Plants’ Alchemy: Manifestation

Posted on July 3, 2013 by Iris Weaver

Mullein–Verbascum thapsus

One year I had a mullein plant put itself smack in the middle of my garden path, and it was a very narrow path! All summer I walked around it, not wanting to pull it out, knowing it had a message for me, but not taking the time to listen.

Finally I took the time to sit with Mullein and ask it what it wanted me to know. I received a picture of air and sunshine and leaves and… I have no words for the actual vision I was shown.

I had to translate it to human terms so I could understand what I was being told. The message was that plants take what is invisible, what is unformed and untouchable, and transform it into a tangible form, one that can be felt, touched, seen, is somehow solid. I found this amazing and awe-inspiring, invoking reverence for all plants.

I thanked Mullein for the message it had so patiently waited to give me and it finished its life cycle that fall.

Later I realized that what mullein was describing is photosynthesis. Plants take sunlight—ethereal energy that cannot be tangibly held, and transform it into leaves, flowers, stems, and roots—their very tangible plant bodies. So simple and so common, perhaps, something we learn about in school, something that happens all around us every day that we don’t even think about.

And yet the way I was shown that information helped me understand what a miraculous, sacred act it is for a plant to transform sunlight into matter. It is something that animals and humans cannot do, period, and which we must rely on the plants to provide for us. What would we eat if not plants, or animals that eat plants at some point? What would we make clothing out of if not plant materials, or wool from animals that eat plants? You get the picture.

But it is not just photosynthesis that was being explained to me. It was about the ability to transform, to manifest, to make something from “nothing”.

Since then I have felt that where plants fit in the vibrational scheme of this world is in the middle—somewhere between the dense energy of animals (including us humans) and the energy of the stars and the higher realms of Spirit (God, if you will). Plants are the intermediary between these denser and lighter energies. They help bring the lighter energies from the etheric realms into the physical, where we can connect with them.

In my humble opinion, plants are the first, and the truest, alchemists.

Herbs and Plants Overview

Featured

Posted on June 5, 2013 by Iris Weaver

OVERVIEW:

Plants are about transformation.
Plants transform sunlight and air into solid plant flesh that you can see and hold.
They take the intangible and make it tangible. They are true alchemists.
This is the gift they give us – their transformative energy.

I work with plants on many levels.

On the physical level I use them for food, medicine, body care, flavoring, color, decoration, and more.
I work with plants on the energetic and spiritual levels, where we can connect with the energy of the plant for healing and uplifting, and plants can truly share their wisdom with us.
In these ways, plants share their transformative properties with me and shape and change my life for the better.
I believe that every plant in this world has a purpose whether or not we humans have discovered it. Therefore I work with many plants ( some of which, such as poison ivy, might seem rather off-putting!) for their energy.
I use plants that are wild, maybe considered weeds, and cultivated plants; many that are considered herbs, and many that are not. They’re all important to me.

Working with plants for their energy and wisdom and spiritual gifts, as well as their physical aspects, has led me to start introducing people to their Plant Allies , so that the wider gifts of a plant can be understood by those who want to go deeper.

WILD PLANTS:

We are surrounded by a wealth of yummy, nutritious and/or medicinal wild plants, otherwise known as weeds.
They grow everywhere and are mostly ignored, no longer valued for their nutrients and medicine, or simply overlooked.
Some of these marvelous plants are native to this country or this hemisphere; many came with European settlers and other immigrants and became garden escapees and then disappeared from popular consciousness.

I want to introduce you to these wonderful plants that provide such bounty just for the picking.
There is much food and medicine that costs little or nothing to make and use.
I focus on the plants that grow in New England, that are often literally in our backyards. These are usually the plants that have the most to offer us here in this part of the world, and they are the plants that we can most easily access and use.
Check out my classes on wild foods and medicines, and find out what else you can do with these living treasures!

Some of the favorite “weeds” that I focus on:

Dandelion
Burdock
Chickweed
Queen Anne’s Lace
Milkweed
Evening Primrose
Purslane
Goldenrod

HERBS:

What is an herb?
The Herb Society of America calls an herb “a plant for use and delight”.
Herbs are plants used by humans for many things – flavor and seasoning; medicine; color – for fibers and fabrics, for food; for scent; for decoration; for their energetic and spiritual properties.

