Ladies and Gentlemen, we regret to inform you...

Sorry, no blog this week.
I was celebrating my birthday.
Stay tuned next week for more fun stories and informative information about herbs!

May you take care of yourself happily!

Honey, the splinter slayer!

It’s Tuesday! I awoke his morning without a single idea as to what to write. Was I worried? 

Not at all. 

Like all procrastination-prone writers I knew inspiration would speak to me any time now…any time…uhh.

Sometimes inspiration comes as a small voice, like an idea that repeats itself softly until you grab on to it and say “Yeah! That’s what I’ll talk about.”

Other times it is loud, like in the form of a friend saying “Hey, I'm sick. What's good for this?"

This week, I got nothing.

Six o’clock rolled around. Still nothing.

Come on, inspiration.

Then it hit.

 In a flash of pain.

On this particularly beautiful and summer-esque day I decided to walk across the porch barefoot.

The old,

warped,

splinter-ridden

porch.

If this was my first year here, it would have caused bad blood between the house and I. Fortunately, I have lived here much longer, and love this beautiful old house very much. And by old, I mean 1825. Really, old.

So, no hard feelings.

Just a little pain.

I pulled out most of the splinter, but the ouchie persisted. Upon closer inspection I saw that a little bit of the original splinter it was still happily tucked there deep in my skin.

Ouch.

And yet, at the same time, this was the moment I was waiting for.

YES!

This is my perfect time to test honey.

Honey, you ask?

Yes, honey.

I learned at least a year ago that honey is good for pulling out stubborn splinters.

Honey???

Yes, let me explain why.

Honey is astringent, which means it sucks the water out of stuff. Imagine licking the green peel of a banana. Kinda puckers your mouth.

Now imagine you are microscopic bacteria, and the tiny bit of water that is in your body is all the life liquid you have in the world. A giant avalanche of honey comes, and in a glump, pulls out all the liquid inside of you and kills you. Laughing manically the whole time.

That’s why honey is anti-bacterial.

And with splinters, it sucks all the water out of the surrounding cells, and with a heave ho, it pushes the splinter up and out.

At least in theory. Today I get to put it to the test.

I am sitting on this beloved, but slightly more warily suspicious, porch with my foot tucked up in a lotus-like position with a glop of honey on the bottom of my foot.

No progress so far.

My foot has fallen asleep, though.

On top of killing all the bacteria in your cough-ridden throat, when you take a teaspoon of it, and coaxing stubborn splinters out, honey is good for a lot of other stuff as well;

Put directly on the sore, it helps heal external ulcers, wounds, cold sores, genital herpes sores, cysts, and other stubborn-healing sores.

Inside, it soothes the stomach and digestive tract. It also gives energy, and balances your electrolytes. Go, sports! Also, when sickness is so severe that diarrhea and vomiting is occurring and your own vital human fluids are running dangerously low.

And best of all, honey is an amplifier for the natural remedy it’s paired with! So add a touch of sweet honey to that peppermint/comfrey/raspberry/chamomile or whatever herbal remedy you are drinking this morning.

Just a spoon full of Honey helps the medicine go down!

AND, it never goes bad!

Tomorrow I’ll let you know how it goes!

Until then, may you take care of yourself happily. 

Hunting the Marshmallow

I got my first mosquito bite of the year this past Saturday. 

I looked down at the big bump on my arm just itching to be itched.

 Well hello summer.

I, unfortunately, am not possessed of the disposition to resist scratching mosquito bites. If I have a scratch, I itch…and itch…and itch.

           

So what did I do last Saturday? Did I dig my fingernails dig into my arm the whole rest of the day both relieving and furthering that insatiable itch?

Heck no. Nearby was a plantain plant. So I unassumingly bent down and took a leaf. Ripped it up, and put as much of the goopy part onto the itch as I could, before I returned the leaf back to the ground to be fertilizer for the rest of the surrounding plants.

And ‘ya know what?

Didn’t itch a bit the whole rest of the day!

