Am very grateful that these last few days of the summer season have shown some sustained improvement with my stamina levels. I've been able to spend some very enjoyable time in a few favorite spots: along the Charles River, at the local bird sanctuary and gathering herbs in my own sweet garden beds. Tomorrow, with an equal balance of light and dark hours, may serve a personal recalibration day. Will be back soon with some images from my wanderings because I took plenty of pictures ...
It's always interesting to keep track of the ways my written journal reflects its cover. Usually I have something specific in mind when making a book selection. This time I was thinking about moving forward and the ways this process enables us to go through passageways and portals - of time, experience and conscious growth.
This morning I realized how much of what I've been writing relates to acknowledging doors I've deliberately shut. Some have been sealed for a long time and now I must retrace my steps in order to open them once more. Some I ignored; as if they didn't exist and the choices they contained weren't mine to make. A few didn't interest me enough to notice their existence. Some doors belonged to other people and I could only stand on the outside pushing envelopes through the letter slot - metaphorically or otherwise.
The journal pictured above is relatively new but my general writing methodology is very well established. The process reminds me of keeping a garden. Over time I've found many parallels between various journal volumes and individual, always unique, growing seasons. Advance planning frequently reaches a tipping point where organic life force asserts itself; trumping construction and blurring the edges of specific intentions...
For the past ten days Celeste has been a little heartbroken and super-watchful. It's because Jim was road-tripping it to Florida for a long overdue visit with his mom. This morning he arrived back home. Naturally the cat is now acting as if she couldn't care less and didn't pine for him intensely while he was gone. This might not make emotional sense from a human point of view but it's absolutely classic feline psychology.
When he first got in I was still three quarters of the way asleep but I still caught the jubilation in his voice as he announced himself. I am very glad he took this particular vacation, and fully delighted that he enjoyed the trip, but I'm even happier he's back home. Life in the household just doesn't seem like it's fully itself without his swingin' bass laying the groove of our ongoing soundtrack.
The seasonal shifts that have been transpiring are making a vivid impression on him. I am a gold-lit summer girl and so I don't always enjoy peoples' variety of fixations for pushing summer away and focusing on autumn's arrival. It doesn't make sense to take this sort of differing preference personally - any more than it makes sense for the cat to ignore someone she missed so dreadfully. Yet at times I do find it a personal trial.
From my perspective it seems no sooner has the sun peaked on the summer solstice than various people start bringing up 'the return to darkness'. This year I was determined not to have that kind of discourse bother me and equally determined not to feel disturbed once summer reached a point of putting itself to sleep. I thought I didn't need to keep making it my business if anyone else fancied the choice to leapfrog ahead. They could do that without a scrim of my barely controlled disapproval. And I could root myself in the now-ness of each passing moment during my favorite season of the year. For the most part this intentional live-and-live endeavor has worked quite well.
I am not sad this year so much as wistful. Several plans or the simple ideas for plans needed to be tweaked or outright canceled due to my assortment of physical concerns. For two days before Jim left our main topics of conversation revolved around his itinerary planning and how sorry for myself I felt about the fact that it would be a solo mission for him. He kept trying to help me feel better about it all. I kept insisting it was good for me to let myself express the sorrow rather than keeping my distance from such a significant part of the overall recuperative process.
While he was gone I spent a fair amount of time somewhat lost in the process of emotional recalibration. Once I got rid of my accumulated sorrow and frustration it was time to take a more pleasant inventory of what has happened for & through me during this passing season. Sifting through the details of that inventory has felt like an authentic blessing.
Plus even I, with my unabashed fantasies of living in an Endless Summer, find something undeniably powerful and appealing about the burnished quality of light as it fades a bit earlier each day. As we ate dinner this evening Jim mentioned his acute awareness that the light's pattern across the daily timeframe has changed during his brief absence. It won't be too long before leaf peepers start appearing and the landscape is punctuated by the distinctive gold-green color that's the very heartbeat of autumn's arrival in new england.
I adore that color. It's part of the natural kingdom's seasonal statement that I authentically relish. But in stoking my anticipation I'm getting a few weeks ahead of the organic order of things. For now it's still summer at least at the technical level. This is a time of preparation: a mini-season of making one last enormous batch of pesto sauce, picking some final sumptuous flower bouquets and assembling the culinary incidentals that lend themselves to pumpkin risotto and slow roasted root vegetable medleys...