I use herbs in many ways and for many purposes.
Some of my favorite ways are:

medicine–for simple, everyday ailments;
skincare – in lotions and salves, infused oils, and scrubs;
edible flowers; dyeing fabric and fiber;
decoration – wreaths and simple dried arrangements;
herbs’ energy and spirit

Want to know more about using herbs?
I have classes and do consultations about many of these ways of interacting with herbs.
Find out how you can make herbs a part of your life!

Some of my favorite herbs:

Calendula
Rosemary
Thyme
Lavender
Mullein
Scullcap
Catnip

And so many more!
Don’t be shy! Ask me about your favorite herb, or discover which will become your favorite.

Natural Fabric Dyeing:

Did you know that up until the mid 1800’s the only way to get colors for your fabrics and yarns was from plants, and an occasional insect, mollusk, or mineral?
One of the alchemies of the plant world is getting color for your yarns and fabrics from a seemingly indescript plant that may or may not seem to offer anything in the way of dye color.

Looking at the green leaves of indigo, who would ever guess at the incredible blues that it renders?
It’s easy to imagine yellow goldenrod flowers giving a yellow hue, but to find that they also yield khaki green and bright orange? Amazing!

Both wild and cultivated plants and herbs give us an incredible array of colors; some have been used for centuries, even millenia, others are still waiting to be discovered.

I have been dyeing fabric and yarn for 40 years, and I still get excited when I see fabric coming out of the dye pot with a splendid hue.
Some of my favorite dye plants:

Osage Orange (native tree that gives yellow and khakis)
Madder (traditional dye plant whose roots give reds, salmons, oranges)
Goldenrod (yellows, oranges, greens)
Black Walnut (browns, blacks)
Onion Skins (golden oranges)

Appreciating Spring

Posted on June 4, 2013 by Iris Weaver

I love the smell of the air in spring. It is so sweet, I just drink it in. It’s like honey, only lighter. I have figured out why the air smells better in spring than at any other time of the year. Every tree and bush that possibly can is blooming, some very inconspicuously and others with showy gusto. Maples have tiny flowers, and oaks have long catkins. There are ornamental cherries and apple trees, and lilacs and lots of bushes and trees whose names I don’t know. All of them are throwing their sweet scents into the air. Anywhere you walk, it smells good, and then every so often you pass a particular shrub, a certain tree, and for a minute the perfume intoxicates you.

The colors are amazing. I’m not even talking about the colors of the flowers, simply the colors of all the leaves and foliage that come back in spring, or that have been around all winter and get highlighted by newly juxtaposed leaves.

The colors of spring are not simply an undifferentiated new-leaf green, they are a subtle, wide-ranging palette of greens and browns and reds. Different shadings of yellow-green, green-yellow, mixed in with greeny-browns and true browns. Deep greens of rhododendrons and evergreens and firs, the latter two with light lime-green tips. Japanese maples, of course, start with red leaves immediately, but other trees and plants start in the red range. The leaves of pink dogwood are deep greeny-pink when they first emerge. Rose bushes have new leaves tinged with red around the edges. Peonies send up their red shoots that later turn green. Other plants start right away with dark green leaves, like the violets that begin with deep green shoots. Day lilies start sending up leaves early, though they don’t bloom until summer. The leaves are a medium green yellow, just a little lighter than iris leaves, which start emerging shortly after the daylilies do.

What also pleases me to see in the spring is the way trees and plants get clothed in their foliage. Driving along the highway this spring has given me a particularly good opportunity to observe this. Trees and bushes don’t come to life fully and thickly leaved. It’s a gradual process, which makes the landscape look like a sponge painting for a few weeks. It appears as if someone has taken sponges of different textures and densities and daubed on the foliage. Some of it is very airy and lacy, while other textures are thicker, richer, more opaque. This, with the wide-ranging palette of shades, makes me feel like I am moving through a living painting.

