China Bayles' Book of Days

by Susan Wittig Albert

  But it was in nineteenth-century England where the romantic, ingenious, and secret “language of flowers” became most popular, and “floral dictionaries” were all the rage. Women and men who wanted to be successful in society were expected to know that a sprig of balsam meant “I am impatient,” while an ox-eye daisy blossom meant, “I’ll wait forever.” They also had to know that if a flower was presented upside-down, its original meaning was contradicted, and that “Yes”—ah, the mystery and promise of that word!—was implied by touching the flower to the lips.

  Throughout the China Bayles Mysteries, I often use the language of flowers to add depth and significance to the story. In Lavender Lies, for instance, China comments that dyer’s bugloss (Anchusa tinctoria) was used as a rouge, which (in a time when women did not “paint”) gave the plant the meaning of untrustworthiness. In Rueful Death, the herb rue often stands (as it does in Shakespeare) for ruth: pity, compassion, mercy, as well as for repentance and remorse.

  SOME FLORAL MEANINGS

  • catnip: I am intoxicated with love.

  • clover: You are lucky.

  • dandelion: I find your presumptions laughable.

  • honeysuckle: I would not answer hastily.

  • Jacob’s ladder: Come down off your pedestal!

  Learn about the language of flowers:

  Flora’s Dictionary, by Kathleen Gips

  JANUARY 4

  Today is the tenth day of Christmas, and in Celtic tradition, the end of the solstice celebration. The twelve days of Christmas begin on Christmas Day and end on January 6, Epiphany.

  We had a great cake made, in which was put a bean for the King, a pease for the Queen, a clove for the Knave, a forked stick for the Cuckold, a rag for the Slut.

  —HENRY TEONGE, 1676

  Twelfth-Night Cake

  In most English and European households, the Twelfth-Night Cake was baked a day or two ahead of the merry celebration that concluded the holiday season. This eighteenth-century recipe will give you an idea of the work involved. Cakes like these were mostly baked in the kitchens of the gentry. Villagers (most had no ovens) usually made their cakes as puddings, which were boiled in a pot hung over the fire.

  TO MAKE A TWELFTH-NIGHT CAKE

  Put two pounds of butter in a warm pan and work it to a cream with your hand; then put in two pounds of loaf sugar sifted; a large nutmeg grated; and of cinnamon ground, allspice ground, ginger, mace and coriander each a quarter ounce. Now break in eighteen eggs by one and one, meantime beating it for twenty minutes or above; stir in a gill of brandy; then add two pounds of sifted flour, and work it a little. Next put in currants four pounds, chopped almonds half a pound; citron the like; and orange and lemon peel cut small half a pound. Put in one bean and one pea in separate places, bake it in a slow oven for four hours, and ice it or decorate it as you will.

  —ELIZABETH RAFFALD, THE EXPERIENCED ENGLISH

  HOUSEKEEPER, 1769

  THE TWELFTH-NIGHT BEAN

  The tradition of the bean and pea came from medieval France, where, if you got the bean, you were crowned King of the Bean and everyone had to do as you directed. It’s said that Mary Queen of Scots brought the custom to England, and added the pea. Whoever got the pea shared the throne with the king. Other items might also be hidden in the cake: If you got a clove, you were a rogue; if a twig, you’d best look to your spouse’s virtue; if a bit of rag, your morals might be in question.

  EASY TWELFTH-NIGHT CAKE

  If you don’t have time to bake a traditional Twelfth-Night cake with 18 eggs and a gill of brandy, buy a fruitcake, insert whatever items you choose, and frost it to conceal your skullduggery. Wreathe your cake with rosemary and bay, traditional decorations.

  JANUARY 5

  Today is Twelfth Night Eve, when the last Yule fire was traditionally lit.

  Beware of an oak,

  It draws the stroke,

  Avoid an ash,

  It courts a flash,

  Creep under the thorn,

  It will save you from harm.