Lately I've been living the truth of things changing radically while also remaining the same. An example: flower essences and all manner of co-creative process have once again become the primary themes in my daily world and professional life. Somewhere in the midst of this rainy unusual summer I have found the bulk of my e-mail and snail mail correspondence relating to essences; it's kind of like the Old Days when I was working on the Handbook and thinking or writing about flower healing potentiality 'round the clock more days than not. There's a lovely home-coming sensibility to this particular shift and I perceive it informing all the other changes and mainstay points of focus.
Very familiar subjects/life interests can look quite different at times. Especially when we take a step back from our best known pathways and approach the same end results or topical overviews from different angles. Maybe we uncover trail markers left in an earlier time. Perhaps we ourselves made the markers; maybe they were left by those who have proven to be of lasting influence and inspiration.
In the past month I've been quite busy. It's proven to be an intensely industrious span of activity rather than simply busy-making for its own sake. There have been no clear cut plans fueling things so much as a continuous unfolding of circumstance & opportunity. A couple of things I did [attempt to] plan have dropped by the wayside including a backlog of draft-level posts I still want to publish on this blog. It's all moved from the ongoing aspiration of tomorrow or the next day to whenever that actually happens.
This morning I took some time away from this desk so I could begin excavating the main garden beds. Everything has grown to monumental proportions thanks to all the rain we've been having. I find it hard to know where to begin and equally difficult to decide when it's time to stop. The wheelbarrow helps me gauge how much energy I ought to expend at any given time. Once it's full I move on to something less strenuous, at least for little while...
I brought my camera on today's walk over to the post office. Needed to get some images of a particular medicinal herb and, along the way, I took pictures of the seeding Queen Anne's Lace. The one above will be my screen saver for the next few weeks; reminding me that some activities are not just a means to their own end. They also set the seeds for a future growing season I can only imagine in the haziest sense from this here-and-now vantage point.
Yesterday Jim and I enjoyed the rare sunlight with a bit of day tripping. It's always nice to spend some time with the Charles River ...
Wandering with just the barest outline of a plan is fun for us. Over the years I think we've most successfully learned how to merge our compatibilities and differences by taking time away from our normally scheduled programs. Being together in an out-of-daily context becomes the context. And that's both liberating and coalescent.
We took our time standing on the footbridge that crosses Newton Lower Falls. The water's activity level was a great prompt for meditation.
On our way home we stopped for some ice cream.
Jim had a banana split and I had raspberry sherbet.
The highly satisfying centerpiece of our afternoon was a visit to the De Cordova museum in Lincoln.
I've shared some details about the exhibit we saw, and images from the sculpture park, over at nichobella. Today I am fairly tired from all the activity but also quite well-satiated and ready to percolate with Unknown results of fresh visual and psychic input ...
As is typical of summer's midpoint the form and texture of the garden is drastically changed. For the past few days we've had sun for several hours and most of the rain has been coming at night. I feel like my life is mirroring the same sort of extreme weather patterns and intensive hyper-growth. At this point I have two other posts in draft mode but they both need more attention before they're ready for posting.
I've been involved with so many different things in the past week that it's really difficult to summarize. A lot of attention has needed to go to SLI concerns. There has been an explosion of orders for flower essences. I usually order dropper bottles etc. every quarter year. Each time I get roughly twice as many bottles as I think I will need. Last week I had to place an 'emergency' order to keep pace with the output. So it's been dizzying especially since I was re-routing some orders during the period of time when I was unwell and felt this left me too energetically unbalanced to handle the mother stocks or any flower essences that weren't meant strictly for my own use.
It would seem I got healthy just in time! In the midst of the flurrying activity I felt it wise to do a bit of updating on my website. If you haven't visited in a while, you may want to take a look.
Some weeks back I prepared a key lime flower essence. Lime remedies are wonderful cleansers - just like the rest of the citrus family. Key lime has a special affinity for helping us to make wise choices and important decisions that will showcase and invigorate our personal strong suits and most significant healing powers. I have been working with this essence personally for the past week or so and I really love it. Lime essences are super-restorative and they do wonders for the the secondary heart and hand chakras as well as eye-hand-heart coordination.