Chickety-Chickety-Chickweed

Posted on June 4, 2013 by Iris Weaver

Chickweed, Stellaria media

Chickweed is a dainty, shy, yet incredibly persistent plant, called chickweed in part because it is eaten by—you guessed it—chickens.

Chickweed is an annual that can grow several generations in a year, and is found all over the world. Though it has a surprising number of chemical constituents for such a small, innocuous-seeming plant, it is also a marvelous and nutritious salad plant.

As with so many of our most ubiquitous plants, the name is shared by several common species. The plant I am talking about here is Stellaria media. There are several other plants in this genus that share the name chickweed, and several other genuses as well, but today I am talking about Ms S. media. You may be surprised to find that I don’t capitalize her second name, but in botanical nomenclature, the species name is always lower case.

It took me a long time to get to know chickweed, though I had been seeing her around for years. Pictures in books and on weed-killer charts in the hardware store just didn’t seem to relate to what I finally found was a very low-growing, teeny-flowered plant. And by low-growing, I mean only rising a few inches above the ground. And her taste was nothing to write home about, just kind of green.

But, despite her somewhat shy nature, I did start to pay attention and found her everywhere! What really amazes me about chickweed is her ability to grow year-round, even in the seeming dead of winter. I have gone outside in January and looked at a clear spot on the ground, and there is chickweed growing happily, surrounded by snow! It just amazes me. The time when chickweed is nowhere to be found is in the heat of summer. She is a complete no-show in mid-summer, and doesn’t start popping up again until the cooler temperatures return sometime in September.

So what can we do with chickweed, besides admiring her starry flowers and her unwavering determination to grow anywhere she can get a root in? (Boy, do perfect-lawn-lovers hate her!) Chickweed is nutritious to eat, and a great medicine plant both internally and externally.

Chickweed has a great array of minerals, vitamins, proteins, and more. You get such a good boost of nutrition by eating even a handful of the plant. You also get the benefits of her medicinal properties this way.

But chickweed can also be used as medicine by making tinctures, vinegars, and infused oils. She has cooling properties, helping with fevers, infections, and wounds. She also helps with weight loss. How cool is that!

This excerpt by Susun Weed on chickweed gives an idea of how wonderful the physical and energetic medicine of this plant is:

[Steroidal] saponins [contained in chickweed] are soap-like; they emulsify and increase the permeability of all membranes. By creating permeability chickweed encourages shifting boundaries on all levels, from cellular to cosmic. Chickweed saponins increase the absorption of nutrients, especially minerals, from the digestive mucosa [digestive tract]. Her saponins gently dissolve thickened throat and lung membranes, emulsify and thus neutralize toxins, and weaken bacterial cell walls, making them vulnerable to disruption of their activities. (Weed 119)

It is these saponins that in part give chickweed her ability to help with weight loss.

Take a bit of time while chickweed is still enjoying the relative cool of late spring to meet her and get acquainted. She is a true friend for anyone who takes the time to know her.

To learn more from human sources, I suggest these (though of course there are many others):

Wise Woman Herbal: Healing Wise by Susun S. Weed; Ash Tree Publishing; 1989

A Modern Herbal by Mrs. M. Grieve, Dover Publishing

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stellaria_media

Making an Infused Oil with St. John’s Wort

Posted on June 4, 2013 by Iris Weaver

Hypericum_perforatum Many people have heard of St. John’s wort, often as an herbal aid for depression. But St. John’s wort is also a marvelous herb for your skin.

Surprised? Well, many herbs have both internal and external uses, and St John’s wort is no exception.

This wonderful herb has been used for hundreds of years for nerves. We have nerve cells both inside our bodies (the central nervous system, where neurotransmitters regulate our moods) and in our skin, where nerves let us know if we’re hot or cold, or if our skin (our body’s outer defense layer) has been hurt in any way, such as scratches or insect bites or sunburn.

Over the years, many cultures observed that a plant’s shape and/or growth seemed to roughly correlate to parts of the human body. People realized that the herb, or the relevant part of it, benefits the corresponding area of the body (in Christianity, this was known as the “Doctrine of Signatures”).