  —TRADITIONAL ENGLISH FOLK SAYING

  The Mysterious Thorn of Glastonbury

  The mystery began on Twelfth Night in 1535, when somebody noticed that the hawthorn tree (Crataegus monogyna) in front of St. John the Baptist Church was blooming—in the chilly depths of winter. Thomas Cromwell, adviser to Henry VIII, dispatched a sleuth to investigate this miraculous phenomenon. The physical evidence (two blossoms) was sent to London, beginning the custom of sending the January blooms of the Glastonbury hawthorn to the monarch. Charles I put a stop to the custom, but Queen Mary revived it in 1922, agreeing to accept a blossom whenever the Holy Thorn lived up to its reputation.

  The hawthorn has long been a mysterious plant. The Greeks and Romans associated it with marriage, fertility, and protection from evil; Greek brides and grooms wore hawthorn blossoms; and Roman parents placed hawthorn leaves in cradles to ward off evil spirits. In Europe, it was believed that hawthorn would protect you from lightning. However, hawthorn’s fortunes took a turn for the worse in early Christianity, for the crown of thorns was reputed to have been made of hawthorn. Carrying hawthorn blossoms into the house was said to bring bad luck, and the tree became associated with disease and death.

  Hawthorn holds another intriguing mystery: its long-recognized value as a gentle, effective herbal protection for the heart. The ancient belief that hawthorn promotes cardiac health has been confirmed by researchers who tell us that hawthorn can help to normalize blood pressure, reduce the heart rate, and promote oxygen uptake.

  HAWTHORN TEA

  Use 2 teaspoons of dried, crushed fruits per cup of boiling water. Steep 20 minutes. Drink up to 2 cups a day. In this therapeutic dosage, hawthorn is said to be safe for long-term use, and no toxic effects have been noted. (Pregnant women should not use it, however.)

  Read more about hawthorn as a healing herb:

  The Healing Herbs, by Michael Castleman

  A Gard’ner’s work is never at an end, It begins with the year, and continues to the next.

  —JOHN EVELYN, 1620-1706

  JANUARY 6

  Stand fast root, bear well top,

  God send us a howling sop [bread dipped in wine]

  Every twig, apple big.

  Every bough, apples enow.

  Hats full, caps full,

  Full quarter sacks full.

  —TRADITIONAL HOWLING CHARM

  Apple Howlings

  If you have an apple tree, Twelfth Day is the day to celebrate it. In England, people went into the orchards on this day, to toast the trees and bless them with last year’s cider. When the celebrations got a little rowdy (they usually did), they were known as apple howlings, or “youlings.” If you plan a rowdy howling around your apple tree, you might want to invite the neighbors to join in. Serve apple cider and warm apple-spice nut bars with ice cream.

  APPLE-SPICE NUT BARS

  3 eggs

  1½ cups sugar

  1 teaspoon vanilla

  1½ cups flour

  1 teaspoon cinnamon

  ½ teaspoon nutmeg

  ¼ teaspoon cloves

  ½ teaspoon salt

  3 teaspoons baking powder

  3 cups apples, unpeeled, cored, finely chopped

  1½ cups walnuts, coarsely chopped

  Beat eggs until foamy; add sugar, beat until mixture is thick and lemon colored. Add vanilla. In a separate bowl, mix flour, spices, salt, and baking powder. Blend into egg mixture. Fold in chopped apples and walnuts. Turn into greased and floured 13 × 9-inch pan. Bake 30-40 minutes at 350° or until tester inserted in center comes out clean. Cut into squares. Serve warm with ice cream.

  Apples were believed to have powerful medicinal qualities. Some apple lore:

  • To keep colds away for a year, eat an apple at midnight on Halloween.

  • To keep up the strength, sniff an old sweet apple.

  • To remove warts, rub the warts with an apple and bury it. When it r
ots, the warts will disappear.

  • John Gerard, author of the famous Herbal of 1597, recommended a cosmetic salve to keep the skin soft and supple: apple pulp, lard, and rosewater. Known as pomatum, it was popular well into the nineteenth century.

  Apples are high in antioxidants, flavonoids, phytonutrients, and fiber, a potent good-health package.

  JANUARY 7

  January’s theme garden: a Petting Garden.

