—MRS. CHILD, THE AMERICAN FRUGAL HOUSEWIFE, 1833
FEBRUARY 25
Plants in pots are like animals in a zoo—they’re totally dependent on their keepers.
—JOHN VAN DE WATER
Classy Clay Pots
Got pots? New clay pots that look so spanking clean that they might be mistaken for plastic? Want elegant, chic, antique clay pots, with a green, mossy patina? Here’s an easy way to get that prized vintage look, complete with moss.
Brush a generous coating of yogurt, buttermilk, or beer onto your new, unglazed clay pots, then give them a good dusting with pulverized earth (the real thing, not sterile potting soil). Put them somewhere out of the sun and keep them damp. (Yes, you can keep them indoors, in a corner of the basement or garage. And you can certainly plant something in them!) In three or four months, you’ll have those wonderfully romantic vintage pots you’ve been wanting. All your plant companions will be stylishly and happily housed and ready for your thoughtful attention.
HERE IS A LIST OF CLASSIC HERBS TO GROW IN YOUR CLASSY POTS:
Read more about potted herbs:
Herbs in Pots: Artful and Practical Herbal Containers, by Rob Proctor and David Macke
Horehound and Rue may be coupled together as liking a shady border and a dry, calcareous soil, and I have always heard that the latter thrives best when the plant has been stolen!
—LADY ROSALIND NORTHCOTE,
THE BOOK OF HERB LORE, 1912
FEBRUARY 26
This day celebrates Hygeia, the Greek goddess of healing and disease prevention. She is honored as the wise goddess of women’s health.
I think the best teachers are the plants themselves. . . . They teach us about the magic and beauty of life, the life force inherent in the green world. When you sit with a plant, observing its color and scent, aware of the community of different plants it grows with, sensing its relationship to the world, you begin to develop a deep sense of peace, joy, and wisdom.
—ROSEMARY GLADSTAR, HERBAL HEALING FOR WOMEN
A Green Life: From Susan’s Journal
When we start using herbs, growing them in our gardens, and learning about them, something magical happens. We begin to pay attention to the cycles and rhythms of nature, times of birth and growth, times of resting and waiting—and yes, times of dying. As we do this, we become more conscious of the way we live and the choices we make. How do we get to that place? Here’s what I’ve noted in my journal.
• I need to grow herbs. I grow as many as I can, in the garden, in pots on the deck, on my windowsills, herbs that belong to the multicultural tradition and herbs that are native to my own place. I learn about the wild herbs that are all around me, about their seasons, their life cycles. Gardening (indoors and out) teaches me to pay attention and be patient.
• I need to use herbs. I began in the kitchen, adding them to different foods and tasting the difference, especially as I reduced salt, sugar, and fat in my diet. Then I thought of ways I could use herbs to make the house smell good, and to make me feel good: herbal baths, herbal creams and lotions, herbal scents. I learned how to craft with herbs, dye with them, use them to make paper. I began to use them to treat my minor ailments and prevent illness. It’s all part of a healthy lifestyle.
• I need to learn more about herbs. There is an astonishing treasury of available information, in books, magazines, on the Internet, and from wise teachers everywhere. I try to learn something new every day.
• I enjoy keeping an illustrated journal, with sketches, clippings, pressed leaves, and flowers. Journaling makes me more aware of what I’m doing and, more important, why. My journal has been an invaluable source of information and pleasure.
Read about journaling:
A Life in Hand: Creating the Illuminated Journal, by Hannah Hinchman
FEBRUARY 27
An Excerpt from Happy Thymes: A Calendula of Herbal Dillies
China got a sneak peek at the Merryweathers’ new book, and asked permission to share a few items with you. This excerpt comes from Nelda Narendorf, head librarian at the Myrtle Masters Free Library in Pecan Springs. If you enjoy the little herb garden behind the library, Nelda is the one you should thank. (You might also offer her a hand, the next time you see her out there pulling weeds.)
