The Hedge of Summer Autumn

 

I've been incubating this summer, in a mostly solitary manner. But today, today...

Autumn arrives this afternoon on the patch of earth to which we steward, tend, and love so deeply. This patch of earth - and every stretch of her - is beloved kin; kin to which I am devoted.

The backyard farming tasks that sustain this patch of earth, and us - all of us - are ramping up now; a ramping up that (historically) continues to accelerate deep into October, winding down in November, and dwindling into the winter months, though never stopping, even after the snow falls .

The last few days of kitchen witchery have been focused on canning soups; “stuffed” cabbage soup, “stuffed” pepper soup, and harvest vegetable soup. Today’s focus will be on the green beans, along with other harvest-to-kitchen-to-pantry efforts. Then there will be time in the gardens where summer squashes await attention, along with eggplant, tomatoes, peppers, tomatillos, broccoli tops, basils, and more. And these harvests will inspire more kitchen magick.

I love every season, especially the one I'm in at the moment I'm in it. Know what I mean? I feel that love beyond my roots this morning. And with this, I feel a part of me stirring, as if awakening from a long, deep, dream-sleep. It feels good and right on this hedge-day that holds summer and autumn together in the heart me, in the heart of this patch of earth, in the heart of life-harvests, in the heart of Gaia, in the heart this world that we share.

Make a moment to pause, breathe, to take in the goodness, the gladness, the gratitude. Take it in. All the way in. Today. And every day.

Peace.

Leaning on Spring's Sill to Summer

This morning marked our first pea harvest. I sat on the deck, in the shade of the red umbrella, shucking these darlings, then blanched them. This beloved ritual yielded two pints for the freezer, plus some extra for nibbling. They’re so good.

This morning also marked the garlic scape harvest. The lesser-ripe, tender scapes went into making Maneuljjong Muchim (Spicy Garlic Scapes), an new annual ritual that started about two years ago when I discovered the recipe. It’s sitting in the fridge to macerate ‘til supper time. This seasonal dish is so freakin’ good, and it’s only here during the garlic scape season. I’ll be savoring it like a delicious madness to hold in my brain and heart ‘til - gods willing - next year this time. And those lesser-ripe scapes will be blended into a simple pesto to preserve them in the fridge for future kitchen witchery. Our annual garlic scape pesto rarely lasts long because we use it in all the things.

Yesterday, I finally got some pinto and red beans canned. This has been on my list since the chilly days of early spring. Eight pints of pinto beans canned with onion, garlic, bay leaf, fresh oregano, and fresh epazote (though one jar is in the fridge, ‘cause it failed to seal)… and nine pints of red beans with bay leaf. This morning I washed the jars, scribbled the labels, and will label them all before setting them on the basement pantry shelves.

These efforts feel good because I’ve been struggling with merging will, motivation, and physical ‘n’ mental energy to get things done. Yet here I am, leaning on spring’s sill, sipping iced tea, gazing into summer that arrives tomorrow evening. I offer big gratitude to the waning vernal season, as it, along with beloved Gaia, supported me gently in getting most every vernal seed and seedling into the earth. And when summer arrives with the solstice, I know I’ll be entering the "official" hurry-up-and-wait-season of daily, yet gentle harvesting, preserving and assorted kitchen witchery. Summer's fire ensures that my will, motivation, and energy meld in that gentle way that early summer dictates; harvests happen on Gaia’s schedule, not mine, so I offer thanks for these recent vernal preparations as I look forward to the season of hurry-up-and-wait.

Peace. 

Putting Off Today

As you may already know, every morning I draw a tarot card for guidance. This morning I drew the V Swords. My brain first went to - what I consider to be - the conventional interpretations which perplexed me, and nothing was landing. Know what I mean? When I'm perplexed like this, I relax my brain, engage intuition to invite personal, and unconventional messages from the pure imagery.

I landed, in summary here: Chill, stay focused... and aware of the internal 'n' external discord. It's OK to give it a rest, and return to it tomorrow.

That resonated. So I put off some (exhausting) adulting planned for this morning, and will revisit it tomorrow. I also pressed the pause button on some of the The Work in which I’ve been swirling. In its stead, I harvested the ripe-n-ready garlic, even though it was damp from last evening's delicious downpour. It's drying in the greenhouse, and will make its way in a day 'r two to the curing tables in the garage. I took a shower (outdoors, ahhhh) and am chillin' in front of the fan as I type.

