The other day Amie and I admired a pretty yellow flower with a scaly stalk in what we fondly call “The Pitt”:  the front part of our garden that is mainly bramble. A friend of mine identified at as being Coltsfoot (Tussilago farfara), also known as cough wort. This was very exciting. Here I am trying to cultivate finicky medicinals and down there, in The Pitt, grows this amazing cough suppressant, expectorant and asthma treatment, wild, unattended. Uninvited but very welcome.

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Apparently the plant tastes salty and was used as a salt substitute. The bees share my excitement!

Today I got to experiment first-hand with a remedy for Stinging Nettle stings. Some nettle was growing in my  mint patch and though I am aware of it and am careful when harvesting mint, my guests may not. I was tidying up that patch and thought I’d relocate the three nettle plants to the nettle patch (out of the way in the back of the property, behind the fence).

Tip: just wearing gloves and a short sleeved shirt is not ample protection.

I got stung badly on the bare arm and then, through the glove, on a finger. The blisters and the itch formed immediately. I ran out back to our “lawn” (more like a clover patch) and picked some plantain leaves, crushed them in a mortar and applied them as a poultice.

Instant relief!

If memory serves, the blisters and itch can last many hours. The itch was abolished instantly, and the blisters were gone after 5 minutes of applying the leaf.

*

Just over the weekend a friend and I were talking about herbal medicine. He didn’t quite “believe in it”. Turns out that what he doesn’t believe in is that plants can have a beneficial effect. That some are detrimental and poisonous, or that their malevolent effect can indeed be instant – e.g., Stinging Nettle – he had no problem accepting.

When I pointed this out it was a revelation. All our trust in the benefits of plants has been taken away by the pharmaceuticals. All that remains is the other side of the coin. A weird coin it is now, hanging there in people’s minds, in our culture…

Amie and the comfrey

Today Amie helped me harvest the comfrey and feverfew. She helped me string up those big, fat comfrey leaves. “It’s like stringing fish!” she said. I asked her where she got that idea? She couldn’t remember, but she was right. She loved the smell of the feverfew flowers – they look and smell like chamomile, but the plants are not related. I was amazed at her patience, taking them from me, standing around in the hot sun.

As we were harvesting, she suddenly said how she loves it that I am a beekeeper, and that she asked her friends at school and it turned out that no one else’s mom was a beekeeper. (I did a little beekeeper talk for her class recently).  We also talked about how not many people make medicine out of plants, and about the difference between pharmaceuticals and plant medicine (and that each has its place). And about the generosity of the plants, how important it is to take from them only what we need, only what is ready, and leave most of the plant to to thrive.  ”Like when we rob from the bees,” she says.

Yes, dear child. How I love doing this with you.

Amie garbling dried mint

I made a page inventorizing the herbal medicines in my apothecary, and I thought I should  also have a page with all the herbs growing in the garden and being grown from seed.

Sowed (germinating/seedling)

3/8/2013: Chinese Aconite (Aconitum carmichaeli) - 50 s

3/8/2013: Giant Solomon’s Seal (Polygonatum biflorum)  - 20 s

3/15/2013: Self Heal (Prunella vulgaris)

3/15/2013: Echinacea purpurea

3/15/2013: Valerian

3/16/2013: Boneset (Eupatorium perfoliatum),

3/16/2013: St John’s Wort (Hypericum perforatum)

3/16/2013: Hyssop

3/16/2013: Motherwort

~

In the garden, these are the ones I’ve identified:

Feverfew (Tanacetum parthenium or Chrysanthemum parthenium)

Fleabane (Erigeron)

Golden Chamomile (Anthemis tinctoria)

Yarrow (Achillea millefolium)

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Cheese Mallow (Malva rotundifolia), looking to grow Marsh Mallow, which is more potent.

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Echinacea pupurea

Elecampane (Inula helenium)

Licorice (Glycyrrhiza glabra)

Dandelion (Taraxacum officinale)

Comfrey (Symphytum officinale)

Mullein (Verbascum spp.)

Calendula (Celendula officinalis)

Nettle (Urtica spp.)

Peppermint (Mentha piperita)

Plantain (Plantago lanceaolata)

Last week I splurged on Wildcraft, a cooperative board game for kids (and adults) developed by HerbMentor, one of my favorite places for herbal instruction. The idea of the game is to make it up the mountain to the huckleberry patch, gather huckleberries, and make it back down again to grandma’s house before nightfall. And not to perish.

