Hmmm. I’ve tried to contemplate this challenge prompt in many ways, and I just keep seeing an image in my mind, of basement shelves.
When I was a child, we had a neighbor named Johnson. Les, I suppose short for Lester, was his first name, but he was Johnson to us. Johnson had been a WWII gunner, and had the damaged hearing to prove it. I don’t have very many memories of him, unfortunately. One thing I remember was his greeting- when he’d come to visit, he’d announce, “Salutations, and all such rot!” Another thing I remember was him showing me the one and only mistake he’d made when helping my parents re-do my bedroom- one crooked nail behind the door, that I knew was just between us. At some point, he helped my mom make shelves in our basement. That basement was by no means ‘finished’, but it didn’t have dirt floors either. At the bottom of the stairs was the laundry and a big sink, the furnace, a toilet under the stairs and some shelves at the back with paint and things, and a HUGE butcher block in the center. (That’s a tale for another time.) Through a doorway to the right, however, was storage. We had two freezers, a chest and an upright, and 3 walls of deep, deep shelves. They held everything. All manner of kitchen equipment like the huge roasting pans, everything you could need that wasn’t regular enough to be upstairs. “It’s on the shelves” was a familiar direction for lots of things we were looking for. These shelves also held canned goods (and canning equipment.) I remember the collapsible, chain-link basket that held the jars while they were in the boiling water. And I remember the canned string beans, and peaches. I also remember the mess and scent of canning tomatoes, but curiously not the tomato jars themselves. When I think of what inspires me to garden, to grow food and medicine, to spend time and energy on things that really are quite easily picked up on my way home each night, I just keep seeing these shelves. I see the lifestyle that demanded storing things like pressure canners and big grey dish tubs and who knows what else (I just had a memory flash of a spiral cut French fry maker!). I see the planning and preparation and foresight and decisions that went into the ‘simplicity’ of putting up your own food, of living 20 minutes from a grocery store, of having a driveway that needed an actual tractor (an old International that only my dad could use) to plow it. I see the relationship my parents had with an old guy who lived in a cabin and walked through our woods in the dark of night to get home, who treated my sister and I like granddaughters and would talk late into the night telling stories about a time long past (I think my mom still has the cassette tapes from recording those stories.) I think about my mom learning to garden and can from her mother, and my dad butchering deer on that basement with tubs of meat on EVERY available surface- no laundry that day! One of the only recipes I have in my dad’s handwriting is his brine he’d use before smoking some of that deer in the smokehouse he built himself. It’s something I took for granted as a child, because that’s how it was. But that life provides a satisfaction that not everyone will feel from that kind of work, and it’s a satisfaction that I am chasing. Eventually I will land in a home that is permanent and can hold the symbols of this life. I love the idea of living in a tiny house, but only if it’s got a full basement, and maybe a second floor over the garage. Where else could I put deep shelves?
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Saturday May 4 was Herb Day! How did you celebrate?
I dragged My Man with me to Barefoot Gardens in Doylestown PA to see what the American Herbalists Guild Eastern Chapter were offering. We got there just as my teacher Maia Toll was heading out. She gave a talk earlier in the day (here she is in an AHG Facebook picture) and I was very happy that she and My Man finally got to meet. One of my classmates was also there at the same time, and it was nice to see her outside of class too. AND she had a fabulous "I Love Herbs" sticker on her shirt! As we walked up to the collection of tents and tables, herbalist Cindy Koser was just beginning a talk on Herbal First Aid that we joined. She reviewed some basic herbs, and went into more advanced ones that included some I don't know well or at all. One was Spilanthes, or Toothache Herb. Well, My Man was the first to volunteer to taste that, he had bit his lip pretty good the night before and it still was painful. Most of us took a small leaf and laughed as our lips and tongue went numb. There were about 8 of us listening to Cindy, and I think we all had something to share or good questions to ask. It was a great We met the owners of Barefoot Gardens, Eric and Linda, and Eric invited us to peek in a cute shed they just use for storage- it's 16x16 with a loft over the porch, and it's just fun. My Man and Eric were joking (I think) that Eric and Linda should move in there and rent out their real house. Linda was selling plants, and between them and the used book sale happening I was all a-twitter. New herbs I got for my studio garden: Lavender Motherwort Hyssop Elecampane Spilanthes (of course!) Curry Plant Skullcap Yarrow Marshmallow The Yarrow was a freebie, Linda had sold out of the new starts but had a few from last year on the Intensive Care shelf, pretty dry and unhappy-looking, as unplanted plants tend to be. We'll see if they pull through, and if they do I look forward to making something fun and sharing with them. Oh, and I scored an "I Love Herbs" sticker AND one that says "Make Tea Not War"!
