There’s no feeling like watching a bumble bee on flowering st johns wort or a giant sunflower; radiating the pure joy of doing what comes naturally, of things going right, of the natural abundance of summer and the flowering season.
the common weed st johns wort is known for its healing ability, and pollinators love it too.
Fleeting, magical moments.
This week the sun was shining just before the wildfire smoke blew in. Calendula stood nodding in the morning sun.
calendula is used for it’s healing power in skin and tea remedies
Wood betony, covered in happy pollinators and graceful in the morning light, looked magical. Mint grew tall, absolutely at large and threatening a takeover of the garden, it’s soft leaves rising into the sun and flanked by a regiment of lemon balm.
Wood betony is a perennial herb used as a nervine. Graceful purple spires of flowers bloom in July in the Northeast of America.
So I joined the bees and their pollinator friends in the garden, collecting calendula, wood betony, peppermint, plantain, and lemon balm to dry for teas.
Many people have asked me how to make salve, so I thought I’d revisit an old post that details how to make an all purpose healing salve. The same process can be used for a simpler salve of just calendula or any infused oil.
In this salve we’ll use a blend of st john’s wort flowers, comfrey leaf, and calendula flowers.
calendula flowers are healing for the skin and the gut
Popular for its healing properties and lovely color, calendula is often an ingredient in salves. Cuts, bruises, stings, and abrasions all benefit from this herb, which stimulates blood flow to the surface of the skin. Infuse it in oil by filling a jar with the fresh flowers, covering in olive oil, and setting in the sun for a few weeks. Instructions here.
St John’s wort, widely considered a weed, helps to heal the skin and is used to treat depression
Saint John’s wort is a traditional remedy for wound treatment. Known for accelerating tissue regeneration, repairing nerve damage and reducing scarring.
Comfrey is mineral rich and can help heal the skin quickly
An extremely active wound healer, comfrey is rich in allantoin, which is a constituent that speeds the proliferation of new skin cells. An excellent burn remedy, it’s also used fresh as a poultice for sprains, stings, and even bone breaks.
To make the salve, create the infused oils and then combine with with beeswax:
1 part st. john’s wort leaf and flower
1 part comfrey leaf
1 part calendula flowers
olive oil (or sunflower oil)
beeswax
salve ingredients
Step 1: Place each of the herbs in a glass jar and cover with 1-2 inches of olive oil. Place in a sunny window and let infuse for 2-3 weeks (I have left mine a little longer). Strain and rebottle. label and date.
Step 2: To make the salve strain the oil. For each cup of herbal oil add 1/4 cup beeswax. heat the oil and beeswax together over very low heat to melt the beeswax. The beeswax will thicken as it cools.
you can use a double boiler like this to make salve
To check for firmness do a quick consistency test: place 1 tablespoon of the mixture in the freezer for a minute or two. Check to be sure its the firmness you want; for harder salve, add more beeswax, for softer salve, add more oil.
When you are happy with the consistency of the salve remove from heat and pour into glass jars or tins. Store in a cool dry place.
This little thyme plant is a cutting from one of my garden plants. A joyful little being in my kitchen window, it gives me a warm feeling in my heart to see it there leaning toward the winter sun. It’s getting leggy and could use a trim to encourage a fuller, bushier look.
Thyme is culinary, medicinal, and ornamental. Aromatic, warming, and delicious, it’s stimulating for digestion and makes an amazing steam to treat cold and flu. Soothing, safe for adults and kids, it helps prevent respiratory infections.
And it’s adorable. Look at those precious little leaves.
It’s also easy to grow. To bring my little friend inside, I just took a snipping of one of my plants, dipped it in rooting hormone purchased at a garden center, and popped it into moist potting soil. I kept it moist in the window while it established some roots and voila! In the garden it likes a moist sunny spot.
That may seem a little provocative but this is a concrete statement I’m prepared to stand behind. I’ve never met a plant that did more for people during the night than Passionflower.
Sure, Valerian helps you sleep… but Passionflower quiets the night-time ruminating, worrying, anxious, and repetitive thoughts that are so common for people. Categorized as sedative, nervine and anti-spasmodic, Passiflora incarnata is a perennial native to the southeastern US, and the flowers and fruits are the medicinal parts of this plant.
People for whom I’ve recommended it say things like “the best night’s sleep I’ve had in as long as I can remember,” and “wow the Passionflower is awesome!” For my part, I can say that when I take passionflower tincture or a capsule before bed I reliably sleep much more soundly than I do without it. My mind is calm. Also, I am prone to grinding my teeth at night and the passionflower eases that noticeably, too.
There’s more to passionflower than its bed-time virtues. Great for over-active and anxious minds it can be taken during the day, too, to help with anxiety. But I think that Passionflower’s super power is it’s ability to calm the mind for sleep.
I’ll leave it there for now, except to note that I’ve seen in some recent literature that Passionflower isn’t recommended for people who take beta-blockers, or for young children. On reviewing this in the American Herbal Products Association’s Botanical Safety Handbook, though, no safety precautions are reported with the exception of some people reporting allergies to Passionflower.
