Tag Archives: herbs

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N is for Native Medicinal Plants


One of the plants native to North America is the mayapple (Podophyllum peltatum).

Here’s a couple pictures from our hike up the west side today:

The plant is poisonous and I don’t use any part of it as home remedy, but the root is harvested for pharmeceutical companies to make certain cancer medications. Once the fruit is ripe, it is edible in small quantities and was once commonly used to make mayapple jelly.

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Sensual morning


As in employing all the senses.

First, when I was ready to go outside for the first time right after sunrise, I wondered what the temperature outside would be. Last night it rained, and I didn’t know if I needed a sleeve or not. Touched the glass on the back door and quickly determined, yep, it was chilly outside.

I’m not sure how cool it was, but it was humid and cool enough to make my nose slightly numb after a brisk walk. I’d guess around 40.  (Looked at the weather site to confirm and it said 38*F, so I was close).

One of the first sounds I heard this morning was an eagle somewhere in the sky. I couldn’t find it, but the sound is unmistakable, and they are here for the winter. The usual birdsong at dawn filled the air, but soon the jays dominated my auditory channel until a pack of coyotes on the hill broke the cadence with their yippling noises.

On the way back up the hill after finding the mullein I heard a flock of geese approaching, so I stopped to watch them. Their white undersides flashed in the sun when they suddenly switched directions and headed due south rather than the easterly they were on previously.

Speaking of finding the mullein, the sensory experience there was that of rose brambles clinging in a desperate attempt to hold me close to them. Their digging thorns would have been painful were I not dressed for the task.

As I pulled the velvety mullein leaves from their tap-root stalks, I breathed in the pleasant smell associated only with that plant and no other. It is a verdant odor, mingled with humus and microscopic life.

By the time I made it back to the house, distinctly aware of the blood pumping through my veins, I acknowledged that life was good today.

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On Being Proactive and Making Tea at 4 a.m.


Most of the time, I’m not (proactive). These days, I feel as if every day I’m flying by the seat of my pants and I’m rarely ahead of the game.

This morning, however, I gave myself a nice pat on the back for being proactive last summer. Yes, it took a while for my good behavior to pay off. 

Eldest woke up with a violent stomach virus this morning. He must have vomited five or six times in the span of an hour. At that rate, he would easily dehydrate, especially since not even a sip of water stayed put.

Collecting medicinal herbs is one of my passions and we use them almost exclusively in our household, for most common illnesses. But I’ve gotten lax about keeping things on-hand in that department, too. Stocking up requires proactive thinking, you see.

However, this morning, I remembered the herbs I’d gathered last summer while they were ripe for picking. I didn’t bother to hang them up to dry in neat little bouquets, I just put them in a large paper bag and let them dry like that. Tucked away under the cabinet, I’d completely forgotten they were there. Until this morning, when I wondered what on earth I’d have around to settle a queasy stomach and whack a virus.

What was in the bag, you wonder? It’s never the same from year to year, depending on what I see in bloom or berry at the time I think of picking. This year’s bag held red clover blossoms, elderberries, prunella, and wild mint. I saw some curly-q’s, so there might also have been some passion-flower vine.

A nice hot tea brewed with wild-crafted, locally-grown herbs turned out to be just the thing. There’s nothing quite like racking brains and brewing tea at 4 a.m. on a workday morning.  But it felt nice to actually have something productive to do about the situation, and my son felt the love.