  Laurel’s sister Willow and I put in many long hours this spring transforming the entire yard, from Crockett Street back to the alley, into a collection of theme gardens: a silver garden, a tea garden, a butterfly garden, a dyers’ garden, a kitchen garden. The work won’t be done for a few more months—probably never, actually, since herb gardens have a way of inviting you to do just a little more here and a little more there.

  • ROSEMARY REMEMBERED: A CHINA BAYLES MYSTERY

  Theme Gardens

  China and her friends take great pleasure in the theme gardens she has planted around her shop. It’s fun to define an area of the garden by dedicating it to a theme: to an historical period, for instance (a Civil War garden); to a literary figure (Shakespeare, Chaucer); to a craft (a garden of pressed plants); to the Bible; to butterflies; or to specific types and kinds of plants. January’s theme garden is an indoor petting garden that’s fun for both adults and children.

  A PETTING GARDEN—AND MORE

  The sweet scents and pleasant breezes of summer are months away, but a wintertime windowsill collection of scented geraniums will buoy your spirits and keep your thumb green. These fragrant plants—strictly speaking, they are not geraniums but pelargoniums—come from South Africa, where a Dutch botanist found them in 1672. Their intriguing scents made them popular for Victorian potpourri.

  Scented geraniums invite us to touch, sniff, and pet. They come in a variety of fruit and citrus scents—rose, lemon, apple, lime, apricot, strawberry, coconut, peppermint, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, pineapple, orange, rose mint, and citronella—and will thrive with a half-day’s sunshine and regular watering. Move them outdoors for the summer, and back to your windowsill when frosts threaten.

  USING SCENTED GERANIUMS

  • Freshen a closet or drawer with dried lemon geranium leaves tucked into a muslin bag.

  • Scent a room with a potpourri of dried apple or lime geranium leaves.

  • Use fresh or dried leaves to flavor tea, jelly (especially blackberry and apple), custard, sugar, sorbet, and vinegar.

  • Toss the delicate edible flowers in a salad.

  • Use rose geranium leaves to make a liqueur.

  • Flavor cake by placing a leaf or two of rose geranium in the bottom of the pan and adding a teaspoon of rose water to the batter.

  Find out more about scented geraniums:

  Scented Geraniums: Knowing, Growing, and Enjoying Scented Pelargoniums, by Jim Becker

  JANUARY 8

  Today is National Bubble Bath Day.

  Ruby wrapped her arms around herself, shivering. “Are we going to stake the place out and wait until she comes home?”

  “On a night like this?” I put the key in the ignition and started the car. “Anyway, we were up at five this morning, and it’s been a long, hard day. I’d rather go home and make myself a hot toddy and fall into a bubble bath.”

  —MISTLETOE MAN: A CHINA BAYLES MYSTERY

  Bubble, Bubble

  There’s nothing nicer on a cold winter’s night (especially if you’ve been with China and Ruby on a stake-out) than a long, luxurious bubble bath. And since today is National Bubble Bath Day, it’s the perfect time to indulge.

  Make your own unscented herbal bubble bath, using skin-softening, nondrying ingredients such as castile soap (made from pure olive oil), coconut oil, and glycerin, all of which can be purchased at most large drugstores. Then choose a scent to fit your mood—a combination of scents, if you choose.

  SPIRIT-SOOTHING LAVENDER BUBBLE BATH

  In Lavender Lies, China includes these instructions for making a mild bubble bath. Grate one bar of castile soap into a quart of warm water. Mix well. To this liquid soap solution add 3 ounces of glycerin or coconut oil (either will make bubbles) and 2-4 drops lavender essential oil. Store in a glass or plastic container.

  OTHER HERBAL BUBBLE BATHS

  Using the same basic recipe, try these essential oils, alone or in a fragrant combination:

  • For a calming, soothing bath: lavender, rose, tangerine, sandalwood

  • For a warming, relaxing bath: clary sage, ylang ylang

  • For a refreshing, uplifting bath: rosemary, lemon, orange, bergamot

  Find out how to make many bodycare products:

  Making Natural Liquid Soaps: Herbal Shower Gels / Conditioning Shampoos / Moisturizing Hand Soaps, by Catherine Failor

  The garden is never dead; growth is always going on, and growth that can be seen, and seen with delight.

