Floral Medicine


Every day now there's something to be harvested. This morning I'll survey our little acre to see what will have my attention for harvest when I return from my creative time at the studio.

Already I know there will be more comfrey leaves to harvest for drying, and red clover blossoms. Yarrow buds, blossoms 'n' leaves will call to me, and most certainly more bee balm. The calendula is just starting to bloom, so more blossoms will be added to the infused oil jar. And Mr. Spouse Boy will likely harvest more Saint Joan's wort, though we're close to our fill for the year.

Plus I'll be looking for and harvesting other buds, blooms and blossoms, as floral Medicine has been calling to me this year. I have a collection of June blossoms, and am now working on collecting July floral Medicine. I'm not sure (though I have a guess or two) how this Medicine will evolve 'n' make manifest, but I'm confident that the call is worthy, and that the voices of the botanicals will sing their song to me ~ when the chorus is ready.

Of all the lessons that the plants have taught me, one key is that we can't rule or force them in any way. Not for their growth, bounty, beauty, their utility, Medicine, stories... their gifts, whispers, songs... their mystery...

I follow their lead, as they are more wise than I - or any two-legged - shall ever be.


Peace. ðŸ•Š

Every Day There is Something

Every day there is something in life to harvest. 
Every day there is something in life to plant. 
Every day there is something in life to receive. 
Every day there is something in life to give.

~ A lesson from the plant realm.



Peace. ðŸ•Š

The Drying Room

I adore the scent of this room when my botanical friends are making their journey to be with me throughout the year.

This is just one section of the first line hanging to dry.

The drying room is north facing, so it never gets direct sunlight, even when the shade is up, which is rare through the spring-to-summer-to-autumn months. 

Now I wait for the morning to dry up so that I may harvest and prepare more for the drying room. Soon it will be akin to a jungle, or so I conjure. :)

In the meantime, I count my blessings.

Peace. ðŸ•Š

Our Keepers


Wild flowers are powerful and vital Medicine. 

For us, sure, but more so for our keepers, the pollinators, and Nona Gaia herself. 

It's a damning shame that most of us mow them down before they're ever able to offer their full expression. 

Of what are we afraid?
Who's lead are we following?
Is scarcity our altar?

Askin' for a friend.



Peace. ðŸ•Š

Solidago in Winter

It's a cold, cold day in January. I have seed packets to organize into a calendar of action, and some to get started, but I thought I'd catch up on vinegar (and other) infusions that got pushed to the back of the priorities shelf. What you see here is the plant matter marc of our local Solidago sp. (goldenrod) left from an infusion made on a sunny August day. Beautiful, isn't it?
Before you ask how to make such a thing, let me say that my spouse made this batch by filling a quart canning jar with flowering tops, filling to cover with organic, living apple cider vinegar, screwing on a lid and labeling the jar. Then it was placed on shelf, out of direct sunlight, where it's been given a gentle, loving shake every so often. At the risk of sounding incorrect, I'm inspired to say that it's so easy a spouse can do it. Because it is. Another reason this - herbalism - is The People's Medicine: It belongs to all of us. All. In any event...
Normally I'd strain this infusion after 6-8 weeks, but this had been macerating some 5 months, and it's a lovely yellow, with gorgeous, golden pollen that settles to the bottom of the jar, and while I've made this before, I don't remember it being quite so bitter as this batch. Whoa. The sip I took woke up parts of me that have been resting since... well... summer!

One of the things I love about this infused vinegar is enJOYing it in deep winter as the daylight is lengthening in the coeur of cold winter; that time of year that, in southern New England, we know spring is on the way, yet winter's roots are still sunk deep. To me, this mirrors the Medicine that was harvested in summer, as daylight was waning in the heart of hot summer. Know what I mean? No wonder it warms and wakes my late-January cockles, right?

I'll likely add this to water to drink as a delicious bitter beverage through these winter days leading toward spring. I may combine it with the Rumex crispus radix (yellow/curly dock root) infused vinegar, which I blend with other botanicals into a personal mineral 'n' vitamin supplement.

Whatever I do with it, I will honor and offer gratitude for the generous and reciprocal Medicine of Nature.

Peace.


Warming Winter Elderberry Syrup

There's as many ways to make elderberry syrup (and any botanical syrup) as there are herbalists to make it, and in as many variations as there are inspirations that each herbalist has in the moment they're making it.