…today’s garlic harvest, and yesterday’s french grey shallot harvest…

I'm gonna make some Thai dipping sauce to can - outdoors - using some of the previously harvested garlic. I failed to make any last year, and I need this on my pantry shelves. And I’m thinking I need to plan making the Monarda fistulosa (bee balm) jelly now that blooms are delighting. 

The rest today, though, will be wondering and wandering toward the calming shorelines of my mind (‘n’ intuition)... where secrets yet unknown to me may be whispered.

🕊

Meet & Dance with Melissa officinalis – Lemon Balm

 

Meet Melissa officinalis  – Lemon Balm 

Family: Lamiaceae

Melissa officinalis is a vigorous perennial of the “mint family,” native to Europe, Central Asia and Iran that’s been naturalized all over the globe. In our region her aerial parts die back in winter and return in spring. Its square stems offer opposite ovate-to-heart-shaped toothed and lightly downy leaves that grow 1-3 inches. The plant will grow 1-3 feet, depending on soil conditions. The buds appear yellow and bloom white.

Harvest: Aerial parts – typically before or at bud yet before bloom, summer to autumn. To prevent the plant from spreading, and it will, cut it back at flower, before seeds form, and add the plant matter to your compost, or use as green mulch. 

Taste: Sour, with subtle bitters.

Humors/ Energetics: Cool, dry, mildly stimulating

Actions: antidepressant, antispasmodic, anti-microbial (with some recent emphasis on anti-viral), carminative, diaphoretic, emmenagogue, nervine, relaxant, and more.

Constituents: bitters, flavonoids, tannins, volatile oils (citral, citronellal and others), and more.

Contraindications: Rare allergies. May interfere with the action of thyroid hormones. Avoid long-brewed nutritional type infusions of any duration.

Rosalee de la Foret writes, “It is often said that Lemon Balm is contraindicated for people with hypothyroidism. Prior to writing this I asked around the herbal community and several herbalists reported using lemon balm with people who had under-active thyroids and it did not change their thyroid blood tests. If you have an under-active thyroid you probably don’t want to consume this plant in excess.” We’ll revisit this topic and Rosalee’s perspective in the “Uses” section.

Uses: 

To open, I’m inspired to share that Hildegard von Bingen expressed this of lemon balm, “Lemon balm contains within it the virtues of a dozen other plants.” So, yeah: This botanical holds within it some interesting Medicine and offers many potential uses.

Melissa has proved helpful for anxiety and insomnia, and seems to blend nicely with other nervines for both enhancing flavor and desired action. It’s also a useful addition to formulas that address symptoms that are triggered or exacerbated by anxiety (and depression). I’ve been known to blend her with motherwort (Leonurous cardiaca), not just for the calming actions, but specifically when working through distasteful interpersonal challenges. This blend is very tasty to me, and it calms and soothes my heart and being, helping me to stay centered and grounded in grace and compassion, which I’ve been known to desperately need in certain intense instances. Lemon balm has been noted as useful in harmonizing heart palpations, and I imagine its antispasmodic actions may play a role here… and synergizes the same action on the heart that motherwort offers. Kiva Rose has said of lemon balm, “I personally use it for panic attacks with heart palpitations where the panic is very buzzy feeling.” I love the buzzy reference here, because bees love this plant (thus its name), as do their keepers.

David Hoffman writes that it “has a tonic effect on the heart and circulatory systems and causes mild vasodilatation peripheral vessels, thus lowering blood pressure.” 

Clients have found the relaxing nervine actions of this plant helpful alone and in formulas dealing with anxious insomnia, where thoughts flare (think fire) and jolt them to wakefulness, and keep them awake. A squirt of tincture quiets and cools their response enabling them to return to rest.

Henriette Kress suggests tucking a lemon balm bag under your pillow to help you fall asleep.

When adrenal stress is presented, a tincture blend with milky oats (or oat straw, if milky oats aren’t at hand) can be supportive for cooling and calming the nervous system and the feelings that often feed the stressful fight or flight reactions.

It’s been claimed that lemon balm has beneficial impacts for dealing with hyperactivity, though I’ve not witnessed this, either first or second hand, so if you do, please let me know about your experience.

Matthew Wood writes of lemon balm’s ability “to calm and relax conditions of mild nervousness and upset” adding that, “the sour lemon balm is cooling, in addition to relaxing, and therefore sedates through reducing the excitation of heat as well as nervousness.”

Some of the considerations stated thus far might inspire you to think of it as useful in working with stress headaches, shoulder/upper-back tension – internally and externally. And you’d be right. It blends nicely with betony (stachys officinalis)and/or blue vervain (verbena hastada) for these purposes.