 

Wondering what plantains look like. This is the Northern variety. Unfortunately there is a tropical plant also called Plantain that is a cross between a a banana and a potato. (Don’t judge, just try it) and they do not stop bug bite itchies, but they do make the best fried tostones EVER!!!

   

Here are two different varieties. They grow in almost everyone’s backyard. In my humble opinion, they SHOULD grow in everyone’s backyard, and side yard, and that annoying place right up next to the sidewalk that the weed-wacker can’t quite reach. I love plantain, very much.

Probably because it’s so helpful, and so darn hard to kill. Come to think of it, I need more stuff like that in my life.

This weekend I also continued my hunt for Marshmallow. 

Hunter's step aside, here's a real huntin' story

Last May I was riding my bike to work, when I remembered that it was Mother's Day. As I called my Mommy, I noticed pinkish flowers blooming in the wet marshy ditch beside the trail.

It was my first peek of the elusive Marshmallow in the wild!

From previous aimless wandering though my herb books… and before I finish this sentence, yes I do this. I think everyone should do this. Wander aimless within the hobby they love. You never know what you’ll find but you’ll never be bored!

I also think that you should do this so I don’t feel so alone when I do it…

So from my previous wandering through my herb books I suspected it was Marshmallow. But needed further investigation.

Yeah, the same kind we name the store bought marshmallows after.

I was tempted to stop and start collecting right then and there.

But at that time I thought the only part I could gather was the root for medicinal purposes. And I’m a bit hesitant to take roots, since it effectively ceases the plant’s future plans for kinda important things like... life!

I have since learned that you can harvest the flowers in the spring, the leaves in the summer and the roots in the fall. I like this much better!

But more importantly the reason I didn't stop was becasue I was running late for work that day, probably because some bonehead decided to take their bike.

So I didn’t have time to gather that day, but I promised to return sometime soon.

Sometime soon did not happen soon enough.  And without their flowers, they look like any other green marshy plant to me. Much as I love plants, I still am not willing to slosh around a marsh land looking for a 2-5 foot tall plant with velvety leaves, 3 lobed, serrated margins.

Sorry, even I have limits. And that looks way too close to other green lobed plants for me to feel with any certainty that it is in fact Marshmallow, and not that strange guy that shows up to Marshmallow family weddings but no one knows who he’s related to, and everyone secretly thinks he’s just one of those wedding crashers.

But this year proved a new chance to find and collect my elusive prey!

I was ready, I wanted to find it. Last weekend I walked a section of the trail I had biked the previous year and quickly realized that if it was a marsh plant I was looking for, I was in the wrong part. The forest was much too dry. It was woodlands, not a marshy, low lying wet area at all.

I walked on, hoping to see a puddle, then two, and finally an emergence of my tricky Marshmallow. I could get to know what the plant looked like, so I could go back to it in the summer and fall after the flowers left.

There was not a single puddle. And I did not find the Marshmallow.

So sad.

But I did find wintergreen! The real plant. That puts the gum to shame, with its striking cold, clear minty smell. Almost like tasting a color, deep icy blue, with flecks of emerald green and crystal imbedded in it too. Oh dear, not I’m sounding like a gum commercial.

So last weekend’s hunt was a wash, but surely I’d get lucky this weekend, right. Fortune favors the steadfast, or so I hope.

So this weekend, Mother’s Day, I was feeling lucky. I headed to a different part of the trail. I found the marshy part! I found Marsh Marigolds with their buttercup yellow little waxy flowers proudly proclaiming that the area was a bit on the soggy side.

And if that wasn’t proof enough, I accidentally stepped into a huge puddle and was surprised, in a good way, to learn that my hiking boots are more waterproof than I thought.

Hunting the marshmallow checklist

Find the marsh…check.

Be there in the right time of year…check

Look for those perdy little pink flowers….

Found your prey!

So 2011 Mother’s day I saw the Marshmallow, that precious and elusive game of mine.  So this Mother’s Day weekend they have to be around here. I have my timing right… right?