It is easy to make a beautiful, dark-red oil from St. John’s wort to be used directly on your skin, or add to salves and lotions.

All you need is a clean, dry jar with a lid, good-quality olive, sweet almond oil, or other vegetable oil (preferably organic), and a nice stand of the plant in bloom.

St. John’s wort is easily identified with the help of a good field guide. The cultivar you want is known botanically as Hypericum perforatum, the “perforatum” of the species name referring to little translucent glands scattered throughout its leaves, somewhat mimicking the nerves and glands of our skin.

Other species of Hypericum don’t have the constituents that are needed, so even if you have a beautiful ornamental St. John’s wort shrub in your yard, resist the temptation to use it –you’ll get disappointing results.

St. John’s wort grows in sunny fields and roadsides, as well as partial shade. I was surprised one year to find it taking over the woodsy hill in my backyard!

It blooms from the middle of June until August or September, though less profusely after July. The herb got its name because it blooms around St. John’s Eve, June 24.

So, on a beautiful, sunny day, when dew or rain have dried off the plants (usually late morning), take a pair of scissors and a basket or paper bag and go harvest St. John’s wort tops.

Take only the top quarter of the plant (flowers, buds, possible seed heads, leaves, and stems). All these parts contain active ingredients.

Two cups loosely packed is enough.

This allows the perennial plant to keep growing and blooming so it can come back next year.

Be aware of where you are picking. Do not take plants closer than a few yards next to a highway or busy street, or from an area you know or suspect is contaminated with lead or other chemicals/heavy metals. Remember that whatever goes onto your skin gets absorbed into your body to some extent.

When you get home, spread the St. John’s wort out to wilt for a few hours or overnight, or place in a very low-temp oven for a short time. This gets out some of the moisture, so your oil is less likely to mold. It is called fresh-wilting.

Next, cut up the plant material to some extent.

Lightly pack the St. John’s wort into your clean jar. You don’t want to cram as much plant material as possible into the jar, but you also want more than a few sprigs of herb. The herb matter should be slightly springy.

Pour the oil in and fill the jar to a little above the top of the plant matter, then take a skewer or chopstick and stir to get air bubbles out.

Screw on the lid.

Label your jar with the date, the herb, and the kind of oil you used.

Check the jar the next day and add more oil if necessary, because the plants may have absorbed some and the level may have dropped. Make sure plant material is completely covered, because any plant matter that is above the oil, in air, can easily cause molding. You can shake the jar to get the herb and oil to combine more completely.

Depending on your preference you can leave your oil on a sunny windowsill or place it in a dark cupboard. Either way, put it on a plate or something oil-resistant! Some of the oil will inevitably ooze out of the jar. Let this mixture brew for six weeks (if you’re in a hurry, 4 weeks will do), checking it occasionally and stirring out air bubbles.

After six weeksyour oil may go bad if you wait too long. Using cheese cloth or clean muslin (don’t use a coffee filter or paper towels, the pores are too fine and will clog up), strain out the plant matter, then squeeze out any leftover oil from the plant matter.

Put your infused oil into another clean, dry jar. Label this jar also.

The oil will last for several years, especially if you keep it refrigerated or in a cool place.

You can use the oil directly on your skin, or as the base for salves and lotions. St. John’s wort oil is a great soother for sunburn, sun-poisoning rash, and some eczemas. It is also a fine moisturizer. Traditionally St. John’s wort has been used externally to help with nerve pain.

Remember not to use it on open wounds, and always consult a health-care practitioner about any skin problems.

Oils and Waxes for Skincare and Skincare Products

Posted on June 4, 2013 by Iris Weaver

This is a listing of some of the oils and waxes used in making herbal lotions and salves and other skincare products.

There are more oils than mentioned here, but this gives you a start.

OILS:

Olive Oil (Olea europaea)

Comes from the fruit of the olive tree.
Olive oil has good keeping qualities and doesn’t easily go rancid.
The best olive oil to use is extra virgin. It’s high in chlorophyll and an excellent solvent for the medicinal properties of herbs, therefore it has traditionally been used by herbalists for making medicinal oils.
It has medicinal properties of its own. It is occlusive and emollient.
High in fatty acids and vitamin E, and packed with vitamins, minerals, and proteins.
Traditionally used by herbalists to make healing herbal oils.