When I make elderberry syrup for our little household, I pretty much make it different every time. Sometimes I add rose hips, citrus peel, ginger, cinnamon, cardamom, dried apple or other fruit, or something else, or some combination of botanicals. The one constant ingredient, other than - in this case - elderberries, is love. Always love.

Yet, as many botanical variations there may be, the process is simple. Simple in that it is an infused simple syrup. Simple syrup is a basic kitchen skill, and one that I've always thought that everyone had. I've come to understand - reluctantly, I confess - that basic kitchen skills have faded in the disempowering mists of corporate food indoctrination. And if you know me at all, I will fight to counter this, and I will do my best to bring back that which is being forgotten. And that includes making a simple syrup, from which medicinal syrups may be made manifest.

Anyone can do this. And I'm delighted to see more and more folks making it for themselves for the very first time, and my prayer is that their initiatory experience delights them so much that their curiosity and sense of play and experimentation lead to more (and more) Medicine making, and a renaissance in basic survival skills, AKA: kitchen skills. ::nods::

So I share with a basic recipe that I share in my wellness studio, in the hopes that it inspires at least one more curiosity seeker to make this delicious and immune-stimulating 'n' supporting syrup for themselves. And then be inspired from there. Here goes:

Warming Winter Elderberry Syrup

2 ounces dried elderberries
1 T. dried ginger
1 T. cinnamon chips or granules
4 cups water
Organic cane sugar

Place the botanicals in a lidded pot and cover with 4 cups of cool water. Place over moderate heat to bring to a gentle boil. Turn down the flame to a gentle simmer, covered, for about an hour or two. Strain and compost the plant matter. Measure your fluid and return it to the pot. For every cup of fluid add a cup of sugar, bring to the boil, stirring, to ensure the sugar is dissolved without scorching. Turn off the heat, cover and let cool before bottling and labeling. This syrup will keep in cold storage (AKA: the refrigerator) for months.

At the first tingle, tickle, sign of symptom, take a delicious and generous spoonful every couple of hours. You can take it as is, or sweeten a glass of water, or cup of tea, or in any way that inspires you in the moment. 

Like many botanical syrups that I make, you might want to use it as an everyday Wellness Food, as you would any syrup ~ on pancakes, over (or under) desserts, to sweeten water, yogurt, smoothies, teas and other beverages. I sometimes “spike” mine with a fitting cough-relief tincture to take when symptoms make manifest. Whatever you do, enJOY and be well by Nature!

“Let Food be the Medicine, and Medicine be thy Food.” ~words attributed to Hippocrates, the father of modern western medicine. 

One of the things I love about making elderberry syrup from the dried berries throughout autumn and winter is the seasonal magic that this amazing plant conjures within me. I recall the greening of the plant and sprouting of its leaves - and suckers - in spring. I recall the formation and evolution of green bud to creamy-white blossom, and eventually the dark, midnight blue berries. I recall the modest majesty of this royal plant, and the beauty and blessings it offers to our little acre and all life that visits there. It conjures warm, sunny days in the dead of winter. That's magic. That's Medicine.
Now go. Make some magic. Make some Medicine. Make some syrup. And be well by Nature. ::nods::

Peace.


Cacoa Chai Ashwagandha Balls


It’s chilly 'n' snowing and so it seems to be a good day for a small batch of warming Cacoa Chai Ashwagandha Balls. ::nods:: They're so Good, and so Good for ya. 

The recipe's not hard 'n' fast, so mix 'n' match your ingredients as your inspiration (and what you have on hand) guides you!



Cacoa Chai Ashwagandha Balls

cups nut butter or tahini
¼ cup syrup (maple, fruit,
herbal or honey)
½ t. vanilla extract
3 T. cacao*
3 T. ashwagandha powder
1 t. cardamom powder
1 t. cinnamon powder
1 t. ginger powder
1 t. grated nutmeg

Mix together the nut butter, syrup and vanilla. Blend in the powdered herbs (the contents of this kit), mix really well.

Roll into 1-inch balls (you many want to chill the “dough” a bit before rolling), dust in powdered cacao (or coconut, or hemp seeds, or anything of your choice).

These will keep in the refrigerator several weeks, if they last that long… enJOY!

Peace.