Right!?

Except that it was a short winter this year. After a half hour of searching I knew what it was like to be Elmer Fudd after a bad day of hunting. Not that anyone stuck a carrot in my musket or anything. I begrudgingly relinquished my search, guessing they must have finished their blooming, and have returned back to their green, botanical obscurity for another year. 

Tricky prey, you’ve eluded me, yet again!

I returned home with no Marshmallow flowers.

But I did find Horsetail! Which is super high in minerals, it’s an ancient plant that has been on the earth since Dinosaurs walked the earth. And who’s fossils we burn as coal.

I learned last year that horsetail can only be collected when it’s young. Otherwise, as a defense mechanism to being plucked and eaten, it forms a toxin in it. But as a youngster it doesn’t have that defense yet.

And there were loads of youngsters lining the trail!

And so, while I didn’t find what I was looking for. I definitely found something. Two things actually, if you count last weekend’s wintergreen find! I know another source of wintergreen, as well as horsetail. And am now drying horsetail that is young enough to use! And freezing wintergreen for whenever I need it!

And as for that elusive game called Marshmallow…

Well, there is always next year. My interest is not going anywhere. And come next Mother’s day, my eagle eyes will be out for those light pink flowers, or anything else I recognize in forest, fields, and yes, even swamps.

 

Here’s to the people who smell flowers.

Here’s to the people with dirt under their fingers

Here’s to the people whose bare feet have tickled the earth

Here’s to the people whose smell of sweat and wild wind.

Here’s to the people who work elbow to elbow with bees, butterflies, and bats.

Here’s to the people who talk to their plants.

Who prune other people’s plants.

Who get that fatherly look of pride when talking about seedlings,

Or that bargain shopper’s look when the find a Lemon Verbena plant, or Stevia, or other new one for their garden.

Here’s to you, with the funny suntan.

Here’s to you. 

You have my admiration, and respect.

May you take care of yourself happily. 

Balm of Gilead is smelly!

So tonight’s blog is in honor of a coworker who is heading out to Yellowstone to work the summer. He is a true blue Yooper, just give him a couple of beers and listen to how he says “boot, boat, or suit” (Boooot).

Last summer we were all working together and living in the same housing unit, fondly called “The House”. Girls on the right side and boys on the left.

I had spent much of my winter before looking through books and excitedly waiting for plants to return to life to continue practicing my herbal skills on them. And the newest plant I wanted to acquaint myself with was Balsam Poplar. Specifically their buds, which held much of their healing.

Balsam Poplar buds are reddish brown and are over ½ inch long. They are sticky and pungent. Last year I dyed my fingertips red collecting them. In the spitting rain and cold biting wind, it didn’t matter. The herbs were back and I was happy!

Excited to be back in the saddle after months of no gathering, drying, or tincturing, only dreaming. I excitedly started making the newly collected buds into a salve.

Now I was more concerned with following the instructions the right way, and gently reintroducing warm blood back into my extremities. I didn’t realize that the buds were causing a smell. Quite a strong smell, actually.

Until my co-worker, whom this blog is fondly dedicated to, loudly exclaimed in the hallway right outside my kitchen door.

“EWWW, WHAT IS THAT SMELL?”

To which my best reply was... “Shut up!”

I should disclaimer that it’s not normal to use strong language with coworkers. But living together and the culture of that job creates a crazy family dynamic. So it’s ok to say that to your brother… who you also happen to work with.

I finished making my salve, which came out a pretty brown red color. Had a good lotion-like consistency. And, of course, smelled like balsam.

He teased me about smelling up half the house. And asked what the heck it was. When I told him it was nature’s version of icy hot for deep muscle relaxing. His eyes lit up. His knees had taken a beating from years of hockey, both playing and refereeing. He asked if he could have some.

I said sure.

Then his nose wrinkled and he asked if I could make it smell differently.

Sure, I’ll just waive my magic wand. If I could do that, I’d also make the boys side of the house not smell like unwashed socks.