Almond Oil (Prunus amygdalus)

Comes from the seed (the nut you eat).
Almond oil is emollient, nutritive, and skin-softening. It is rich in protein, minerals, and amino acids. It relieves itchy or inflamed skin.
It is lighter than olive oil, therefore popular as a bath and skin oil.

Apricot Kernel Oil (Prunus armeniaca)

From the seed of the apricot fruit.
Apricot kernel oil is light and fine, good for sensitive or delicate skin. It is a skin softener, and helps heal damaged skin cells. Rich in Viatmins A and B. Can be used as a substitute for sweet almond oil.

Avocado Oil (Persea americana)

From the avocado fruit. Contains vitamins A, D, and E; protein, lecithin, and fatty acids. These are all helpful for dry skin or eczema.
Helps rebuild skin collagen and diminishes age spots.
Useful for soothing sunburn.

Castor Oil (Ricinus communis)

From the seed of the castor plant fruit.
Humectant, soothing, emollient, and deeply penetrating.

Cocoa Butter (Theobroma cacao)

from the cocao bean (a seed).
Solid at room temperature, but melts on contact with the skin; has a lovely chocolate scent. It is very fatty and therefore it is great for dry skin, but not oily skin.
Soothing, emollient, and lubricating. (Don’t use as an emulsifier for salves and lotions as it liquefies when warm.)

Coconut Oil (Cocos nucifera)

from coconuts (seed of the coconut tree).
Solid at normal room temperatures, will liquefy when temperatures get to about 76-80 degrees F.
Moisturizing, emollient.
Antiviral, antibacterial, antifungal, antiparasitic.
Externally it increases skin cell turnover and decreases healing time; good for pregnant bellies and breasts, stretch marks, and C-section scars. (Don’t use as an emulsifier for salves and lotions as it liquefies when warm.)

Grapeseed Oil

Antioxidant, antibacterial, deodorizing.
It is very light, rapidly absorbed, and leaves no oily residue. It is good for use on oily skin.

Hemp Seed Oil (Cannabis sativa)

From the seed of the plants. Emollient.

Kukui oil (Aleurites molaccana)

A seed oil. Easily absorbed. Emollient, soothing to irritated, sunburned, or burned skin.

Lanolin

An oil produced by sheep to protect and waterproof their fleece. Works well as a skin conditioner.
Some people are allergic to lanolin, and some people with wool allergies may also be allergic to lanolin.
Lanolin can be used as an emulsifier in lotions and creams. It can hold up to 2 times its weight in water.

Sesame Oil (Sesamum indicum)

from sesame seeds. Occlusive and emollient, polyunsaturated. Antifungal. In Indias it’s used to cure athlete’s foot.

Sunflower Seed Oil (Helianthus annuus)

from sunflower seeds.
Lightweight, full of vitamins and minerals.
Good for all skin types.

Shea Butter (Butyrospermum parkii)

nourishing and moisturizing. Good for sensitive skin.

Walnut Oil (Juglans regia)

From the nut of the walnut tree.
The oil contains minerals and is emollient and vulnerary.

WAXES:

Beeswax

A by-product from bees.
Contains tiny amounts of pollen, propolis, and honey.
Holds fatty oils in emulsion in salves, creams, and lotions.
It is an emulsifier and skin softener. It does not clog pores. Has melting point of about 144O.

Candelilla wax (Euphorbia cerifera)

A vegetable wax.
Used as a substitute for beeswax in cosmetics and candle-making.
Derived from flakey residue on stems of candelilla plant that grows in American Southwest.
Has melting point of about 155-165O.

Carnauba wax (Copernicia cerifera)

A vegetable wax derived from the Carnauba palm of Northern Brazil.
Hardest of the natural waxes. Has melting point of about 172-181O.
When using carnauba wax in place of beeswax, always use less carnauba wax than the amount of beeswax called for.
Start with an amount of carnauba ¼ that of beeswax, and gradually increase until desired consistency is reached.
You’ll probably use about ½ the amount of carnauba as of beeswax.