Rosalee de la Foret writes, “Heart palpitations, nervous tension, insomnia, and hyperactivity are all classic indications for lemon balm and these combined describe what some people experience when their thyroid becomes overactive, such as in Grave’s disease. In fact, a blend of lemon balm, bugleweed (Lycopus spp.) and motherwort (Leonorus cardiacus) is a classic western formula for a hyperactive thyroid.” This symptom picture is not uncommon during menopause, when (from my way of thinking) the whole of the endocrine system is re-harmonizing, which includes thyroid involvement. So, that’s worth keeping in mind.

The anti-viral actions of lemon balm have been lab tested as well as clinically and experientially validated, especially in dealing with the herpes simplex virus. I had one client, several years back, who swore by it in managing genital outbreaks, externally as a sitz bath and wash, and internally as a tincture (as part of a formula). Lemon balm has been reported to lesson the severity and duration of outbreaks as well as serve to prevent them. Another client who experienced mouth sores used a diluted tincture as a mouth rinse (alongside other treatment), and now rarely experiences outbreaks, yet (last I heard) continued using the mouth rinse.

David Hoffman writes of its antiviral virtues, “hot water extracts have antiviral properties, possibly due in part to the presence of rosmarinic acid and other polyphenolics. A lotion-based extract may be applied to herpes simplex skin lesions, the antiviral activity having been confirmed in both laboratory and clinical trials.”

Its actions as an emmenagogue are considered mild and helpful in encouraging stalled menstruation, while its antispasmodic actions work to relieve menstrual cramping. Brilliant!

Lemon balm is also respected for its carminative actions to cool and soothe an upset tummy, bloat and digestive cramping. Especially as a tea, it's a great digestive tonic.

Maude Grieve writes of lemon balm’s history of use for wounds and venomous stings, "The juice of Balm glueth together greene wounds,” and adds the opinion of Pliny and Dioscorides that “Balm, being leaves steeped in wine, and the wine drunk, and the leaves applied externally, were considered to be a certain cure for the bites of venomous beasts and the stings of scorpions." So don’t discount its topical potential!

Deb Soule suggests that a tea of “Melissa helps reduce a mild fever and is safe for young children, the elderly, and pregnant and nursing mothers.”

With respect to children, lemon balm really is yummy and that makes it a great choice for kids. As David Winston says, “I am often asked by parents what herbs are safe and effective for children. Though children often deal with the same ailments as adults, the herbal protocol is restricted to what is safe, effective, and in my criteria, what tasted good. One of my favorite herbs for children is lemon balm (Melissa officinalis). Lemon balm helps children with sleep, particularly those who have bad dreams or are scared before bed. It's also great for kids that get angry or anxious, thanks to its calming and mood-elevating properties. For children who have hyperacidity, lemon balm can offer relief from tummy aches, and when used with ginger, can offer great relief from indigestion. Finally, a strong tea of lemon balm can be applied to herpes sores on lips in order to dry out the herpes and make the outbreaks shorter. Melissa is gentle, safe, and effective, making it a great herb for children. Not to mention, it makes a delicious cup of tea!”

The scent of lemon balm is bright and uplifting, and simply having some around, be it fresh or dried, can improve a dark mood. I’ve used this botanical in this way for addressing the symptoms of SAD, as tea, tincture and talisman.

I often add its fresh leaves and flowers to spiritual healing waters, or carry some in a Spirit Bag, and have discovered some profound results with those dealing with anxiety and depression that is rooted in clinging grief.

This modest and ubiquitous plant has some Big Medicine to offer. Get to know her and hold her close.

---

Dance with Melissa officinalis  – Lemon Balm 

This fragrant and tasty botanical offers great creative potential for culinary and medicinal applications. Get buzzin’!

Carmelite Water
This alcohol extract dates back to the 14^th century when the Carmelite sisters of the Abbey of Saint Just created what’s credited as the first formulation. It was used internally as a general tonic, and externally as a multi-purpose toilet water. I first learned about it years back in reading my first copy of Maude Grieve’s A Modern Herbal. This is one of those formulas that herbalists have been creating for years by this name, and with countless variations. I've made a formula using:

• Fresh lemon balm (leaves, and a few budding and flowering tops)

• Fresh mugwort leaves (because I love its bitters)

• Fresh elder flowers (because it was available)

• Fresh lemon zest (organic)

• Dried coriander, finger crushed

• Grated nutmeg

• Clove

• Cinnamon chips

Nothing was measured. Lightly packed a jar with the lemon balm, added the mugwort, elder flowers, lemon zest, coriander, nutmeg, cover with an ethanol of choice, and macerate 3-6 days. Add clove and cinnamon and macerate another 3-6days.