Instead I mixed peppermint extract in with it. So it really did smell more like icy hot. Within a half hour of putting it on. He burst onto the porch where many people were sitting and chatting and gave me a big, teddy bear hug, saying his knees felt great.

Another convert to herbs!

Balsam Poplar has an interesting history. The term, Balm of Gilead is in reference to this plant.

It is part of the willow family, so it naturally has that pain-relieving quality that we find in aspirin.  The buds boiled then put in alcohol is actually a preservative that can be used in with other herbs. It’s similar to the stuff you can buy in stores called tincture of benzoin.

Hey, maybe that’ll be my next project, since the buds are out! Balsam preserve. It’s used in some make-up proucts to prevent them from getting rancid.

Used externally, a tea of balsam is used for things as extreme as frostbite, to sunburn, to sores. It’s even said to be effective in arthritis and rheumatism.

Inside, the bud tea is used for coughs and lung ailments, and kidney issues.

The inner bark was used to cure scurvy (so it’s high in vitamin C), as well as an effective eyewash. It’s been even used a quinine substitute for all you malaria infested people. 

Root teas are used for headaches, probably because of that natural aspirin quality.

Even the smell helps to clear the nostrils, somewhat like menthol, the stuff in Vick’s vapor rub.

Now if you wish to collect this wonderful herb yourself, you must first understand that Poplars, Cottonwoods, and Aspens are all closely related, and are all in the Willow family (so they all have that cool aspirin thing going on!)

Please note that yellow poplar and tulip poplar are not actually poplar trees. They are adopted and don’t have the family blood ties to the Willow and its aspirin qualities.

Yes, that’s right, even trees have red-headed stepchildren.

The first place I read about Balsam Poplars was in conjunction with Aspen trees, which resulted in me walking around staring at random tree branches asking the air if this was red enough, which meant it was a Balsam Poplar, or if it was more yellow and long, which would make it an Aspen.

Balsam poplar is accepted as a mainstream treatment in Germany. There is no connectable negative side effects or toxic interaction with Balsam buds or any other part of the plant. Although, I should warn that those of us who have allergies may be allergic to them.

Other uses for the plant include as wood pulp, although they are a soft wood, and therefore thought to be of low quality. I don’t know if balsam wood that you can buy at hobby shops are made from the same tree.

It is not part of balsamic vinegar, the “Balm” in balsamic is in reference to it being restorative and curative. Thanks Wikipedia!

Until we meet again, may you take care of yourself happily. 

Relax, it's not that kind of May Day.

Chamomile.

The Romans called it ground apple, for its apple-y scent.

Personally, I think their noses were broken. I’ve never smelled apple from chamomile before. But I did smell something. Can’t quite put my finger on it. Maybe it's just chamomile smell. But who am I to argue with Cesars, I'll just keep my opinions to myself.

The Germans called it something else, probably something hard to pronounce. Both varieties are nearly identical.

Chamomile is known as a soothing herb. It is effective for those with anxiety and nervous tension who just can’t relax, who are overly sensitive, or rarely satisfied.

I don’t know about you, but when I imagine the kind of person sipping chamomile tea, this is the image that comes to mind. I think of my 90 year old neighbor lady in the evening sipping a cup of tea next to a lamp as needlework is spread pleasingly across her lap. She sips the last of it, then turns off the radio that was playing Billie Holiday quietly beside her. She rises, and heads to a sweet, picturesque sleep under a colorful perfectly stitched quilt and a feather tick mattress.

It’s a great picture, isn’t it? But what does that have to do with our lives?

Chamomile helps soothe… duh.

But what do we, in the real world, need soothing for?

There is no time! There is too much stuff that we have to do!

Get the dishes out of the dishwasher, make the kid’s lunches for tomorrow, make sure everyone gets a shower, except for the dog, “Hey, get that dog out of the shower! That’s the last time I told you!” Turn off the TV, which mysteriously turns itself back on, fold clothes; find your car keys. Make sure you have food for dinner tomorrow, pull your sheets out of the dryer, along with your daughter’s Barbie dolls that her brother hid.