Jojoba (Simmondia chinensis)

a wax ester extracted from the seeds of a native cactus that grows in the American Southwest and Mexico. It appears to be a viscous oil, but is actually a wax.
Contains protein, minerals, and a waxy substance similar to collagen.
Lubricant, cleanser, moisturizer; reduces wrinkles and stretch marks, helps lighten and heal scars.
Helps protect agains UV rays.
Antioxidant, antimicrobial, anti-inflammatory, emollient.
Similar in chemistry to sebum, skin’s natural moisturizer.
Conditions and softens skin and hair.
Good for dry, chapped skin and as a nail and cuticle conditioner.
Doesn’t clog pores. Non-toxic, non-allergenic.
It’s an emulsifier.
The oil is similar to, and has replaced, sperm whale oil

Wintering Over Tender Plants

Posted on June 4, 2013 by Iris Weaver

Lemon verbena and geraniums in patio garden

Lemon verbena and geraniums to be wintered over.

Most of us have at least one or two tender perennials that we cannot bear to part with at the end of the summer. Some of us have practically a whole garden’s worth! Whichever it is, it’s good to know a simple, inexpensive way to get those plants through the winter, short of building a greenhouse.

A visit to a hardware store, like Ace, Home Depot, or Lowe’s, can supply you with all that you’ll need to set up a winter nursery in your basement or a corner of your living room or dining room. (Note that you can do a simple version of this if you have just 1 or 2 plants. Remember to place your plant on a very sunny windowsill or provide a small plant light for adequate light [plants get very unhappy with lack of light]. Also make sure you have adequate ventilation [some plants, like rosemary, are very unhappy and get sick if they don’t have enough air flow]).

What you’ll need:

A set of sturdy storage shelves
Shop light fixtures that plug in
Fluorescent plant lights, or fluorescent bulbs one warm, one cool, for each light fixture
Lightweight chain
“S” hooks
Plastic bags or sheeting
Outlet strip (optional)
Timer (optional)

After you have potted up any plants that are not already in pots, you will need someplace to set your plants.

Utility shelves are cheaper than specialty light benches, and are also available in a range of heights.

Make sure you get shelves that are designed for major poundage; I first got the cheap grey metal shop shelves, and they are definitely not up to the task of holding heavy plants.

You can also set up a table or bench, wooden skids on the basement floor, or (as one friend did) shelves attached to the wall above the kitchen sink or your toilet.

Just be sure there is access to an electrical outlet and somewhere to secure your light.

One of the advantages of using utility shelves that you put together yourself is that you can place the shelves at heights that work for your particular plants. I usually leave one shelf out to give me more space for taller plants.

If you have your plants on metal or composite shelves, or somewhere that will be affected by water seepage, line your shelves with plastic.

Also, you can find old plastic cafeteria trays or heavy-duty baking sheets to place under your plants.

You can fill spaces around plants with seashells, gravel/stones, or decorative marbles.

Lights:

Shop lights usually come in 4-foot lengths, though you can find fixtures in other lengths as well. Plant bulbs (with the right light spectrum for plants) for fluorescent fixtures are available again in different lengths to fit your fixtures. They last a surprisingly long time. Mine have given me about three winters before needing to be replaced. One gardener I know suggests using 2 ordinary fluorescent bulbs, one warm and one cool, to give the same light spectrum and save on costs.

The simplest way to hang your lights is to use lightweight chain. Your light fixture will be hanging from the shelf above it, shining on the plants on the next shelf down.
Run a length of chain lengthwise over and along the shelf from which your light will hang (the chain will be covered by the plastic you put under your plants). Leave a tail of chain hanging down from each end of the shelf.

Use “S” hooks to attach your light to the chain, hanging it at whatever height you want. You can then easily adjust up or down, depending on your plants’ needs. The ends of your light fixture may extend beyond the ends of your shelves. This shouldn’t be a problem. If you have just one or two lights, it’s simple to plug them into an outlet or extension cord.
I find it easiest, however, especially with more light fixtures, to use an outlet strip.
I have attached my strip to the support leg of my shelves with duct tape.