You can also thank Nelda for this formula for fizzing bath salts, which appears on page forty-six of Happy Thymes. She claims that taking a bath in her salts is just as good as a trip to the hot springs at Mineral Wells. “It makes a pretty gift, too,” she says. “Last year at Christmas, the Merryweathers made up a washtub of it, poured it into jelly jars prettied up with ribbons and lace, and gave them to people at the nursing home. They all loved it, except old Mr. Boggings, who said it didn’t taste too good when he tried it on his mashed potatoes.”
NELDA NARENDORF’S OLD-TIMEY FIZZY BATH SALTS
1 cup Epsom salts
1 cup sea salt
1 cup baking soda
food coloring: 4 drops blue, 6 drops green
8 drops lavender essential oil
6 drops orange essential oil
6 drops neroli essential oil
4 drops peppermint essential oil
½ cup citric acid
Mix salts first, then add baking soda, food coloring, and oils. Add the citric acid last, and mix thoroughly.
Let’s be grateful for those who give us happiness; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls bloom.
—MARCEL PROUST
FEBRUARY 28
Love is the only flower that grows and blossoms without the aid of the season.
—KAHLIL GIBRAN
A Splash of Spring Color
If you have forsythia (Forsythia suspensa) in your garden, you can have a splash of colorful springtime magic in your home. Look for branches that have plump buds on them; the closer they are to blooming, the sooner you’ll have flowers. Snip in three-foot lengths and remove any buds or twigs that will be covered with water. Plunge the stems into a bucket of warm water, and (holding stems under the water so air doesn’t get into them) cut off the bottom inch or so. Put them in a cool, dry corner and give them occasional sun. It may be snowing outside, but before long, you’ll be rewarded with forsythia’s bright yellow blossoms and green leaves.
First introduced into Europe from the Orient in the early 1800s, forsythia is a deciduous, early-blooming yellow-flowered shrub with graceful, arching branches. In China, the seeds are used medicinally, for their antiviral, antibacterial, antifungal, and laxative properties. Yes, forsythia is an herb, too!
A Soft Touch of Spring
Another harbinger of warm days to come is the pussy willow, which I remember fondly as the surest celebration of spring on our Midwestern farm. These shrubby bushes grew beside the river, and when I found them on my Saturday hikes, I would carry home an armload, fill a vase with water, and marvel at their silvery gray, silky-soft catkins. In a week or two, the catkins would be replaced by little green leaves, and the cut branches would be sprouting roots.
In one of my childhood books, I read the story of the pussy willow. Early one spring, three kittens fell into a river. A compassionate willow, hearing their frantic cries, drooped graceful branches into the water to catch them as they swept past in the current. The kittens clung tightly to the branches and were saved. Each springtime since, the willows sprout furry buds at their tips where the kittens once clung. I still think of that lovely story when I see the soft catkins.
Our American pussy willow, Salix discolor, is a relative of the willow tree. Compassion is only one of its many virtues: see April 17 for others.
If snails come out in February, they will stay at home in March.
—TRADITIONAL WEATHER LORE
FEBRUARY 29
Every four years, February 29 is celebrated as Leap Year Day.
There is a belief in Gloucestershire and other counties, that Rosemary will not grow well unless where the mistress is master; and so touchy are some of the lord
s of creation upon this point, that we have more than once had reason to suspect them of privately injuring a growing rosemary in order to destroy this evidence of their want of authority.
—THE TREASURY OF BOTANY, 1855
Rosemary Remembered: About China’s Books
Today—the day when ladies traditionally rule—is a good day to celebrate rosemary, the herb that is traditionally under the sweet sway of the mistress of the house. For readers who enjoy rosemary lore and a mystery that revolves around this beautiful plant, Rosemary Remembered, the fourth in the China Bayles series, might be a good choice. The story begins when China finds her look-alike accountant, Rosemary Robbins, dead in the front seat of Mike McQuaid’s truck. What’s going on here? A case of mistaken identity, or something even more sinister? With Rosemary’s abusive ex-husband and plenty of former clients on the suspect list, China has lots of investigating to do, with the help of her new friend Sheila Dawson and a disembodied spirit who calls herself La Que Sabe.