Candied Lemon Balm Leaves                                                                                                  

Beat an egg white with a tiny bit of water. Dip lemon balm leaves in the mixture, then dip in sugar. Lay the coated leaves on a parchment lined baking sheet. Place the baking sheet in a 200 degree F oven until the leaves look dry, but not browned. Check after 20 minutes and every 5 to 10 after that. – recipe from thenerdyfarmwife.com

---

And here’s some of the typical herbal ideas with some lemon balm specific twists:

• tea / tisane – iced in summer: Oh yeah.

• tincture for internal, external and culinary use

• water infusion for baths, bathing, foot soaks, and topical washes

• cold infused water, for sipping and enjoyment

• syrup

• jelly

• hard candy

• popsicles, sorbet, and the like

• infused honey

• infused vinegar

• oxymel or shrub

• elixir or cordial

• herbal powder

• added to homemade fermented beverages, soft and spirited

• Ale, wine, mead.

• in cooking, as a garnish, in sauces and pesto, in the cavity of roasted poultry, chopped into grain dishes, in salads, butters, puddings, gelatins, ice cream, cookies, scones, pancakes… you get the idea.

• infused wine

• infused oils, salves, balms, soaps

• steams

• baths and soaks

• dried for stuffing pillows, poppets, and the like

• blessing smoke

• spiritual baths and healing ceremonies

---

resources:    

• Maude Grieve, A Modern Herbal

• Rosalee de la Foret, Alchemy of Herbs, herbalremediesadvice.org

• David Hoffman, Medical Herbalism

• David Winston, his Facebook page

• Deb Soule, A Woman’s Book of Herbs

• Henriette Kress, Practical Herbs

• Matthew Woods, The Earthwise Herbal, woodherbs.com

• Personal notes from multiple sources

• Personal experience

🕊 Peace

Solidago in Winter

It's a mild, overcast day in January. I have seed packets to organize into a "calendar" of action, as some will be getting started very soon. 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 a local Solidago (goldenrod) species left from an infusion made on a sunny August day. So lovely, 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. It was placed on a shelf, out of direct sunlight, where it's been given gentle, loving shakes every so often. Today it gets strained, bottled, and labeled for use. That's how it's done. So simple, right? After all herbalism is The People's Medicine: It belongs to all of us. All. 

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 cuore of cold winter; that time of year that here in southern New England we know spring is on the way, even as 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. But it's a fine addition to many a food preparation, salads, vegetables, meats, and - oh my yes - soups.

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

[a version of this post was shared 1/22/19 at When Weeds Whisper]

Peace. 🕊

Patience

We're perched on the rim of autumn's arrival in my part of the world, and my work table awaits me with projects, mending and repairs, art journaling, and some adulting to be addressed before November's arrival.  And even though November's arrival still feels a long way off, methinks we all know... tempus fugit. 

And it's because of that winged time that my focus points only to the gardens right now, on the harvests, and the preservations in progress. Today there's Lunga di Napoli, a winter squash, that needs harvesting so the curing may begin... there's harvested crabapples that need attention... autumn crops that need some love, and the daily garden harvests 'n' maintenance that go with growing 'n' preserving a lion's share of our food. 

It's work, no doubt, yet it is profound enJOYment and magical Medicine that nourishes 'n' sustains us in oh so many ways. Plus, I dig "shopping" in our pantries, in a far out way. 

So today, as my work table holds its pattern in this seasonal suspended animation, I'll be harvesting green beans for dinner as well as for the dehydrator... making crabapple juice... prepping tomatoes to dry, and bag for the freezer (for future purée), harvesting those winter squash, some amaranth, broom corn, various greens, summer squash, and more... and managing the seasonal lists for the days ahead. 

So for my creative friends participating in this week's What's on Your Workdesk? Wednesday, that's my deal... a work table in the waiting. And I do look forward to the days of opening a jar of homemade garden soup for a quick meal so I can catch up on those projects patiently waiting.

Peace. 🕊 

 

Garden Canning Season

The garden canning season has officially begun on our little acre, with 8 quarts minestrone soup, and 4 quarts of beans in highly seasoned water. This is roughly 24 meals. And I say that’s not too shabby.

Next up will be stuffed pepper soup, and stuffed cabbage soup. And other stuff. But not today. Today we wait patiently for these jars to process. Tomorrow we’ll wash them, label them, and put them on the shelves.

I’m already looking forward to our fast slow food this winter.

I’m feeling very grateful.