My key lime plant has set fruit as well as a fresh flush of blooms. I am so besotted by these developments that it isn't even funny. Most days I try to take at least five or ten minutes to just sit quietly with this plant. It's worth the effort even though "quiet" and my garden are something of a contradiction of terms at the moment. I am really hoping I will have a chance to get some tidying chores done over the next couple of days. Taking some concentrated creative time in my work room is also super-important to me.
Amidst the general acceleration of orders there's been a run on the gardenia ray panacea. It's right in line with a new flush of gardenia buds. This is another plant that I try to sit with as often as possible. I have two fortuniana bushes that have been with me since they were only two sprigs in tiny pots from Logees.
As many readers know I prepare each flower essence on a per-order basis. It's not the most efficient system but I believe it is the most potentizing for the essences, my overall relationship with the attendant plant medicine spirits, and an individual connection-link for recipients of the remedies. When I was preparing the first panacea synergy in the run I noticed that the comfrey essence has been compromised. I decided to switch it out with a simple triad blend that contains feverfew and prunella as well as comfrey.
Over the weekend, when the sun finally broke through, I was able to prepare a new comfrey essence. It was an unexpected opportunity; I had just finished explaining to several customers that I had no idea when I'd be able to do this so I'd been making the Triage Trio substitution in the panacea synergy's recipe. My surprise at the unexpected opportunity to co-create with the comfrey flowers was underlined by a flair of appreciation for the garden spirits' sense of humor. It never fails even when mine temporarily takes a long walk off a short peer...
note: see asterik* at the end of this post for ideas of how lemon balm tincture may be employed.
This morning I was all caught up with finding a specific fabric in the cedar closet. Then I was busy writing in my journal about the other things I hope to accomplish today. Finally I got outside to harvest lemon balm for tincture-making. Time was of the essence because (a) the plant is starting to set the earliest form of flower buds and I don't like to mess much with growing things while they are in their active flowering process and (b) it looked & felt like it would rain any minute.
Over the winter I read a recipe from Susun Weed that called for three consecutive infusions of lemon balm leaves. Can't recall the source right now and do not have extra time or energy for searching so I'll have to publish an addendum at some indeterminate future time. But I do recall the gist of the instructions. I hoped to make a triple blend this year but fear I didn't get to it early enough in the season. So this will probably wind up being just two consecutive infusions.
Given the rain-filled storm clouds overhead, I harvested the herb before walking down to the package store for some 100% vodka. Then I returned to strip the leaves from the stems. This is a very pleasant way to spend time; I like to take my time and let the occasion bring me in that much greater mindful appreciation of the plant medicine spirit.
Susun offered a rather whimsical way of judging how much plant material to use. She likens it to building a fairy mattress:- pack a jar too loosely and the fairy will fall through the empty spaces BUT pack too firmly and the fairy will not be able to rest. I remember this detail of the recipe quite clearly.
Having made innumerable tinctures over the years I am aware that a wide-mouthed pint canning jar will yield a generous year's worth of healing medicine for my family and first circle of friends. Quite awhile back I posted a mini tutorial on tincture preparation. Today I couldn't put my hands on a wooden chopstick or bamboo skewer that hasn't been used to stir or mix paint. So I substituted the plastic end of a barbecue fork to ease-out air bubbles once the jar was filled with vodka.
The picture above illustrates how crucial it is to get rid of the air in the jar. Can you see how much extra room developed? All that space needs to be filled to the brim with more vodka. To ease-out the bubbles I begin by gently pressing down in the center of the plant material. Then I very carefully and gently press down around the edges of the jar. It takes a few complete circlings of the edges to release all the air. Following the first complete circle I very gently rock the mini-masher while I'm turning the jar. The additional agitation releases lots more air bubbles.
NOTE: If you have a blender you can prepare your maceration by filling the jar with herbs and vodka. Dump the mixture in the blender and process on "chop". Pour the results back into the bottle. There won't be much air to release but take a few gentle stirs until the mixture is quiet and bubble free. Then add vodka to the brim. I killed my blender processing elecampane roots and haven't yet replaced it so, until I do, this season's tinctures are coming to life in a low-tech way.