But it is Ruby who comes up with the winning clue. Ruby has come up with a winning recipe for rosemary biscuits, as well: good for breakfast with strawberry jam, or as hot appetizers for a party.
RUBY WILCOX’S ROSEMARY BISCUITS
2 cups flour
¼ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1½ teaspoons sugar
2 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon minced fresh rosemary leaves or 1 teaspoon
crumbled dried rosemary
¾ cup milk
Preheat oven to 400°. Grease and flour a baking sheet. Sift the flour, salt, baking powder, baking soda, and sugar together. Cut the butter into the dry ingredients. Add rosemary and milk and mix together into a soft dough. On a lightly floured board, roll out dough ½-inch thick. Cut into 1½-inch squares (¾-inch squares or rounds, for appetizers) and place close together on the baking sheet. Bake for 20 minutes. Cool on a rack, or serve hot. Makes about 15 biscuits or 30 appetizers.
Read more about rosemary in:
Rosemary Remembered: A China Bayles Mystery, by Susan Wittig Albert
MARCH 1
The first of March is the feast day of St. David, the patron saint of Wales. It is a Welsh national holiday.
The gardener’s autumn begins in March, with the first faded snowdrop.
—ANNE RAVER
The Welsh Leek
The history of the leek (Allium ampeloprasum) as the emblem of Wales goes back to the battle of Heathfield in 633 CE, when the Welsh wore leeks in their caps to distinguish themselves from their Saxon foes. That’s one story. Another variant: Welsh archers wore leeks in their caps at the Battle of Agincourt, fighting with Henry V against the French. Whatever the explanation, the Welsh now wear the leek on March 1, just as the Irish wear shamrocks on St. Patrick’s Day. If you don’t have a leek handy, wear a daffodil, also an emblem of Wales. And if March has come in like a lion in your neighborhood, it’s undoubtedly a good day for a bowl of hot soup.
POTATO LEEK SOUP
3-4 leeks
2 tablespoons butter or olive oil
1 medium onion, finely chopped
3 cups chicken stock
4 large potatoes, peeled and cubed
1 tablespoon fresh minced thyme
1 cup half-and-half (you can substitute milk)
Salt and pepper to taste
Chopped parsley and chives for garnish
Slice the root ends from the leeks, and remove the fibrous dark green tops (save for vegetable stock). Slice lengthwise, wash, and chop the leeks. Heat the butter or olive oil in a medium-size stock pot. Add leeks and onion. Cover and cook over low heat until the onion is soft, about 5 minutes. Add the chicken stock and bring to a boil. Add potatoes. Reduce heat, cover, and simmer until the potatoes are thoroughly cooked, about 20 minutes. Add thyme in the last 10 minutes. Remove the pot from the heat. Lightly mash the potatoes in the stock, using a masher or spoon. Stir in milk, and add salt and pepper to taste. Reheat before serving. Garnish with chopped parsley and chives.
Read about growing leeks and other alliums in your garden:
Onions, Leeks, and Garlic: A Handbook for Gardeners, by Marian Coonse
If they would eat leeks in March
and mugworts in May
so many young maidens wouldn’t
go to the clay.
—TRADITIONAL
MARCH 2
About this time every year, the National Fiery-Foods Show is held, celebrating the authentic fire-power of the chile pepper.
It doesn’t matter who you are, or what you’ve done, or what you think you can do. There’s a confrontation with destiny awaiting you. Somewhere, there’s a chile pepper you cannot eat.