🕊

Tomato Bounty

 

Rain is in tomorrow’s forecast, so today is about getting out into the gardens to make sure harvests get harvested.

First, I have to get the harvested, fully ripened tomatoes into the dehydrator. Then, and only then will I have room for what’s to come.

I’m so grateful for this bounty. Bounty to share, bounty to enJOY in the moment, and bounty to nourish ‘n’ sustain us through the months ahead.

Peace. 🕊

A Liminal Ramble from the Full Moon Hedge

 

This past full Lughnasadh moon, the first of two full moons this August, has expressed a pronounced yet gentle verve to me.

One of my habitual moon rituals is, at the full moon, to assess all that's in my moon cauldron and to engage the days of waning moon to empty these holy bits so that by the new moon the cauldron is void, empty of holy bits, so that I may choose what to add to explore during the waxing phase. 

So now, as we move beyond this brilliant full moon, it would be time for me to start emptying my moon cauldron in preparation for the upcoming new moon. Make sense? I sometimes wonder if it does. ::nods:: But that's beside the point. You see, this full moon handed me a word, and that word in Linger.

Linger.

I don't know what it means, but I do know that when Luna offers a gift, I accept it. I'll embrace it until such time I'm able - and willing - to acknowledge and honor what I discover as I unwrap and explore the contents of this gift.

Even in my befuddlement I feel how this word, this gift - Linger - resonates within and around me. It feels moored to another word that has been holding my conscious awareness, and driving my recent work - Liminality. This recent work, and the word itself, is inspired by the book Living Resistance, by Kaitlin B. Curtice (a read I most definitely recommend). This work with liminality has been going on for a while, and is anchored somewhere in early 2022, before I read the book, and when I returned to Hedge work, as I call it... working in and with those spaces between spaces. 

Linger. Liminality. Hedge.

So here I am, pondering the intersection of these web threads that are holding me, pronounced yet gentle. Swaying in their embrace as I prepare to pass through the gate of 65/11/2 in October. There's nuance here, yet I can feel the tug to leave that unexpressed for now, and let it linger.

So here I rest - for today - swaying with the swing, pronounced yet gentle, as I Linger.

Linger.

Peace. 🕊

Lughnasadh Blessings

 

August kicks off - in my realm - with sunshine, good air quality, unusual tempered temperatures, and a good dose of righteous indignation. And being a backyard farmer with some Irish in me, this holy time of Lughnasadh holds a special place in my life and in my heart. 

Of course, any event that honors the earth, our divine Mother, my beloved Nona Gaia, her abundance 'n' generosity, is an event that I'll embrace with a madness. Such earth-centered holy days act to ground - and ground again 'n' again - my dedication to nurturing the living rituals that are part of my daily living. Rituals that nourish and sustain life. All life. Thus, that righteous indignation (but that's yet another rant for yet another day, gods willing ::knock wood::). 

Righteous indignation aside, today I'll be harvesting green beans, zucchini, kale, collards, beets, maybe another cabbage, french fingerlings, peppers, green onions, the first couple of ripe tomatoes, and possibly a few carrots... parsley, dill, cilantro, summer savory, Mexican mint, calendula, mullein, monarda, yarrow, other botanicals, and - yep - sweet, sweet basil. 

Not to mention echinacea, wild carrot, zinneas, and other blossoms to add color 'n' verve to our day, and days. 

What color 'n' verve are you harvesting this holy day, this season, this life that nourish and sustain? What prayers do you live? 

What prayers do you live?

Peace. 🕊

Good Hydration for Every Season

We have an unusual cool spell upon us in my little realm of the world. I will welcome the springlike temps projected for the coming week, as they offer odd refreshment to the recent days of more typical summer heat and humidity. 

A friend recently said that I was "wired for this weather," meaning the summer heat, and in a way she may be right. I grew up just south of the so-called Mason Dixon line, in southern Delaware, where heat and humidity consumed the months from spring to autumn. I learned from old-timers there that work was for the morning 'n' evening hours, while rest in shade was for mid-day. This pattern holds wisdom that is reflected in most life, a reflection we'd be wise to reclaim from the insidious 'n' unsustainable systems that consume us. But, that's a rant for another day. 

In 2005 I posted a blog entry expressing the heat of a late July day. I wrote: 

"I worked up a sweat just taking the dog out to tend to his business. So, we’re talkin’ stroll... stand... stroll... back indoors to drink a big glass home-brew mineral water. What might that be, you ask? Well, it changes from day to day, but at the moment, it's a strong infusion of nettles and oatstraw, strained and diluted in more water with a sprinkle of sea salt. You can squeeze a bit of lemon in that too, if you like."