And then we wonder why when we collapse in bed we are tense as walnuts with lists and lists running through our minds and sleep far behind. 

What happens in our bodies when we are stressed and running around satisfying these task-master lists of ours?

Well the secondary functions take a back seat, while the primary ones get more blood.

Your brain, and heart are primary.

Fight or flight says that you have to think, and you have to run. But you don’t have to eat.

But things like you stomach, that’s secondary. So when you eat in stressed out mode, your stomach can’t break it down like it should. Now multiply this by all the times you are overtaxed and you wolf something down on the run.

Your stomach can’t digest it as well as it could. Neither can the rest of your organs that gets those vital stuffs from our food into our bodies. Liver, pancreas, gall bladder, small intestines, large intestines they all get the short end of the stick.

So chamomile is kind of like a reset button. It is a voice that says to your body,

“Well done, but now you can let go. Just live.”

It increases blood flow to your secondary systems that have been shoved on the back burner. Which translates to a whole bunch of digestive eases, like relieving;

• Mouth inflammations
• Stomach cramping and pain
• Bloating
• Irritable bowels (hey, what goes in, must come out)

Good things!

It also relaxes things that are constricted like muscles and blood vessels. 

What can de-constricted blood vessels relieve? 

Oh, not much… just stuff like headaches, stomach cramps, as well as menstrual cramps.

What about on the skin? Well thanks to German scientists, they discovered that chamomile is just a little bit antimicrobial. So put it on wounds, insect bites, or even eczema and it soothes while killing anything that may cause an infection (without the horrible pain of rubbing alcohol. Ow, Ow, Ow!).It’s also good for preventing swelling from bruises as well as soothing sunburned skin.

Chamomile is mild enough for babies. Chamomile in a nighttime bath helps baby sleep better. Chamomile can be used for babies who are teething, as well as colic-y.  

Moms to be, watch out for chamomile essential oil (which is actually a deep shade of blue!), it may send you running to the potty more if you take it while expecting.

But new moms who are dealing with the post-baby blues, drink lots of it, it is said to adhere to the same receptors in the brain as valium, but is milder and in no way addicting!

If you are deathly allergic to ragweed, there is a slight chance you may be allergic to chamomile too. 

Real, non processed chamomile is very potent. If you are able to harvest it yourself, dry it, and use it. It’ll be way more effective than store bought ones that you don’t know how old they are. 

Does age really make a difference? I'm glad you asked!

Think of herbs like bread, Fresh baked bread is great! Day old bread is ok. But two week/month/year old bread is sketchy.

Unfortunately herb companies are not bakers and don’t always say how old its been since the herb was harvested. But if you go wandering and pick the flower heads yourself (anytime in the summer that they are flowering) then you know exactly how they are dried, how they are stored, and how old are they. Rather than having that nagging thought of who is older, you or the herb

Wanna go flower picking?.

Chamomile flowers look like tiny daisies with a yellow disk and white small petals. . Most are smaller than the size of your pinky nail. The yellow part is typically rounded and the petals, rather than coming straight out from the flower, go back and point toward the stem. The flower heads are the most medicinally potent part of the plant, and scent filled too! There are many flowers on a plant

When gathering please show respect for the plant by not taking ever single flower Give the plant a chance to reproduce and live out it life. How would you like it if someone took all your flowers, huh?

Dry them by setting them on a cookie sheet, or other flat surface away from sunlight for up to two weeks. Make sure they are spread out and have room for air to circulate And don’t hesitate to swirl them around with your fingers as they dry. You’ll get that great apple smell. Or chamomile smell, depending on how your nose works.

Store in a zip-lock bag, or other container after the chamomile is dry and crumbly between your fingers. As it ages, keep in mind it'll lose it's potency. I have some that is 3 years old that still smells and works. But not nearly as well as freshly dried stuff. 

Until next week, may you take care of yourself happily.