In the official game there’s not much chance of perishing. When you land on a cross you get a trouble card – a hornet sting, sore muscles, hunger, or stomach ache. But you start out with four remedy cards and gather lots along the way. It’s usually an easy walk. Usually.

Amie loved the game from the very first. She has played it several times, with us or by herself. She’ll skip around the house telling her doll they should find some Plantain for that bee sting, Echinacea for the sniffles. It’s sweet.

Then yesterday she came up with a variation. She set up the board and invited me to play, but wisely kept the rules to herself until I had committed (you spin that wheel, you’re committed). The variation was this: only trouble cards, no remedy cards.

Painful, to say the least! Our conversation ran thus:

- You’re killing me!

- Don’t blame it on me.

- Well, you’re the one who invented this game.

- Blaming isn’t nice. Oops, now you’ve got diarrhea. Too bad!

She weighed  ailments (diarrhea would be the worst one) and inflicted pain (gleefully handing out the cards) all in the playful and safe setting of a game. She also explored endurance and the extent to which the human body can handle pain and discomfort. At the end of the game, when we finally made it back to grandma’s house, Amie gathered she must be near death. Like so:

Notice the tongue sticking out, a sure sign of near death.

The cards near her head, by the way, were her trouble cards. The long line near her feet, those were mine! She invited me to come lie next to her and be really dead.

I declined, stating someone had to take the picture.

While participating in the Training for Transition I came to a profound realization. One of the most powerful exercises in Transition is the positive visioning. People sit in two circles, one inside the other, facing each other so everyone is paired up. The people on the outside are the elders of the future, who have  lived through Transition (the time of change). The people on the inside are young people, who did not live through it, and they ask three questions of their Elder, and listen. At the end, the pairs exchange seats and the circles rotate.

One of the questions is: what is your role in this (Transitioned) world?

Many people see themselves working with food. That’s only to be expected: besides air, water and shelter, what is more important than healthy, nutritious food? So people talk about how they tend the fields, teach others how to grow, scout out places to grow more crops, etc. People talk lovingly about being post-carbon farmers (farmers without oil), about farming together, and the more leisurely pace of life, with many conversations with neighbors, and kids roaming free, and nothing but the blue sky above and the dirt in their hands.

Wonderful visions.

This exercise invites only positive visioning, and some have trouble with this. That’s why we do the exercise. We need to practice hoping. Especially for those who seek Transition, those who have studied up and faced the truth, it’s hard. And thus, powerful.

So here it was my turn as the Elder to answer that question.

“I grow medicine. In the post-carbon world there are no pharmaceuticals, or if there are, there is no easy, quick and affordable way to get the medicine to where it is needed. There are no stockpiles of antibiotics or analgesics. Medicine is homemade.  I am someone who grows this medicine. I found the best spots in the town for growing marshmallow, or motherwort, or even ginger. I grow it, and teach and supervise the growing of it by others. I keep the inventory of the living plants. I harvest them at their appropriate times and with appropriate thanks for their abundance. I then bring them home and dry them and make them into medicine. I keep the apothecary. I don’t diagnose, I don’t heal. I don’t feel ready for that yet. I hope someone else can do that. If not, I’ll help, but humbly.”

I was silent for a second, surprised by my vision. Usually I am a farmer of unspecified crops. Usually I feed people. And beyond my surprise there was more to be said. So I said it:

“It’s hard in this world because we Elders remember the old medicine and health care. It wasn’t all good – the side effects, the addiction, the arrogance and entitlement. But diseases were cured, or held at bay, and lives were lengthened. Now we don’t have it so easy anymore. An infection that would have been treated with a shot can now kill.  We need to be vigilant all the time, grow whole, resilient bodies. Life is no longer prolonged – or rather, death is no longer postponed. We die at our appointed times. It is sad, sometimes, to think that an old drug could have postponed it. But, on the other hand, people now die at home, surrounded by their loved ones and communities. That’s better. That’s better.”

So there we are, that is what I want to do in the future, when I grow up, when the world grows up.

This is the marc of the echinacea root I tinctured and pressed yesterday.

It is what is left of the plant when it has given all it has to give.

Thank you.

~

I’ve added  two Apothecary pages: the Inventory of Medicines and an Inventory of Live Medicinal Plants in the garden.

Infusing Oatstraw

I made my first oatstraw infusion, a quart of it, with 1 oz. of dried herb. It’s very mild, sweet and fresh, just lovely after steeping a good 14 hours. Not grassy at all. I added some raw honey to it and have been sipping it all day long.

Oatstraw is one of those toners, herbs that nourishes gently and deeply and that, though slow to take effect, acts for a long time in the body. You drink the infusions every day for a couple of weeks.

