By nightfall, I’d formulated a plan. If

By nightfall, I’d formulated a plan. If I followed a trail through the woods, I could get back home in fifteen minutes. I walked slowly and deliberately trying to make as little

noise as possible. Shhh! I crept past the old church with the creaking door, past the haunted Museum of Fun (no laughing matter) and on to the dilapidated cottage on Windy Hill.

And then I looked in the mirror and saw a green ghost sitting next to me. Then my kid brother puked on my lap. He refused to go on splash mountain so I pushed him into a bear at

the local zoo. Surprisingly the bear did no more than high five him & then started to perform some weird, heavy-footed, bear dance. Then I saw another ghost only this time it was

at the local Starbucks. I was ordering the usual Frapuchino with extra shots of Mocca and Amaretto from the surely new Barrista when I saw her double pass behind her and put in a

2 shots of mint. Mint? Hmmm why hadn't I thought to that? Oh she was goooood. I think I'm going to swoon. I must ask her out or at the very least attempt to get her to

give me the recipe. Hopefully it wasn't mixed in a cauldron while chanting weird incantations at midnight. I didn't mind creating cooking but using magic just wasn't fair. Mint was

perfect for Man Mojitos, and occasionally in Afghani dishes, but as I was deep in Louisiana swamp, the flavors just didn't work. I pulled some spice off her shelf. Odd that it was

mustard seed - that was the spice that killed my first marriage. She was almost as bitter as the irony, but I didn't mind. She was a bitch, and I got the house. "Who wants to eat