Safe, effective, and sure to support a better night’s sleep – a pretty good bed partner, wouldn’t you agree?
The content presented here is for informational and educational purposes only and does not substitute professional medical advice with healthcare professionals.
This is no ordinary plant. You might say “well, Kirsti you think all plants are special,” and that’s true. But I have a real love affair going with this one.
Overwhelm is a real thing in our society. We all know the feeling of a too-long to-do list. And the overly full chest, overly heavy feeling that accompanies difficulty focusing in the face of a long list of tasks. And the anxiety that accompanies that has a way of setting in and staying.
Motherwort, pictured here, is widely used to truly calm that kind of anxiety in just such moments. A few drops of the tincture under the tongue definitely chases the feeling of overwhelm away. It’s legendary, used also in blood pressure remedies, to strengthen the cardiovascular system, and as support for premenstrual and menopause symptoms. If I had only known about it years ago, I could have eased many years of intense premenstrual cramps.
Just the other day I was out walking with a clinical herbalist, Stephan Brown, in his garden here on the cape. I’ve been taking motherwort tincture for months, originally to help with my blood pressure, I soon learned it benefits my mental state, as well.
But I have never seen the plant growing and I could not have identified it if it jumped up and slapped me in the head.
Knowing nothing about me or the remedies I favor, Stephan plucked a stem of motherwort from a nearby plant and presented it with a flourish. Herbalists and plants are both naturally psychic. There’s no getting around it.
square stems of the lamiaceae; motherwort has an especially strong stem
I went back today to gather some with his permission. A member of the mint family with the characteristic square stem of that species, you can see the shape in the picture above, making it easy to identify.
The lovely leaves are drying now, which means I can make my own bottle of tincture. Pure magic.
With so much bad news all around us, especially in Gaza, before that Ukraine, and in the middle east for so long, it’s been challenging to focus on simple things, like a garden. To the point of it feeling irrelevant and even silly to focus on such an ordinary small thing. I’ve felt guilt at not making this horrible news more central in my life. And yet, I’m not there, there is little any of us can do beyond pray, sympathize, donate, commiserate. And this beautiful planet, devastated by the blasts just as her children (us humans, animals, plants- everything) are – suffers, too. So I do the things I can do, honor the life that arises here, and try not to let anxiety prevail.
So a story about time passing here.
My 19 year old daughter Inga got a summer job at a local med spa working the front desk. She started applying for summer jobs in April, interviewed remotely, and was offered this job before her final exams started. She was thrilled. She’d worked with the software they use and had done exactly this job last summer. She was especially happy because she wants to work as an injector when she finishes school, all goodness spring from beauty as it does 😉 and so a med spa would be good experience for her.
The night before her first day of work, which was scheduled for last week, she received an email from the med spa owner saying she’d given the position to someone else who can work year-round and that Inga didn’t “need to visit.” Inga hadn’t been aware they were (still) looking for someone for the job, or that they wanted a year round person. She was crushed.
I told her (in a more confident tone than I felt) that it was early enough in the season that she would find something else, and that she was better off. Who would want to work for someone that would behave that way, anyway? She saw the reason in my words and went back to job hunting. This went on for weeks and she had very few call backs and started to feel “helpless.” Most kids had secured summer jobs in April.
Then there was an offer to interview as … a jet ski guide. I laughed. Perfect for Inga who is spirited, athletic, and adventurous, and who has vowed in past summers to someday own a jetski because she thinks they are great fun. Yesterday she was offered the job with tips into the hundreds of dollars on the busiest (long) days… a small example of how sometimes things don’t go the way we hope, want, and expect them to, but somehow they work out.
Inga last summer
And, returning to the garden.
I’ve been wandering out to my herb garden every day to see if I could spot a sign of my echinacea angustifolia. Echinacea A. is the variety of echinacea most prized for it’s infection fighting power. I’ve read it’s a little harder to cultivate than purpurea, which, admittedly, is usually pretty easy going. But there hasn’t been a sign of it germinating and I was beginning to think it won’t happen this year…
Until today!
tiny echinacea angustifolia seedling leaves poke up through the dirt
I hope and pray every day for things to come right, for healing, for the right outcomes, for people and planet to find balance, acceptance, equanimity, and well-being. May we all have a hand in creating peace and presence where and when we can, remembering to be. Not to be this or that. But just to be.
Aloe is popular. You can buy it in most garden shops, I’ve even seen it for sale at the grocery store! It’s beautiful, easy to grow, and it’s medicine! Most folks know it’s great pain relief for a sunburn, and promotes rapid healing and tissue repair. It also has the same pH as our skin, and is a natural sunscreen.
You can make aloe vera gel at home very easily:
cut a firm leaf from your plant
slice it open (on a plate is best).
Use a tablespoon to scoop out the gel.
optionally, but this is really much nicer, puree it in a blender.
Goldenseal root, Hydrastis Canadensis, is an herb endangered in North America from over harvesting, seen here emerging from the forest floor in spring
The beauty you see pictured here is Goldenseal Root. It’s the medicinal herb you often see in the herbal remedies aisle combined with echinacea in cold care formulas. Incredibly valuable medicine, it was popular with Native Americans on the East Coast of the US, and they taught us a lot of what we know about it.