One cup of this infusion contains a whopping 300 mg of calcium (as much as a cup of milk). It also contains B-complex vitamins, silicia, flavones, saponins and Vitamin A. It can be used for both physical and nervous fatigue and is helpful for depression. The perfect herb to ferry me out the Winter floes into the tempests of Spring! And going by the taste alone, the kind of herb that will get me through the day, sip by sip.

Sip. Sip.

It’s snowing again, a driving powdery snow that has already accumulated to 2-3 inches. Inside the fire roars, Shubert delights, as does the smell of ginger.

I was surprised by how cheap this fresh ginger root was ($1.99 a pound), but then when I started peeling and cutting it, it all made sense.  This ginger was harvested too late (thick skin, very fibrous) and not fresh (not firm, yellow and juicy enough). That’ll show me to shop at any old grocery store along the way. Also, I am now more determined to try growing my own ginger.

So I dropped my plans to make ginger tincture, for which I want to use only the best root. I just made a big batch of candied ginger, some strong ginger tea (a by-product of the latter), more ginger bug, and a ginger body scrub (from the peels).

Candied ginger

Peel the ginger if necessary, otherwise wash the roots thoroughly. Slice them to your preference, but not sliver thin. Put in a pot, cover with water, bring to a boil and simmer for 30 -40 minutes. It is ready when the ginger is no longer raw and a little translucent – this is again to your preference.

Drain the ginger, capturing the ginger tea – which will need some diluting if it is to be had as tea.

Weigh the ginger and put it, along with an equal amount in weight of sugar, into the pot. Add 1/4 cup of the ginger tea, and bring to a boil on high heat. Simmer on medium high, stirring frequently, more frequently as the sugar syrup gets thicker, so as not to scorch it.

After about 20 minutes the sugar will become dry and crystallize. This effect is unmistakable and comes on very quickly, so stir, stir and be ready to lift that pan off the heat and scoop the mass of crystallized sugar and ginger onto waxed paper. There break it up – it cools very quickly – and let dry.

Amie finds the ginger too spicy but enjoys the sugar (which is still quite potent). I am planning to carry this around with me when I go for drives, to combat my motion sickness. I don’t know how well it will work, since it’s been boiled for so long, but it will have to do until my first batch of ginger tincture is ready.

Ginger Body Scrub

I was left with a lot of ginger peels. I rinsed these in cold water, then boiled them for 25 minutes to make a ginger peel tea. I wouldn’t drink it, as I hadn’t scrubbed the peel before removing it from the root. But I will use it as an invigorating and warming body scrub for sore muscles after coming in from hours of shoveling snow.

You can use this as a facial rinse, against acne, for instance, but beware when you have sensitive skin: it can warm the skin too much and cause burning – again depending on how strong the rinse is.

Ginger is a powerful antimicrobial, which is why it is used medicinally for colds and flues, along with garlic, and as a cleanser in cases of acne or cuts. As the main ingredient in ginger soda it not only imparts its flavor, but also its food-preserving qualities. Normally, when fermenting foods, salt is used to keep the bad bacteria at bay, so the good yeasts can do their work, while the food doesn’t spoil. In soda, thank goodness, no salt is used. It is the ginger that acts as the antimicrobial.

Today I started an Echinacea tincture. Don’t know why I waited this long (and will have to wait for 6 more weeks) . This winter I’ve already spent a good $40 on store-bought tincture – gah! You can make it for about $2 a bottle at home, and control the ingredients too.

It’s a 1:5 Echinacea purpurea dried root tincture made with 80 proof vodka (that’s 40 grams of dried, powdered herb in 200 ml of vodka).

I’ve ordered more herbs, more glass dropper bottles and a stainless steel funnel from Mountain Rose Herbs. I need to find a cheap and local source of large quantities of 100 proof vodka ($20 for 750 ml at the liquor store) and 190 proof alcohol. Because this time I used dried herb I could get away with the cheaper 80 proof, but I’ll want to tincture fresh ginger root soon.

I’m using James Green’s Herbal Medicine-Maker’s Handbook. It’s very user-friendly for the beginner and encouraging. I ordered Nancy Phillips’ book The Herbalist Way as well as Michael PhillipsThe Apple Grower. I got to peruse both books at my leisure at the NOFA conference and was very impressed.

So I’m back to the gotta-shake-my-tincture (in addition to gotta-feed-my-bug) days. Tomorrow I hope to start up the bread-baking again. Then we’ll be more or less back into our routine.