But the heart of that entry was sharing a blend that had been shared with me by Jenny Fairservis MSOM L.Ac.. It's a blend I return to often, and one I've shared with folx for decades now.

Electrolyte and Muscle Relaxing Drink
1 Tablespoon raw local Honey 
1 dash to 1 teaspoon of raw Apple Cider Vinegar 
1 pinch of Sea Salt 
1 tea cup to 12oz. of Warm Water 

Mix honey, salt and vinegar in the bottom of the cup then add warm water and stir until the honey has dissolved. This should taste good, the amount of vinegar is up to you. 

During summer's extreme heat I'll sometimes make a an 8 ounce base of the honey, vinegar, and salt mixture so I can simply add a tablespoon to a class of water, shake/stir, and get back to the work or rest rhythm of my day.

So now I document this here, for you, and for me. So whatever the weather, do your best to stay hydrated, and if it's hot, cool yourself down with a cool, damp cloth wrapped behind the neck as you sip this, or some other nourishing 'n' sustaining beverage. 

A version of this entry was originally posted July 30, 2005 on whatever venue I was using at the time.

Peace. 🕊

Garden Gratitudes

 

Today I'm grateful for the beauty of the echinacea blooms that greet me as I enter the vegetable garden via the "main" gate. I'm grateful, too, for our makeshift outdoor kitchen - in essence, an up-cycled sink with hot 'n' cold running water, and an electric burner.

I've got ten trays of blanched collard greens sitting in the sun. It's not been long, and they're already mostly dried. I'll finish them in the dehydrator, and hopefully get a second batch done after lunch.

But before lunch I'll be harvesting some green coriander seeds to fridge, freeze 'n' ferment, all part of another bit of today's gratitude directed to the generous spirit of Alan the ForagerChef for this collection of coriander inspiration.

Later, I'll be harvesting the last of the shallots and making room for them on the curing tables in the garage... and transplanting the cruciferous babes into larger pots so they may grow strong before planting them in the earth in a week 'r two.

There's more, but you're done reading for now, right?

Peace. 🕊

Floral Medicine

In this season there's something to be harvested every day. This morning I'll survey our little acre to see what will have my attention for today's harvest.

Already I know there will be more comfrey leaves to harvest for drying, red clover and calendula blossoms. Yarrow, Saint Joan's wort buds, and other blossoms 'n' leaves will call to me, and most certainly the bee balms.

Plus I'll be looking for and harvesting other buds, blooms and blossoms, as floral Medicine has been calling to me again 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, yet 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. 🕊

A version of this entry was originally posted July 9, 2019 at When Weeds Whisper.

Beautiful Calendula officinalis

 “The Marigold that goes to bed with the sun, 
And with him rises weeping.” 
- William Shakespeare, from Winter’s Tale. 
 
 
Meet Calendula officinalis – Calendula, Pot Marigold, Marigold
 
The beautiful genus of Calendula represents some 20 'r so herbaceous perennial species (annual in our region) of lovely flowering plants in the Asteraceae family. It’s considered native to western Europe, southern Asia, Macaronesia, Egypt, Iran, and the Mediterranean, yet it’s been cultivated for so long around the globe that its exact origin is a lovely mystery. Yet given what we know about the origins of life on earth, I’m betting on Egypt, or Macaronesia, of those named above.
 
The genus, Calendula, is born of the Latin calendae, meaning the first, first day of the month, little calendar, or little clock.
 
Calendula officinalis is an easy-to-grow plant that will reach more than 2 feet in a favorable environment (if it doesn’t flop over first). It's described as having sparsely branched lax or erect stems, and indeed, offers both characteristics. The leaves grow from 3 to 7 inches and are oblong-lanceolate, hairy on both sides. And they're sticky too, the leaves and the flowers.
 
The daisy-like flowers are yellow to golden orange, some with variegated petals offering lovely variations of these warm colors. The flowers are surrounded by two rows of hairy bracts, with peripheral female ray florets surrounding the central disc florets which are tubular and hermaphrodite and a more intense golden color than the female ray florets. The flowers bloom all summer and into autumn and mild winters in our southern New England region and produces a fruit that is thorny and curved.
 
Calendula grows easily and generously in full sun in most any soil. While I do collect seed from the most robust plants, others go to seed where they're rooted, and - with appreciation - reseed and propagate themselves generously. 
 

Family: Asteraceae

Harvest: Aerial parts – buds and blooms from summer to winter, seeds in autumn to winter, or whenever you allow the flowers to mature to seed. Leaves, anytime. And like so many flowering annuals, the more you trim the buds and flowers for harvest, the more buds and flowers the plant will offer.

