Looking back and looking forward

January is always a two-faced month. It’s hard to do otherwise, given the nature of the god, Janus, from whom the month takes its name. There are two schools of thought when it comes to looking back. One philosophy teaches that you cannot move forward effectively without learning the lessons of the past, whilst the other recommends moving forwards and releasing what is left behind lest you carry it on your shoulders for eternity. Both ways of thinking have their merits and, like everything in life, a balanced approach to both of them should support an onward journey.

For me, 2013 felt as if my life had been put on hold because of my mother’s continuing deterioration. For the first six months she had two hospital admissions, each time becoming more debilitated. Then in July she suffered another ischaemic episode and became bedridden. Thankfully there have been carers brought in to manage her physical care four times a day which my father has to pay for. I provide the majority of their food so they can continue with a diet they enjoy and we visit at least once a fortnight to enable my father to leave the premises if he wishes.

This has meant there has been no time to physically tend the Sanctuary since my time at the farm is taken up with cooking, feeding, washing clothes and sitting with my mother. The workshops have continued once a month and they have been my only opportunity to spend time with my herbs. The 2013 apprentices all started off with great enthusiasm in January but had all disappeared to lead their own lives by the end of June, apart from one, who is a continuing joy to have around. Their lack of physical commitment to the Sanctuary was a great disappointment and as a result none of the herb beds were properly weeded or managed and the field plants have begun to take back the land wrestled from them over the past years.

It’s not all been doom and gloom. New people have emerged and given their time to help cut down trees and overhanging branches. Although the festival in September was poorly attended, new friendships were forged and those who came were deeply moved by the experience and are looking forward to this coming year. For me, the most positive issue to emerge from the festival was the request from a local beekeeper to keep her new hives at the Sanctuary something I have been trying to achieve for ten years!

So, what new things happened during 2013?

Flower essence

I was asked to write an article for Herb Geek on favourite summer recipes and as a result, I created two new cordials, rose and mint, which have been very popular at family celebrations and social gatherings and there are still bottles in my freezer. This inspired me to create further hot winter cordials using the surfeit of cooking apples on my garden tree – spiced apple and apple and rosehip, which were both a great success.

Some of you will be aware of my writing exploits. I belong both to my local Solihull Writers’ Workshop, which has a set annual programme and to the Pub Club sub-group where we read and critique newly emerging novels. Writing is an emotional task, full of peaks and valleys. Sometimes the dark times are hard to break through when the creative spark is missing.

One of our members was going through a bad patch when I read about the properties of peppermint flower essence which has a specific relationship with improving stuck mental creativity. This was in early September when most of my mints were flowering. It seemed the ideal time to make the essence which was subsequently given to group members as Christmas gifts.

Herbal Ally

My ally this year was Agrimony but I was very lax in getting to know this plant properly. I did move all the plants in my home garden into a designated bed and made my first double infused oil from their aerial parts at the end of summer. Although the plant appears to have no identifiable scent, the oil had a significant fragrance which really surprised me. Matthew Wood uses goldenseal and agrimony together for pain due to tightness, so I extrapolated his use to create a salve for constricting muscles by joining the agrimony oil with St John’s wort. I am waiting to hear how the recipient got on with her remedy.

I also used agrimony tincture as part of a personal tonic to try and clear up some bowel issues associated with stress. Things did improve but I should really have tried the plant alone rather than mixing it with other nervines. It’s hard to make your own medicines and take them when you’re suffering with overwhelming stress!

Ashwagandha

Ashwagandha was the subject of my last blog post but is included here because I have been able to undertake several new plant products this year, notably a ground root honey, a root tincture and a cordial with nettle and rose.

Ashwagandha cherries are used as bitters. It makes sense for a plant which is renowned for its stress relieving properties to act upon the digestive system.  For other parts of the plant to also be bitter is not surprising. This was born out by the extreme bitterness of a tea made from stems. I may try making this again using less plant matter and see how much of a difference it makes.

Educational activities

Although there has been no income this year from herb-related articles, I have delivered two talks to new organisations. The first was Finstall and Coughton Hackett WI where the members enjoyed making and tasting hawthorn-related products as part of their Hedgerow Herbs talk. The second was just before Christmas when I talked about Herbs and Honey to the Solihull Beekeepers Association. The latter request came a discussion at my stall at the Solihull Go Green Faire in June (fairly disastrous in terms of general public interest since there were very few visitors!) which was situated opposite the Beekeepers’ exhibition. Again, members sampled infused honeys, herbal tea, oxymel and elixirs and several asked for the handout to be emailed to them later.

