my eye won't stop watering

In Door County I thought that I just had allergies because of all the nature. But now I am back in smogtown and I can't stop sneezing. Very annoying.

Door County was very nice. I went up for four days with Ben to stay at the farmhouse my family rents every summer. We had the entire Simon Clan there; on the biggest day there were 30 people. Which is a lot of people. There are only three non-teenage kids now, so it especially felt like a big group of real live persons. The weather was great, we played Bocce Ball and Bolo Toss, ate Weinberg family breakfast at Al Johnson's, Ben wowed my family again with a meal (four amazing chickens on the grill), singing, campfires, stargazing, Uncle Tom's, card games, birthday presents, sunsets, playing with kids, silliness.

On the way up we stopped for lunch at a Boy Scout brat fry fundraiser in the parking lot of a grocery store. The grocery store had a regular sized sign that said Piggly Wiggly and GIANT sign that said LIQUOR STATION. So we had to stop at the liquor station. We thought it would be a great idea to drink mojitos on the deck on a nice summer's evening. But we know my family, and figured that if we were consuming something interesting and tasty everyone might want to try it, so we bought a Giant Bottle Of Rum, and grabbed the very last package of mint they had and a bunch of limes. When we got to the house though, and were all ready for our summer sunset cocktail, we opened the mint and it reeked. It was completely bad. We threw it away. But no one else was there yet, so we turned right around to go to the grocery store in town.

Thus began our epic, futile search for mint. They were out of mint at the grocery store. No herbs at all at the other grocery store. No mint at the (closed) greenhouse shop (we peeked). No mint in people's yards that we eyed. We went home, our hopes for mojitos crushed. Luckily we called my brother, who was driving up the next morning, and told him to bring some of the enormous wealth of mint that my mother has growing in her yard. Hooray! He arrived the next afternoon when Ben and I were at the grocery store again, getting chickens. Jesse called me on my cell phone. Forgot to bring the mint, so we should buy some. Still no mint at the grocery store. A few days later, we're in town again. Stop at the grocery store again. No new mint. No mint at the other grocery store. No mint at the greenhouse. No mint at the cherry stand. No mint in people's yards. We stop at a bar. I ask the bartender, with a wink and a smile, do you have any mint here? No mint. Do you know where I can get some? He turns to the regulars sitting next to me on the stools. "Hey guys, any of you know where she can get some mint?" "Mint?" "Yeah, mint, you know like the leaves." "Oh, fer moheedohs!" "Ey, moheedohs!" The guy pulls out his cell phone. "Hey, Chuck! How you doin! Hey, did Jenny put any mint in that garden a'hers this year?... Mint. Yeah.... Oh! Ah." He looks at me, wide eyed, "Catnip??" "No, mint." "Mint..... Okay then. Yeah, fer this lady at J.J.'s. She wants to make moheedohs.... It's a cocktail. Okay you take care." He makes another call like this. No mint. But the other guy at the bar talks with me extensively about how good moheedohs are. We buy tonic. We drink rum and tonics. They are not as good as mohitos, but they're not too bad.

We still have a ton of rum left. I'm sure my family thinks we're crazy lushes now. Why did you bring this giant bottle of rum? Why are you obsessed with mint? Why can't you just have a beer like the rest of us?