Part of gardening is learning to let go. It’s so easy to get attached to the first tender cotyledons that pop up from your seed trays in mid-March, those dazzling little green gems that make your eyes salivate* for spring. You make silent promises to each and every one that you will do everything in your power to help it grow up and contribute to the best harvest possible. But before you know it the temperatures are dangerously high, primary leaves are dotted with blight, and the insects are hungry. Losses will be incurred. There are plenty of tips and tricks for preventing blights and insect damage in your garden, but here I focus on a few drinks to steady your hand after scraping a colony of aphids from a leaf or pulling a lost cause out of the ground entirely.

Keep your enemies closer

Flea beetles leave tiny buckshot-style holes when they feed on the leaves of your eggplants, tomatoes, and other nightshade family members. Although they enjoy the leaves of chili pepper plants, they are repelled by the spicy fruit. So while you brew up a batch of chili pepper “tea” to ensure the future of your garden-to-glass bloody mary, consider having a taste of your own medicine.

I once made chili pepper-infused vodka for a party, and found that it tastes wonderful in pineapple juice with a splash of fresh lime. This combination pops up in a lot of cocktail menu drinks and the name is different each time, so feel free to call it anything you want. Take a shot of the straight infusion and imagine you are very small, just wanting some salad– and then go out and rain down fire water. I’d call the shot “A Beetle Deterred.”

Do not go gentle into that [awful] blight

I started thinking about fixing a drink as soon as I found myself scrolling through Vegetable MD Online past picture after picture of spotted, dying tomato leaves. My healthiest and most eagerly anticipated tomatoes, the Hillbilly Potato Leaf plants, seemed to have blight creeping up their stalks. A precise diagnosis didn’t seem to matter in the end since the majority of prognoses were dismal, but I’m pretty sure it was Septoria. Ew. Either apply fungicide, or trim off as many infected leaves as possible and hope for a stretch of hot, dry weather.

At this point I would recommend a very stiff drink. Something antiseptic, like that young corn whiskey being sold in jars and called moonshine. Sip liberally while amputating the diseased leaves and exhale close (but not too close) to the plant, and hope that any spores shaken up in the process will be destroyed by your volatile breath.

Over-watering: the plant hangover

Sometimes brown spots on leaves can’t be blamed on fungi, bacteria, or insects– it’s your fault. In my case, I was a bad influence on the cherry tomatoes I have planted in a wooden box filled with a peat-heavy soil and thoroughly mulched. They chugged the unnecessary amounts of water I gave them and suffered the consequences. Round brown blotches started to appear on leaf tips and I was worried the Septoria had spread, so I ended up trimming off leaves for no reason. I basically hazed my plants like a frat boy and then drew a big dick on their passed out foreheads. Dude. Not cool.

In this case, it’s time to let go of the hose and over-water yourself with a palatable and potent thirst-quenching drink. You could get fancy with this, but I recommend a simple vodka and soda with a squeeze of lemon. Drink enough so that you ultimately pass out on a blanket in the sun. When you wake up, you might have some sun spots of your own– no to mention a bit more botanical empathy than before.

1. When traveling by bus, you should strive to achieve a buzz that allows you to easily amuse yourself with the passing license plates. For example, pack a cleverly-disguised amount of The Good Doctor and enjoy while trying to make personal ad abbreviations out of license plate numbers. “LNT 30F” is a total gimmie, obviously standing for “Loves Nipple Twists, 30 F.” Something like “860 YFJ” will probably require a few extra sips before you arrive at “860 lbs, Yearning For Jam.” If that’s too depressing, go with “owns 860 pairs of Yellow Fluorescent Jeans.”

2. If you find yourself stuck in a particularly bad airport– say, LAX– for over 10 hours, recite the Serenity Prayer while making a beeline for the nearest bar. Strike up a conversation with the person next to you and let it slip that your flight leaves around 11pm– nine short hours from now. Your new friend will be so moved by your plight that, upon abandoning you to catch their flight, they might offer to buy you another drink. Now for a tip within a tip: don’t let more than two additional people buy you drinks. You might get so drunk on terrible red wine that you try to bribe the bartender to bum you a cigarette and let you outside the airport through a “secret door” (there has to be a secret door) to smoke it. If this does end up happening to you, try to think of a better bribe than sliding a couple triangles of duty free Toblerone across the bar on a napkin note. Trust me.

3. Q: What do the TSA and most cocktail recipes have in common? A: Ounces! Just as most volumes in a typical cocktail recipe are listed in ounces, the TSA restricts your amount of carry-on liquids to a single quart-sized plastic bag stuffed with 3.4oz containers of liquid. They even tell you that this can Make Your Trip Better— so why not take them up on that possibility? Pack as many cocktail ingredients as you’d like into a clear plastic zip-top bag, and whip up some drinks in Economy that those in First Class know they can’t have. A Negroni, perhaps, to accompany your tiny bag of pretzels. A Manhattan to get you through “Tron: Legacy.” Stirred drinks are more subtle, but if you’re feeling on top of the world you should pack a small shaker as well. I was given a small plastic one as a lagniappe alongside a bottle of Cointreau, and it is quieter to shake and more innocent-looking than a metal one. If your row mate looks uncomfortable, offer to make him/her a drink! Tell them you squeezed the citrus fresh this morning, and that you use agave syrup in your whiskey sours.