begins the drying process, whereupon I mentally thank for the billionth time my friend Maria who gave me the professional herb dryer on 'permanent loan'. With it's flat leaves, mint dries faster than many other herbs (like rosemary, for instance). But it still takes more than a day. You have to catch it between 'limp but mostly dry' - and 'so dry there's no aromatic essence left'. Then, one rack at a time (and I process about ten at a time), you must remove all of the stems, even the teeny tiny ones. That's kind of a pain, but there' no way around it. This is why dried thyme should cost a million dollars an ounce. What you wind up with is a big bowl of crushed, dried, fabulous peppermint, and boy do your hands smell great, and plus your entire respiratory system is thankful. You've been inhaling mint for hours. Now comes the confessional part.
Long ago, when I first ordered teabags, I would stuff them with whatever herb I was making tea from, then sit and stare and the unsealed side of the teabag. I even sat with a friend or two and asked for advice. How do you think you're supposed to close up this side? So I would fold the edges and staple it shut. I even had those little white tags on a string. It was ok, but never looked that good (certainly not professional), and you could never really get it completely closed no matter how hard you tried. This means little scraps of tea would leak out when you put it in a cup of hot water. It was much later that, in desperation, I went looking for an answer on the internet. well. lo and behold, you're supposed to iron them shut! who knew? not me. Let me tell you. This is a great trick. Actually, it's not a trick. It's the way it's supposed to be done. So there you have it.


A little bit of 'packaging ingenuity', and you have teabags to sell in the market tent. Also, a jar of teabags for your own self. yes. It Is A Lot Of Trouble, all told. But, everybody spends their time doing Something. And I can think of a lot of other things I would rather not be doing. It's worth every step.