What a vista.
Far off in the distance, up a hill, I see evergreens and the skeletons of trees still to leaf out. There’s a trio of high powered tension lines out there, too, so I’ll just scootch my chair over a bit to hide them. In the mid-distance, a pond with a fountain, and an old stone pump house, and just a couple Canadian Geese (grrr). And nearer still, a curving flagstone path with a gazebo, lined with under-trimmed shrubbery and a sadly over-trimmed weeping tree of some kind. Those same flagstones create a few stairs to double glass doors, and probably are the same ones under my feet in this porch that has two sets of large windows on either side of the door, another set of windows at either end of the room, and extra exterior doors at either end too. More doors lead into the kitchen, my workshop room (there’s a window in the wall here), and my bedroom (another window!) Lovely, no? Oh, I forgot to mention the path that zooms between the gazebo and the pond, the golf carts, the lawn mowers, the groundhogs and squirrels, and all the people out practicing their swings on this breezy spring day. Not to detract from the beauty I see from my rented house, but to buffer it for sure! I love looking out my windows and seeing grass and trees, and not a road in sight, but I have to keep reminding myself that I’m not really ever alone here so put some pants on! I have only been here since last fall, so my "garden" really looks like this: Those are some seedlings, including San Marzano Tomatoes, Alpine Strawberries and Tulsi, and a calendula plant that made it through the winter.
More seedlings, on the table. I stood up for this one, but still this is what I see from my chair. Greens, aloe and a paperwhite that hasn’t opened yet.
On the inside wall, there are a couple convenient big nails in the mortar. This is lemon grass (r), swiss chard (sort of) (center), and stevia (l), all from last year!
Flowers I haven’t started yet. The lights are in a plastic bin of sand behind this chair, that I used to keep the other seedlings warm until they sprouted. Also behind the chair is a leafless Plumeria- it’s too sad to show right now!
That’s Rosemary in the green pot, Rose Geranium and Lemon Verbena in the strawberry pot, a little Clary Sage to the left of the Rosemary, and some Bird of Paradise leaves waving hello. Behind the Rosemary and strawberry pot is another scented geranium, I think maybe Nutmeg, but I don't remember and I'm not quite sure when I sniff!
There’s also a pot on the opposite side of the house with over-wintered St John’s Wort, and it looks like some Chamomile and French Sorrel coming back. There’s also a basket with Christmas Cactus and Heliotrope sunning on a flagstone.
I don’t know yet what I can do outside, what with wild men on lawnmowers and oversized rodents that are used to eating whatever they want. I guess I’ll find out soon!
A Dream Garden. Oh dear.