Remembering to turn your lights on and off at regular intervals can be a challenge. If you’re like me, your plants can be subjected to a wildly lit night life and a very dark daytime. To give my plants a nice, steady light diet, I quickly started using a timer. I set it to run from 6:00 a.m. to 10 p.m., so my plants get about 16 hours of light a day. They seem to do well with this. I plug the outlet strip into the timer to regulate all the lights together.

What Plants Can You Winter Over?

There are many plants that will die in New England’s Zone 4 to 6 winter temperatures that can be cared for inside until the next warm season arrives. Here are a few of the plants that I have wintered over or seen being wintered over.

Geraniums/Pelargoniums–everyday geraniums and scented geraniums
Rosemary (the only way to get it through the winter in New England, where winter temps will kill it otherwise)
African blue basil (this is a more sturdy basil, regular sweet basil isn’t happy to come inside)
Lemongrass
Lemon verbena
Bay tree
Myrtle (Myrtis communis)
Citrus trees

I used this method for many winters and found it to be simple and manageable. I hope you will, too.

Comment below and let me know how this worked for you, and if you had any problems or revelations. What will you be wintering over?

(This post was edited in September 2015.)

Roots

Posted on June 4, 2013 by Iris Weaver

This is how I came to gardening – I wanted to put down roots.

Eight years ago, after I’d been in Salem for some months, and in my current apartment since Christmas, I decided I wanted to plant something in my yard as a way of physically symbolizing that I was putting down roots.

Coming to the North Shore of Boston was the first time that I had moved somewhere simply because I wanted to be there, not for a job or a man. This is not quite true; when I moved to New Haven just before my seventeenth birthday, it was because I chose to, but even then it was to go to school (an alternative high school) and my transition was made easier, possible at all actually, because I had friends down there that I knew from the Yale Summer School of Music and Art.

When I decided to move up here (to the North Shore of Boston), I decided that I was through with constantly moving, and I was going to stay put, I was going to put down roots.

The first place my daughter and I lived up here was two rooms rented from one of the Salem witches. I knew it was temporary, a place from which to find a permanent home, still, it took the prodding of a crisis worker to get me home-hunting when I was given notice to leave so that the witch’s boyfriend could move back in.

I believed that if I treated the two room temporary home as a permanent place, then the energy I put out into the Universe would result in a permanent home.

My youngest brother had been staying with me and my daughter for a couple months, and we finally decided (at the encouragement of the crisis worker) to find a place together.

I very quickly found the apartment we moved into that I’ve had for eight years. It had everything I had decided I wanted. We were still in the same neighborhood. My daughter could go to the same school she’d already been attending. We were right near the first friends I had made up here, including the girl who babysat for Heather. There were enough rooms so we could each have our own bedroom. The landlord had no problems with my being on welfare. And there was a backyard, though I didn’t know at the time how I would come to feel about it.

Where that apartment was located in a way saved my life in the next few years, because when I was deeply depressed and barely able to function, I was, literally, right next door to the grocery store, the drugstore, and the bank.

Later, I found I was on a bus route to Lynn and Boston. I could walk to therapy, and somehow get myself home after a difficult session. There were sub shops and pizza places within a couple blocks, when I couldn’t find the energy to cook. I don’t know what I would have done if I had not been where I was. When we got that apartment we’d moved, by my count, 11 times in Heather’s 10 years of living, more in her way of reckoning it. I wanted to finally stay in one place where I planned to stay, not just find myself in the same place after 10 years by default, as I had in New Haven (which I had to come to love a lot).

One way to prove that I was putting down roots was by planting something. A perennial that would be there year after year, not an annual that died after one summer – that connoted impermanence to me.

I had met a friend, in my first semester at North Shore Community College, who loved gardening and really liked bulbs. She gave me a catalog for Dutch bulbs and I ordered a mixture of daffodils and narcissi. I also planted miniature crocuses.