I also started a new part-time activity teaching singing to four and five year-olds in a nearby infant school. For three hours every Tuesday during term time we sing nursery rhymes and play circle games (60 nursery children in 4x 15min blocks) and sing seasonal songs and folk songs and practice rhythm (90 reception children in 3x 30 minute blocks).

Elixir

My elixirs are often unique productions because the herbs infused together always change. At the beginning of the year Chris suffered with a dreadful cough and the sage and thyme elixir was the only medicine which seemed to help. The original elixir was made in 2010 and the bottle was almost empty so by the end of October, it was time to create a new one from the remaining healthy gardenplants before the frost came. The new elixir comprised purple sage, lemon and flat-leafed thyme, marshmallow leaves and a few hyssop strands. Thankfully it has not been road tested yet but I hope it will be as effective as the last one.

International Mentorship Scheme

For several years I’ve been a member of the Down to Earth Forum where I’m known as a herbwife. Most of the members live in the southern hemisphere so could never become full apprentices. It seemed sensible to offer a long distance mentorship scheme to encourage people to learn more about herbs, especially those growing in their locality. There are currently twenty-one people from Europe, US, South America and Australia sharing their herbal experiences.

Family members

Our daughter, Kathryn, became engaged on Christmas Day 2012 so there has been great excitement choosing a wedding venue and her dress. The date is set for 6 May 2014 and our grandson, James, will be a pageboy.

James had a new brother on 7 November, Thomas Daniel. He slept through the entire home birth while Chris and I were hidden away in the upstairs bedroom until everything was cleared away and we could emerge for a cup of tea and cuddles. Their mother, Laura, is amazing and Thomas has gained over three pounds in his first seven weeks. He’s a very long, strong, happy baby.

Looking forward to 2014

Apprenticeship

Eight new women have joined the apprenticeship to make nine in total. Three have already been workshop attenders and understand the challenges of the Sanctuary. Several are making commitments to travel long distances to attend events and I hope it all works out for them. I am looking forward to watching them grow and develop.

Herb Festival

This year’s Celebrating Herb Festival has been brought forward to the last weekend of August. We are hoping this date change will enable more people to attend. For the first time we are offering a special creative writing intensive on the Friday afternoon where authors and poets can showcase their creations during the evening’s Open Mic session. The workshop will be led by the wonderful Charlie Jordan.

Herbal Ally

My ally for this coming year is ashwagandha. It amazes me how much there is to learn about this plant so I want to spend time increasing my knowledge and understanding.

Books

Henriette Kress very kindly sent me a copy of her Practical Herbs 2 Book which I am intending to read and review here shortly. I also received “Every day herbs in spiritual life” by  Michael J Caduto as a Christmas present so I’m looking forward to reading this and adding to my energetic and ritual knowledge. Then, of course, there is “The Herbwife’s Apprentice” which I started writing early last year and came to a complete halt about March. I fully intend to start it up again and have the first draft ready for the festival with frameworks for Years 2 and 3.

Workshops and workdays

We’re looking forward to welcoming both new friends and old to our monthly workshops held here in Solihull and at the Sanctuary in the Cotswolds. No matter what else happens in the world around us there will always be herbs to guide and support us.

Tonics: a lesson in trust and sufficiency from rose

Two days ago I received an email from one of my new apprentices asking what I would recommend as a tonic she could give to her patients. Her question inspired me to write a blog post which I began yesterday.

Tonic is one of those words which you think you know, but when you take time to consider its meaning, the totality escapes you.

When I’m confused I usually turn to Jim MacDonald’s website because he has such a wealth of information and he puts things in ways which can be easily understood.

Browsing through his terms, I found he had written, “"Tonic" is a dreadfully problematic term, because it has so many meanings and can be applied in so many different ways. Really, without using an adjective to qualify what kind of tonic it is, the noun "tonic" is close to useless. To be practical, most people intend to convey that a tonic is an herb that builds up your energy and health and is good for you.”

Jim then went on to quote from a draft copy of Matthew Wood’s Practice of Traditional Western Herbalism, saying that it offered one of the better definitions of the word “tonic”, in that it allowed for all the different manifestations this vague category may take. I looked through my copy of Wood’s book, but I couldn’t find the definition, so I was especially grateful for Jim’s note.