My first experience with Goldenseal Root was when I was a young professional living in South Boston. I left work one Wednesday evening just before Christmas, trudged through the cold, damp winter air of Cambridge, and boarded the T to head back to my apartment – and specifically my bed – in South Boston, knowing I was getting sick. I could feel it coming on – chills, body aches, sore throat. An acquaintance at work, seeing my pasty pallor, instructed me to stop on my way home to buy echinacea and goldenseal root capsules. She swore by them and was sure it would be worth my time and money to stop at the coop for them. I took her advice, in part because I had a date the Friday following for a holiday party that I did not want to miss, and in part because I was willing to take anything that might help.
No sooner had I arrived home, herbs in hand, than the fever and chills overwhelmed me. I crawled into bed with my bottle of echinacea and goldenseal, only half believing they would help at all. I think I took between 8 and 10 of the capsules with water before falling asleep – more than the recommended dose.
All night long the fever and body aches raged, I alternated between sweats and chills. But, when I awoke the next morning, I felt miraculously better. The fever was gone.
I’d never recovered from a flu-type virus so quickly and I was convinced I was better because of the herbs.
Goldenseal contains infection-fighting alkaloids and bitters, and can be used internally or externally to fight infection. I use it in cold care capsules to fight bronchial congestion. It can be used in salves to fight skin infections, fungal infections, and athlete’s foot, in eye washes for conjunctivitis and eye infections, and as a remedy for poison ivy or poison oak.
The most potent medicine is in Goldenseal’s roots. Because this beautiful plant has so much healing power it’s been harvested in the wild to the point of becoming threatened.
Last year, I bought some of the roots from United Plant Savers, a group that is committed to preserving native North American medicinal plants, and planted them in a forested section of our backyard. No care, other than not trampeling over them or letting the chickens scratch them up (which, god bless them, they would) was taken with them. They emerged after spring rains quite independently.
Aside from wonder, the site of these baby healing plants unfurling their lovely glossy leaves evoked gratitude and deep relief. There’s hope for us, yet!
Here in the Northeast winters usually feel endless to me. This year I started early. The Cape is a little warmer owing to being on the seashore, and I have some early start herbs I’m putting in. WOOOO!
Cape cod soil is pretty much what you’d expect … sand and clay. And lots of it. So we trucked in some planting soil and started clearing away vines and debris in a sunny spot to the west of the house.
It doesn’t look like much right now but it will be full of flowering herbs this summer! And we’ve found a local fence company to put in a garden fence for us – it’ll have to be dug into the ground to protect my precious gardens from rabbits and woodchucks. Two stories come to mind whenever I think about rabbits and woodchucks decimating my garden: Peter Rabbit and Caddyshack. You wouldn’t expect those two to go together, would you??
early herbs include chamomile, echinacea angustifolia, comfrey
And importantly, our friends the garlic shoots have made an appearance:
garlic emerging from a bed of leaves
Is this garlic shoot seriously not the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen?
chard and onions starting to grow in a seed starter mat.
Finally, the onions and kale I started early are coming along. I added a few leek seeds in later, to the right, and I’m waiting for those to germinate. Later this month it’ll be lettuce, broccoli and cauliflower.
I am dreaming of spring flowers and greens, and beach walks. Soon!
The fact that our gut biome greatly benefits from putting our hands in the dirt is probably one of the most meaningfully religious doctrines I know – and I have a graduate degree in religion, so I’m as serious as a heart attack about that.
I mention it here because this is about the time that I start to pare back my expectations for the year. I reserve the right to adjust my hopes back based on the amount of chicken poop and other compost I can gather! But here’s the early plan:
I plan to volunteer as a gleaner and grant writer for Farming Falmouth, too, and there aren’t enough hours in the day for everything, but again, this is a first ambitious draft.
Carrots, spinach, onions, cauliflower and (hidden) garlic in the bottom right, chamomile, beets, arugula, broccoli and radishes stop right corner, tomatoes, basil, swiss chard, beans, and calendula middle top and an assortment of winter squash top left. the middle rectangle is an imaginary patio that currently does not exist but could have our picnic table on it someday.
happy green beans in the garden
Not shown is an herb garden (bottom right, out a window to the right of the kitchen table) that will have many of my favorites – lemon balm, fennel, verbena, parsley, more chamomile (because who can have enough?), peppermint, monarch and hyssop for the pollinators (center because they are tall), some more sage, a rhubarb plant (also center), rosemary, lavender, bay leaves, lemongrass, tulsi, purple basil, asclepia for the monarda butterflies. And more flowers elsewhere including my favorite zinna and some marigolds because they just get along with everyone. The space will be big but that’s okay. Flanking this against the fence – a hedge of raspberries. What’s missing? Potatoes. We love them, we eat them, they aren’t here.
That said, we can get them at the local Pariah Farm farmstand. I welcome visitors and will gladly share what we grow.
Bespoke Herbals @ Backyard Botanics 