The second year I ordered from that company I got my peony. I also got my daughter a royal crown imperial, a rather amazing plant that rises out of the ground suddenly in the spring and puts forth a crown of skunk-scented bell-shaped orange flowers, then dies back and totally disappears until next year, when I have again forgotten about it.

I asked my landlord if I could put in a rosebush. I got an inexpensive one at Heartland, but it didn’t take–it lived one year and died by the second summer. I was disappointed, but I felt I’d started to accomplish my purpose. I never did get around to finding another rosebush to put in.

Anyway, there was the rosebush that already lived there, and under which I planted the red tulip bulbs I’d gotten free with one of my bulb orders. And gradually I collected the plants I’ve got now.

So I put down roots. And I did good. I put my roots down deep and sucked up nourishment I’d never had before. Drank deep so that my parched being could begin to unwrinkle itself, unfurl its leaves and fill itself with light.

In turn I nurtured my daughter. I once read that baby plants do better if the parent plant is still alive, even if the two plants are separated by miles. I think my daughter has been like a baby plant, more alive because her parent is alive.

And now I’m pulling up my roots, transplanting them to new soil, a new piece of earth in which to let them take hold.

Moving from the North Shore to the South Shore of Boston. I wonder what will take hold and what will wilt, how my new garden and new life will bloom.

Spring 1994

Plant Allies: Garden Sage

Posted on June 4, 2013 by Iris Weaver

Many people find that they are strongly attracted to certain plants. These plants feel like friends to them and often these are the plants they’ll turn to (or can turn to) when they have a need to be filled. These are plant allies.

One of my favorite plant allies is garden sage (Salvia officinalis). It is strong and hardy, and nothing seems to faze it.
Sage Its leaves are grey-green which I find soothing and deeply satisfying. Some of the leaves look leathery and are textured like the surface of your tongue. The leaves and leaf-stem are faintly velvety when new.

Sage has a pungent scent when fresh, and also when the dry leaves are burned for purifying rituals.

I’ve observed how it grows–even branches that seem to be dead will put out leaves and continue to live.

If a stem is left touching the ground it will eventually take root. Cut off the end of a leafy twig or branch, and it will soon grow more.

A sage twig came off of one of the plants I was transplanting, and I stuck it in some soil.
A few weeks later, its green leaves telling me it was still alive, I dug it up with its fledgling roots to put in the garden.

With leaves from one of my sage plants I made a wreath: wired bunches of fresh sage onto a grapevine base and left it lying flat so that the leaves wouldn’t all droop towards the floor. The leaves dried into wonderful forms, twisting and turning and becoming a deeper shade of sage greeny-grey. It is exquisite, and stands alone as an art object.

One of the reasons that I like sage so much is that it is used for purification and protection. I feel, when I have sage in the house, that simply by its presence there it is providing spiritual protection.

My sage wreath especially seems to be blessing my house by being in it.

Sage is also an ingredient in the dream pillows I make that are intended for lucid dreaming and trance-work. And it is one of my spirit allies.

February 2004

Flower Salad

Posted on June 4, 2013 by Iris Weaver

I love using flowers and herbs in salads and cooking.

They give me an involvement with the dish I’m making that is different – more intimate, more interesting, more exciting.

Making salads in the summer involves a little routine.
I take the flat basket I use for gathering herbs and go into the backyard.
In late spring there are chive blossoms, violet flowers, dandelion flowers. In summer there are nasturtium blossoms and leaves, lemon gem and tangerine gem marigold flowers, chives, wood sorrel, violet leaves, and purslane. Chickweed grows where it’s shady and cool and is unobtrusive in salads.

And there are more weeds to eat, flourishing where I let them grow in my garden.
A few years ago I discovered the tasty pleasure of adding a few leaves of herbs like lemon balm, bee balm, thyme, and basil. And oh yes! the johnny jumpups! They don’t have a lot of taste, but the flowers sure are pretty in with the other colors in the salad.

I’m not always a big fan of salads, but adding in these flowers and herbs makes the salad more appealing and flavorful, so I eat it much more readily.

2005