—DANIEL PINKWATER, “A HOT TIME IN NAIROBI” (IN CHILE
DEATH: A CHINA BAYLES MYSTERY)
Fire Power
It’s a mystery. How can an herb that causes an intense burning sensation, tears, and sweating be one of the most popular in America? And how can a plant that packs a painfully disabling wallop also lessen the disabling pain of arthritis, shingles, and herpes? Mystery or not, it’s a fact. The popular, painful chile pepper can knock you down—and pick you right up again.
The most fascinating feature of the chile pepper is its ability to inflict pain and create pleasure at the same time. This personality quirk is caused by a plant alkaloid called capsaicin (cap-say-a-cin), unique to chiles, which causes the sensation of heat. How hot? The chile pepper’s fire power is measured in “Scoville units,” named for the courageous taste-tester Wilbur Scoville. On the Scoville scale, a bell pepper clocks in at 0 units, a jalapeño at 5,000, and the fiery habanero at a blistering 300,000. Capsaicin itself is an inferno, measured at 15 million units. When you’re in pain (a natural consequence of eating a jalapeño), the nerve endings release a neurotransmitter called Substance P, which travels to the brain with the message, “Hey, I’m hurting!” In response, the brain releases neurotransmitters called endorphins, which produce the pleasurable sense of well-being that chile-heads call “the hot sauce high.”
Something similar happens when peppers are used medicinally. In an ointment, capsaicin has been shown to reduce arthritis pain and inflammation, ease cluster headaches, prevent herpes flare-ups, treat psoriasis, and alleviate surgical and burn pain. Dr. Roy Altman, of the University of Miami School for Medicine says: “The mystery is that it took us so long to figure out just how to use this stuff.”
The next time you pick a pepper from your garden or bring one home from the market, think of all its mysterious properties and marvel. Nature definitely knew what she was doing when she gave us the chile.
Read more about chiles:
The Chile Pepper Book: A Fiesta of Fiery, Flavorful Recipes, by Carolyn Dille and Susan Belsinger
The Healing Powers of Peppers, by Dave DeWitt, Melissa T. Stock, and Kellye Hunter
MARCH 3
I have eaten nettles, I have slept in nettle sheets, and I have dined off a nettle tablecloth . . . I have heard my mother say that she thought nettle cloth more durable than any other.
—THOMAS CAMPBELL, 1803
The Notorious Nettle
If you’ve been stung by a nettle (Urtica dioica), you probably haven’t forgotten the experience, and you may have avoided this notorious weed ever since. But over the centuries, the nettle has been a valuable wild herb.
THE GARDEN NETTLE
As liquid compost, nettles make a great fertilizer. Pick them in spring and pack them into a bucket with a lid, adding one-half gallon of water to each pound of nettles. Let sit for 2-3 weeks, stirring occasionally. Strain out the nettles and put them on the compost heap. Use the liquid as a fertilizer (1 cup nettle liquid to 10 cups water), on container and garden plants. In a stronger mixture (1 cup to 5 cups water), you can use it to spray aphids and black fly. The nettle itself is a food plant for butterflies.
THE MEDICINAL, COSMETIC NETTLE
Nettles hav
e been used for centuries to treat osteoarthritis, eczema, prostate problems, and dandruff. The leaves contain a natural histamine that may be useful in treating allergies. And yes, it’s true that the leaves of the dock, which often grows companionably with nettle, contain chemicals that neutralize nettle sting and cool the skin. “Nettle in, dock out,” as the old saying goes! And nettle is said to make your hair shine and feel thicker and smoother. To make a hair rinse, collect 2-3 cups of nettle leaves (wear gloves!). Cover with water in a nonreactive saucepan and simmer for 15 minutes. Strain and cool for use as a rinse after washing your hair.
THE EDIBLE NETTLE
The nettle is an excellent source of calcium, magnesium, iron, and vitamins. The young plants have been used in soups, stews, and as a spinachlike vegetable. In Scotland, oats and nettles were cooked as a porridge, and nettles were used to flavor and color cheese.
China Bayles' Book of Days Page 9