Taste: bitter and pungent.

 

Humors & Energetic: Warm 'n' Dry. Gently stimulating.

 

Actions: Anti-inflammatory/inflammatory-modulating (esp: skin 'n' mucosa), antimicrobial, antispasmodic, aromatic, astringent, cholagogue, emmenagogue, demulcent, diaphoretic, hepatic, immune-modulating, lymphatic/lymphagogue, vulnerary.

 

Constituents: alkaloids, antioxidants, bitters, calendic acid, chlorogenic acid, flavonoids, glycosides, resin, sterols, triterpenes (calendulosides A-D), volatile oil and more.

 

Contraindications: Potential allergic reactions, like so many of the Asteraceae family.

 

Chakra Association: Solar Plexus (your mileage may vary).

Uses: 

 

This plant has a long history of generosity as a Food, as internal and external Medicine, as dye (for food, hair, fiber), and as a ceremonial botanical. It’s challenging to gauge where to start…

I mean… Maude Grieve makes mention in The Modern Herbal of benefits to the heart, ulcers, eyesight and sore eyes, to varicose veins, jaundice, bee stings, sprains, and wounds, to clearing skin eruptions and head mucus, fevers, for use against the plague, for drawing out evil, as a dye, and, of course, as food. 

 

I suppose starting with my most frequent use might be a place to root this section…

Most every day, with the rarest of exceptions, an infused oil of calendula flowers makes it to my skin. I keep it the oil near the showers (indoors 'n' out) to use after showering. It's around me in that liquid oil form, as a soft salve, and as a a more solid balm. As an infused oil it a standard in my First Aid bag. I use it on fresh scuffs 'n' cuts, and healing wounds of every kind, and it’s often a base oil in my foot-rub balms. It’s almost always a part of my base oil for lip balm, and it frequently finds its way into my handmade soaps.

 

I most often describe infused oil of calendula (as well as tincture and water infusion) as promoting healthy tissue growth (vulnerary), while promoting the prevention of infection as well as scarring. I credit Calendula for having no signs of a facial burn, as it was part of a three-tier treatment starting with fresh aloe, then St. Joan and then Calendula. Others have sung its praises over the years for preventing scars, often surprisingly so.

 

Rosalee de la Forêt sites a study demonstrating its topical use being protective to the skin from radiation damage. 

 

Calendula finds its way into my facial 'n' respiratory steams, foot and body bath blends.

 

A dilute of the tincture is also one of my (many) herbal choices for a mouth rinse, to promote healthy gums. 

As an internal, in tincture form, I’ve mostly used it as a gentle lymphatic, after illness, especially when all or some of the symptoms are sticky and don’t fully clear, or when swelling is sticky in the lymph nodes. Calendula comes to mind 'n' heart whenever sticky conditions present.

I’ve also used the tincture in blends or in tiered protocols for nourishing 'n' toning the immune system, especially after long convalescences or antibiotic use. 

 

The tincture has a reputation for un-sticking a sticky menses. Henriette Kress credits Calendula with regulating menstruation and preventing crampy menses. 

 

David Hoffman has done clinical work that conveys historical/experiential evidence of its value in treating gastric and duodenal ulcers, and other digestive inflammatory conditions. He notes that it relieves gallbladder challenges as well as those “vague digestive complaints known as ‘indigestion.’” 

 

Matt Wood notes it as warming to a weak or atonic digestion, and I find it, in this light, to be something to enjoy as Food in its season and as tea throughout the cooler months, as it will offer its tonic/toning verve to our digestive system from teeth/gums to evacuation… for it adds sunshine to the darkest places.

And I do find drop doses of the tincture added to waters or teas in deep winter to calm my anxiousness, perk me up and lift my spirits. It’s another herb that I refer to as liquid sunshine. As a tea I find it to be quite calming and quieting without making me drowsy. In this moody light (or darkness, as the case may be), I might add that Matt Wood has referred to Calendula and “industrial strength chamomile,” which is memorable phrasing worthy of recall. ::nods::

 

But mostly, for me, it finds its way into many a tea blend, which, like Food, is – indeed – a daily ritual…

 

As a Food, I've seen it referenced as “poor man’s saffron,” the flower petals being used to color cheeses, soups, and more.

For years I’ve added the petals to batters to make “confetti” muffins, pancakes and cookies. I don’t remember where I first heard the term, but I love it. 

 

In winter, I sometimes add the dried flower to soup stocks, and the petals to finished soups to rehydrate as a summery sunshine garnish.