  —HENRY ELLACOMBE, IN MY VICARAGE GARDEN, 1902

  JANUARY 9

  Love of gardening is a seed that once sown never dies.

  —GERTRUDE JEKYLL

  All About the Myra Merryweather Herb Guild

  The herb guild, one of Pecan Springs’ most energetic organizations, was established by Myra Merryweather during the Depression, when people gardened, not just to feed their families but to keep their minds off the sad fact that they didn’t have a paying job. Myra was a woman of remarkable energies. She became interested in herbs on a visit to England, where she met the well-known herbalist Maud Grieve, the author of A Modern Herbal, and Gertrude Jekyll, who believed that the prettiest gardens were a medley of old-fashioned favorites, herbs, and native plants. Myra was so inspired that she came back to Pecan Springs, rolled up her sleeves, and started digging. Her neighbors, not to be outclassed, started digging, too. Before you could say Salvia officinalis, they had formed an herb guild. When Myra died, she left her historic house to the Guild.

  Everybody in Pecan Springs would agree that the Merryweathers have contributed to the little town’s unique charm. There’s the Joe Pye Memorial Knot Garden, for instance, created in honor of the town’s veterans, and the semi-annual Herb Bazaar and PassAlong Plant Sale in the parking lot of the First Baptist Church, a slam-bang event whose proceeds recently furnished the Laverne Scurry Conversation Lounge at the Colonial Nursing Home. In appreciation, the Chamber of Commerce awarded the Merryweathers the Hilda Bonger Golden Trowel. Guild President Pansy Pride received loud applause when she said in her acceptance speech that the guild “stirs a pinch of savory, a potpourri of thymely delights, and a bushel of herbal joys into the melting pot of our fair city.”

  China Bayles, chair of the garden committee, extends an invitation to visit the Guild’s gardens. While you’re there, you can also admire the concrete armadillo recently donated by guild member Harold Thompson. Everyone who sees it is amazed. China reports that a subcommittee has been formed to investigate suitable locations for displaying Harold’s generous gift. (Harold is now at work on a very large tumbleweed made of coat hangers.)

  The guild is also at work. They are compiling a new book, Happy Thymes: A Calendula of Herbal Dillies. I am pleased to say that the guild has given their generous permission to print several items from this forthcoming publication in these pages. Thank you, Merryweathers!

  Read China’s story about an unfortunate incident at the Merryweather Guild House:

  “The Rosemary Caper,” in An Unthymely Death and Other Garden Mysteries, by Susan Wittig Albert

  JANUARY 10

  First Aid for Faces

  Let’s face it. January blasts can chap and crack your skin, and long days in overheated buildings can sap your spirits. But herbs can help to heal both body and spirit. And there’s something especially healing in a soothing product you’ve made yourself, with all-natural ingredients. Almond meal (almond oil is used in many fine cosmetics) is used in both these recipes, which are favorites of Ruby Wilcox.

  This soothing treatme
nt for winter-worn faces is suitable for all skin types. The essential oils—you can choose from several, with different effects—provide a subtle aromatherapy, lifting and soothing your spirits, while the herbs and almond meal do their work.

  RUBY’S FACIAL MASK

  2 tablespoons almond meal (almonds ground very fine)1

  1 tablespoon powdered marigolds

  1 tablespoon powdered chamomile

  aloe gel, enough to make a paste (you can purchase this at

  the drugstore)

  about half of a raw egg

  2 drops chamomile essential oil, or oil of your choice

  Mix the almond meal and herbs together. Add enough aloe gel and egg to make a paste. Add essential oil. If the paste is too thin, add more almond meal; if it’s too thick, add a bit of aloe gel or egg. To use, wash your face. Pat dry, and apply the mask. Leave on for 10 minutes or so, while you’re lying down, then wash off gently. Refrigerate for up to a week. (This will make 3-4 masks.)