Matt Woods wrote, “A tonic is usually an herb or food that acts on the body in a slow, nutritive fashion to build up the substance of the body. In this sense, the term "tonic" might be considered synonymous with "trophorestorative". It can also be defined as a substance which (like an astringent) restrains loss from the body by "toning" tissues.”

He offers the following categories tonics may fall into: Bitter tonics are used to strengthen and nourish the liver and metabolism (mostly alteratives,), Sweet tonics act primarily on the immune system and adrenals (adaptogens). Oily tonics supply fixed oils and essential fatty acids to tissues to ensure hydration, cell permeability and to prevent atrophy. Mineral tonics provide essential minerals, and sour tonics are rich in bioflavinoids. Protein tonics are rich in protein.

I then turned to Kiva Rose Hardin’s blog and searched for tonics. The first articles offered two tonics, one for the heart made from Choke Cherries and another made from the wild rose.

Chokecherry Heart Tonic
1/4 C Chokecherry bark or bark/flower tincture
1/2 C Chokecherry fruit concentrate or syrup (possibly more if your concentrate isn’t strong tasting, ours is very intense and flavourful but the stuff you get from stores is often tasteless and terribly sweet and just don’t work for this)
1 C Brandy
Sugar/honey to taste (very optional, just depends on your syrup and sense of taste)
1/4 tsp of Cinnamon tincture (or a good pinch of powdered cinnamon)
1 tsp Ginger infused honey (or just add a good pinch of fresh grated ginger)
Generous splash of Merlot or Elderberry mead (optional)
Mix together in pint jar and shake well, allow to age for at least a month. This stuff is strong and somewhat mind-altering (in a relaxing kind of way), so use in small doses. It’s an excellent heart strengthener for people with signs of inflammation, high blood pressure, heart palpitations and general heat symptoms.

Choke cherries don’t grow over here and I’ve never seen them in the shops, which is disappointing because the recipe looks delicious. I’m wondering if I could substitute hawthorn instead or if my hawthorn berry brandy liqueur would be a good alternative.

Hawthorn Liqueur
To a jar full of infused hawthorn berry brandy, add 1 grated nutmeg, one cinnamon stick (crumbled), the chopped peel of one orange, 4 cloves and ½-1 cup full of sugar or honey. Seal the jar with a screw top lid, place in a warm, dark place for 8 weeks shaking regularly, then strain and pour into a sterile bottle. Seal the bottle with a screw top lid or cork and leave in a cold dark place to mature for as long as possible (at least two years).

Wild Rose Tonic
First, make a half pint of infused honey with finely chopped, de-seeded fresh wild rose hips, plus 1 tsp grated fresh ginger, 1 tsp. grated fresh orange peel and 1/4 tsp cardamom. Let infuse for one month, do not strain.
Then:
1 C spiced Wild Rose hip honey (as seen above)
3 Tbs Wild Rose petal tincture (or more, as desired for flavour)
1 C Brandy or Cognac
Mix together in a pint jar and shake well, allow to age for at least one month. This cordial/tonic is relaxing, uplifting and wonderful as a heart tonic, nervine, anti-inflammatory and bioflavanoid rich blood tonic. For a real treat, make a small cup of half Chokecherry Heart Tonic and half Wild Rose Tonic.

When I read through the Wild Rose Tonic, something strange happened. I knew I needed to make the spiced rosehip honey. I made rosehip honey nearly three years ago by liquidising freshly gathered rosehips with runny honey. It tasted delicious, but the seeds were a pain. I wanted to make the honey this year using de-seeded rosehips, but when I gathered my hips from the Sanctuary rosebush after the festival, I didn’t have the energy to sit down and de-seed, so everything ended up in some glorious spiced rosehip and sloe cordial.

(Just a small aside, if you ask an American what they mean by a cordial, they will describe it as fruit preserved in alcohol and a small amount of sugar to be used in drinks or poured over other fruit/ice cream. If you ask me what I mean by a cordial, I will tell you it is made using the same method as a syrup, but a cordial is made for diluting and drinking either hot or cold, whereas a syrup is thicker and can be medicinal or eaten by the spoonful. No alcohol is involved.)

The sun was shining accompanied by an icy wind, so armed with a basket, secuteurs, gloves and wellies I set off for the Friary field around the corner from our house. The original four acres owned by the Friary was half developed for housing on the understanding that the remainder was available for the public. I go there to harvest elderflowers in May/June, horsechestnut in August, late nettle seed and sloes in the winter.