I see, out front, a ‘cottage garden,’ a riot of plants that looks charming from the drive and is the source of the herbal medicines I use as I become an herbalist in my own right. Perennials, self seeding annuals, shrubs, they have to be reined in and divided and multiplied with cuttings and allowed to creep as ground covers. This is organized chaos, or at least inventoried. Along side, and in back of the house are the more ordered, organized food beds. These have to be planned, rotated, fostered. Greens and root vegetables and Butternut Squashes and Paste Tomatoes and even a little plot of Quinoa, to try. Beans and Cabbages and Rhubarb, Strawberries and Blueberries, and unusual things like Gooseberries and Horseradish. Food for me, my family, for bartering and offering. And I want to Plant a Row for the Hungry, and for my local food bank too. And the garden shed! With its built in potting bench with Running Water! And windows! And racks for holding tools in convenient spots, and canvas bags for harvesting, and racks for lamps that I’ll start seeds under, and best of all, the Worm Bin. Every fall I’ll compost the leaves, the prunings, all that, make a pile and leave it to cook. But those little wormies will eat every day, since there will be extra Carrot tops and Pea shells from dinner, and bits pinched off the Tomatoes, and in general just scraps. Scraps of food I’ve nurtured onto my plate and into my health, that I can give back to that same dirt from whence the scraps came. And the bird’s-eye view- this garden is convenient, extremely convenient to my Dream House. It’s out front, on the sides, and in the back. Lawn? Yeah, maybe a little, if someone else is mowing. (I grew up with a ‘yard’ that was about 5 acres, and bordered by trees that were the beginning of the rest of our almost 80 acres total. “Convenient” to me means that I can see it, every day, from the doors and
My First Plant: Creative writing prompt #1!
I grew up on the side of a hill, the bottom of what Pennsylvania calls a mountain. We had a pole light (you have to be from the country to know what that is!) and where it had been installed, there was a sort of terraced corner. Just a stone and cement corner to hold back the slope. At some point in my mom's youth that corner marked the edge of a garden rectangle, but all I saw of that were two Blueberry bushes at the opposite end, and two big English Walnuts marking the back. The wind in those walnut trees used to wake me sometimes, in the summer when I slept with the windows open. That corner became my first herb garden. I don't remember how or why or when, exactly. I don't remember NOT having Lemon Balm and Lavender and Oregano and Thyme, and Sweet Woodruff growing in a sunken bucket because I read it would spread all over. I do remember when mom bought me an Edelweiss plant. We were at a flea market, it was a grey day, and there was an Amish vendor with all sorts of seedlings. There wasn't much room left in the square that was my garden, and I didn't really need or want anything else. And then we saw Edelweiss. From Captain Von Trapp's lips, to my garden. It was lovely and delicate. And it brought a friend, what I have since learned is the Blue Asiatic Dayflower- a vining plant with a VIVID blue flower. As much as I loved the Edelweiss, the Dayflower was an enigma. We bought Edelweiss! What was this interloper? I was learning that plants classified as "herbs" or "flowers" or "weeds" were part of a community, and were only separated into individual plastic pots for commercial distinctions. A Dayflower seed, or slip of root, must have found its way into that pot and stayed for the ride only to find itself in my garden. And that was OK. I don't think either the Dayflower or the Edelweiss lasted very long in my garden, and I would be surprised if any of the garden at all remained today. But I have a warm spot in my memory for that pretty blue flower, and the journey it accidentally took to join that 'bit of earth' with the others. Sometimes I'm the Edelweiss, intentional and directed, and sometimes I'm the Dayflower, the happy accident for someone or something else. Look for the Dayflowers in your life. |
Fun Fact: I'm an herbalist and a movement coach. Not a doctor, or a pharmacist, and not pretending to be one on TV.
This is a public space, so my writing reflects my experiences and I try to stay general enough so it might relate to you. This does not constitute medical advice, and I encourage you to discuss concerns with your doctor. Remember, however, that the final say in your wellness decisions are always yours- you have the power to choose, you are the boss of you. And, some of my posts may contain affiliate links. If you make a purchase through them I'll earn a few cents. Thank you for supporting my work. This website is provided for educational and informational purposes only and is not medical, mental health or healthcare advice. The information presented here is not intended to diagnose, treat, heal, cure or prevent any illness, medical condition or mental or emotional condition. Working with us is not a guarantee of any results. Paula Billig owns all copyrights to the materials presented here unless otherwise noted. Categories
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