Since the mashing process compacts the bottom levels of plant matter, I invert the bottle for a week or so in order to distribute the contents more evenly. In a perfect world macerating tinctures should be shaken vigorously on a daily basis. In reality you can simply do this whenever you happen to remember the task. I recommend placing the bottles - out of direct sunlight, please - in very plain sight (if you have room upon any sort of healing altar, that would makes an ideal home for this project-in-progress) so that it's easier to remember to shake them. Six to eight weeks after you begin this process, double strain the infusion through unbleached coffee filters and pour into dropper bottles. LABEL the bottles. I include the name (common and botanical) of the tincture, the year it was prepared, and a few keywords that indicate how it might be used.
Back at the general making stage of things be sure to label all macerations with the name of the tincture and when you began the infusion process. I also like to add the sun and moon sign of the herbal harvest. Additionally I make a notation on the family's wall calendar on the date when the infusion is ready to be strained. And I keep all information (starting and straining dates) recorded in a personal datebook that's devoted to my various healing endeavors.
As time passes I find these datebooks to be invaluable reference tools. I keep a record of all flower essence preparations as well as tincture and oil infusions. I like using the We'Moon datebook for this purpose because the daily calendar contains a wealth of astrological data, including very precise lunar information.
* Lemon balm is a sedative so I always advise adding just a few drops to a juice glass of water. Although it's a very mild sedative it's best to see how the property interacts with your body before increasing the dosage one drop at a time.
The tincture may be helpful for insomnia. It's also wonderful for any occasion of high-stress and overwork; I know people who keep half ounce dropper bottles in their day pack, by the phone, and at the computer.
The plant also has anti-depressant qualities which make it useful for sadness - especially the kind that comes from Seasonal Affect Disorder. Classically, the tincture (or tea) is advised for relief from flu symptoms. As a digestive aid I have found lemon balm particularly nice for the sense of uncomfortable bloating than can follow a rich meal holding a higher far content than one's regular diet.
Lemon balm is also anti-bacterial and anti-fungal. It's nice to add a few drops to water (add a drop or two of lavender bud tincture, too, if you've got it...) that's meant as a mouth rinse. I also like to add it to rinsing water following a pedicure. If your arms and legs have gotten scratched-up from working in the garden or walking in woods or fields, take a small bowl of water laced with a few drops of the tincture into your bath or shower. Dip your washcloth in the bowl and run it gently over the scrapes and scratches as an initial cleansing process. Use any remaining liquid as a final rinse.
This picture was taken on Sunday morning to document the out-of-control quality of the rainy garden. Since then there's been more sun than rain. And I am feeling well enough to get out there for at least a few minutes of task mastering each day. Have been focused mainly on cutting back some of the herbs before they come into flower. Anise hyssop and lemon balm have received the most attention from me. Both leaves make nice teas.
Lemon balm is a wonderfully soothing digestive aid that can be a special friend to those with thyroid imbalances. Many of my herb-savvy friends sent me articles about this ally while I was dealing with the most overt symptoms of Graves Disease. While the plant holds strong affinity for over active thyroid issues it can also punch-up an under-functioning gland as well. The herb also holds mild sedative and anti-depressant properties. It's extremely easy to grow - falling into the invasive plant category for many gardeners. I don't mind how much the plant expands because I adore its energy.
Anise hyssop is nice for sinus congestion. The plant has a warming property that makes it especially good for chilly days throughout the fall season. I have also been harvesting spearmint. This is one of my favorite simple remedies for a host of common ailments. It's a very good digestive aid; not as harsh as peppermint so that makes it a good and solid choice for the whole family.
Each year I make fresh tincture from the leaves. This is good for a "quick" digestive aid especially at times when brewing up a cup of tea simply isn't practical. You can keep a small dropper bottle of tincture on ready hand in the medicine cabinet and a purse or backpack. The remedy will also come in handy for headaches. Try this if you are traveling and stuck in a hermetically sealed room with stale air: Moisten a washcloth with hot water . Place a few drops of the tincture on the side of the washcloth that will not lay directly against your face. Lay the cloth against your forehead and relax for 10-20 minutes.
note: this kind of refreshment may be especially helpful when you are cutting back on caffeine or getting rid of it altogether.