 

The petals often find themselves added to summer salads of every kind. The flowers make a lovely garnish floating atop most any beverage, and I sometimes add them to my cold-water infusions along with mints, elder flowers, currant leaves and others.

 

Lastly, Lisa Estabrook relays Calendula this way, in her Soulflower Plant Spirit Oracle Deck:
“Calendula – Communication

Our thoughts and words have great creative power, both positive and negative, for ourselves and others. Calendula helps soothe your thoughts and words with warmth and compassion and understanding so that there is a balance between assertiveness and receptiveness in communication with others.”

  

Dance with the Calendula officinalis – Calendula.

 

I love adding fresh petals to all sorts of batters and the like: Pancakes, muffins, sweet breads, plain cookies, cornbread, hominy, polenta, and so on – use your imagination to add color 'n' other benefits to your homemade foods.

 

Blend the petals into soft cheeses.

 

Pluck the flower petals to add to salads or use as a garnish for many summertime dishes – be it vegetable, fruit, grain, or meat.

 

Need I mention Calendula Tea?

I know, it goes without saying… but this flower tea plays so nice with other herbs and makes a nice base or addition for many a tea blend, be it cool 'n' minty, or warm 'n' spicy. 

 

The tea or long-brew infusion may be added to soups, stews and other simmers, so consider an infusion as a soup stock base or partial base.

 

Plus, Calendula infusion makes a wonderful wash, compress, or addition to baths and soaks.

 

The leaves of Calendula have a history as Food, cooked alone as a green, added to soups, yet it's not a favored flavor of mine. I prefer the petals, but your pallet may disagree. 

 

If you imbibe, make a Calendula Infused Brandy!

Simply macerate some flowers in brandy for 4-8 weeks, strain and enJOY a sip of liquid sunshine. Sweeten it with honey for an elixir, or with cane sugar for a cordial. And, frankly, vodka is quite nice too, so make a big batch of vodka-based tincture and leave some as is, sweeten some with honey, and sweeten some with cane sugar, maple sugar to enJOY as a nice reward for efficient multi-tasking.

 

Elderberry Calendula Cold and Flu Elixir Recipe

source: theherbalacademy.com

 

1 cup fresh (or 2/3 cup dried) calendula flowers
2/3 cup dried elderberries
1/2 cup fresh (or 1/3 cup dried) elderflowers
1/2 cup fresh (or 1/3 cup dried) rose hips
2 tablespoons fresh (or 1 tablespoon dried) orange peel
1 tablespoons fresh (or 1 teaspoon dried) ginger
Brandy
Honey

1. Fill a clean, sterilized quart jar (4 cup capacity) with herbs.
2. Add brandy, pouring until herbs covered by 1-2 inches of brandy and jar is approximately 3/4 full.
3. Add honey, leaving 1 inch of space at the top of the jar.
4. Poke chopstick into jar to release any trapped air bubbles and ensure brandy and   honey are coating herbs.
5. Put cap on and label jar with ingredients and date.
6. Let steep for 4-6 weeks in a cool, dark place, shaking daily.
7. Filter elixir by pouring through a fine mesh filter or several layers of cheesecloth   over a bowl or wide-mouth jar. Press the marc (plant material) to squeeze out   every last drop of elixir.
8. Compost the marc and cap and label the elixir.

 

What else might you be inspired to do with lovely Calendula?

 

Here’s my old Herb of the Month list of many of the ways you might honor and leverage the gifts of this generous botanical. Add to it, and share your experiences with others.

                                                

·      tea

·      tincture

·      liniment

·      salves/balms

·      eyewash

·      neti pot addition

·      infused vinegar

·      infused oil

·      soap

·      leaves and flowers in a green powder

·      compress 

·      poultice

·      eye wash

·      baths, soaks, sitz baths

·      sugar scrub

·      salt scrub

·      syrup

·      jelly

·      hard candy

·      infused honey

·      water color paint

·      steams

·      spiritual baths and healing ceremonies

resources:

• David Hoffman, Medical Herbalism
• Green Dean, Eat the Weeds
• Henriette Kress, Practical Herbs 1 & 2 & Henriette’s Herbal Homepage
• Matthew Wood, The Book of Herbal Wisdom & The Earthwise Herbal Repertory
• Maude Grieve, A Modern Herbal
• Rosalee de la Forêt, Herbs with Rosalee
• Wikipedia – for some of the botanical bits
• Personal notes from multiple sources
• Personal experience

This post represents and encompasses much of the material presented over decades of teaching.

Peace. 🕊