My latest round of health concerns has given me plenty of time to think about ways I might enhance and refine my general quality of life. And, also, to re-visit my core priorities. After awhile I think we get so accustomed to that core that we don't necessarily question whether or not decisions we've made in the past tense still serve us as well as we need to be served by our own choice-making process.
For the past week I have been watching the white climbing roses pictured above coming into bloom just beyond my desk window. I have spent the time I've been at my desk working on a writing project that will need a lot more energy and focus to reach a publishable form. It has seemed as if the climbing roses have been talking to me about the ways I'll need to make shifts in order to reach my goals in way that will be effective as well as satisfying.
Well. On the other hand it nearly always seems as if some flowering plant or another is talking to me ...
I was delighted to see some sunlight today. It's become something of a unique experience in these parts! Am still a bit under the weather but have started to come around; my online absence was caused by a bacterial infection that's been quite uncomfortable and a little scary. Over the past five days I've spun myself a healing cocoon that's been well-buffered by family, some good books, and the garden.
Everything smells so wonderful right now. There are innumerable roses in bloom, the tail end of the mock oranges, and garden heliotrope a/k/a valerian.
In the early afternoon Celeste and I had a fine time exploring a variety of overgrown details. The abundance of rain has led to growth so lush it may take me some time to create order in the beds. But I do admit to having a preference for ragged edges and a good measure of wildness so it's all well when it zens. Right now the main pathways are little more than game trails. It's a very good place to disappear within the landscape and enjoy a closer look at the proliferation of the green nations.
Many of the plants are getting a bit leggy from the lack of sunlight. The sweet fennel is already taller than I am and the goldenrod and globe thistles are at eye level.
The Spirea japonica bush has just begun to bloom. I pruned it fairly severely in mid-spring but that has only encouraged such bounteous growth that I'm in a bit of shock. Must get an overhead shot from my bedroom window so you can see what I mean.
Tomorrow is my birthday. I hope the sun will make another appearance for at least part of the day. Most of our family celebrations hold a strong focus on special meals and visits to extra-favorite locations. Plus birthdays always mean cake. This year I'll need a postponement on these staples of how we roll. Am far too week for a trip to the beach or even Snow Pond and still don't have much of an appetite. But I'm definitely in a good mood and have every expectation that I'll continue to recuperate at a steady pace. Will try to resume blog visiting on Wednesday...
It's been chilly and rain-soaked here in the northeast. Yesterday afternoon the Thunder Beings rolled through and subsequent cloudbursts seemed to have an extra bit of cleansing power to them. When the sun came out at noon today I dropped what I was doing in order to inspect the garden with camera in hand.
For the better part of a week this entire town has been edged with the scent of wild roses. Now more domesticated forms are coming into bloom within the garden beds. I have periodically considered blog posts I might make: life-changing adventures and invigorating day trips I could describe, books I've read and enjoyed enough to share some details, the usual cocaphony of thoughts and opinions...yet now, having gotten as far as actually calling up the typepad program, I find myself back where I so often begin with glimpses of the garden as she grows.
This year the self-sown milkweed in the front yard has formed a rough circle that Jim dubbed Stonehenge. Yesterday I moved between the raindrops to start setting some of the houseplants within the milkweed's protective embrace. It's been cold enough to procrastinate this yearly chore but finally the time seems ripe. At this point I have only the heaviest pots to move outside and will need to help to get that accomplished.
Gauging the number of buds and the stage of their development would indicate we'll have plenty of yellow roses for our summer solstice altar. Am planning to make a new sun-colored cloth as well.
A prolific crop of gooseberries is ripening. The meadow rue has grown to eye level this year ...
The last of the Siberian iris have bloomed today. This plant has really enjoyed the wet spring and it's been nice to have an extra-big flush of blooms at the back edge of the main bed.
Out in the front yard I recently discovered that Sweet William dianthus cross-bred with Rainbow Loveliness. These flowers are SUPER fragrant and richly evocative in their scent. I will be glad to save the seeds and see if they produce the same cross-strain or revert to type. In the meantime I will undoubtedly savor every bloom from the half a dozen plants that have sprung up in a very inconvenient location from a lawn grooming perspective. Fortunately such things are not of primary concern to anyone in this household. Much to certain neighbors' chagrin but them's the breaks...