The sloes were abundant. I spent a long time looking at them and was asked by a dog walker if I made sloe gin. It didn’t feel right to collect them, so I left them for the birds, thinking that if I want to make more spiced sloe cordial I can always come back in the new year.

There was only one dog rose bush I knew about and when I climbed to the top of the bank where it grows, there were no rosehips to be seen. Undismayed, I walked around the site noting the catkins of the hazel bushes, the tree still full of eating apples and the dessicated blackberries which no-one had picked. Next year I shall be taking my new herb group, Wolf’s Meadow, to learn the art of wildcrafting in season, so hopefully the blackberries won’t go to waste again.

Looking up into the hazel trees of an original hedge, I found my first rosehips. Only a few, but it was enough to make me trust I would find the amount I needed.
As I wandered through woodland, I found myself singing carols to the holly trees while I gathered some berry-bright twigs to grace my Solstice willow garland before I headed off into bramble strewn wilderness exploring parts I’d never visited before.

If you are constantly seeking a safe way through brambles, your eyes are on the ground. I saw some dead rose briars in my path and followed them to a large bush. I talked to the bush for a few minutes, noting the thickness of the briars and the unusual red hue of the bark. I couldn’t see any rosehips, but was told to go around the other side and keep looking up.

It wasn’t a large harvest, but it was sufficient. The rosehips were huge – three times the size of the tiny hips on my Sanctuary bush. There was even a dogrose flower blooming in the bitter cold – a remnant from the unseasonably warm weather we’ve been having recently.

Back home in the warm, the large hips were easy to slice in half and de-seed, but it did take a long time. I learned why it is better to delay harvesting until the hips are soft – if you squeeze the hip carefully, the entire ball of seeds and hairs can be removed through the end of the hip, leaving only the soft casing behind.

I chopped the rosehips in my grinder as I wanted them small enough to enrich the honey. The cardamoms were ground there too, but I suspect I added a whole teaspoonful rather than one quarter! I wasn’t sure how much a teaspoonful of orange peel might be so I grated a whole orange peel and nearly an inch of root ginger.

When the honey was poured on and the mixture stirred, I have to admit to licking the spoon. The taste was divine and I can’t wait until four weeks’ time when I can start making up the tonic with dog rose petal tincture and brandy.

Later yesterday evening as I sat knitting small presents for my children, I thought back on what I’d done during the day. I realised how grateful I was to be no longer working for an employer, giving me time to follow my instincts which let me trust I would find what was needed in the place I’d chosen to visit.

Roses in summer

There is something very special about roses in summer. Their deep scent transports us to a place of warm sunshine, peace and tranquillity; memories of carefree times amid beautiful surroundings.

My childhood roses grew in my grandmother’s garden and in hedgerows. My parents had no time in their busy lives nor inclination to grow plants with thorns which needed care and attention. It wasn’t until I went away to secondary school and lived with a family opposite the school that I discovered the joys of cultivated roses. The father cherished his roses, bringing a single bud to place on the mantelpiece above the fireplace in the living room so everyone could stop and smell the perfume as they passed by. I watched yellow, pink or red buds open into flowering glory, before being replaced by a new bud when petals faded.

When we moved into our house in 1981, the garden was a weed-free rose haven, with roses climbing over every fence. It was too much for us to look after. The previous owners were retired, the wife having never worked outside the home, so they had plenty of time to lavish on both home and garden. Our priorities were different, with both of us working, then bringing up three children. The flower beds receded to give the children more room to play and now only two ancient plants remain from those we originally inherited.

My interest in roses began in 2004 when I ordered an apothecary’s rose (rosa gallica) from Poyntzfield Herb nursery. I had to wait until the following year for it to bloom, but it was worth it. I was dazzled by the glorious colour and rich scent. The poor bush had to contend with being browsed by rabbits, sheep and deer during its first few years, but I noticed last year the runners were not like those of other roses, they all flowered. It has grown into a good size bush and this year bloomed a whole month earlier than usual, June rather than July.

Working with rose petals began in 2008, when I spent a delicious hour late one Friday evening collecting dog rose petals from along my parent’s lane. I climbed over gates into our next door neighbour’s field to harvest petals from the largest bushes, noticing how the colour changed from pink to white on different briars. The best pictures were taken the following Sunday when I risked barriers of nettles to gather from other briars near our old barn. It was one of the few dry weekends of the summer and I was desperate to gather elderflowers and rose petals while I could.

We used the dog rose petals during the Saturday workshop to make tincture, vinegar and to dry for future teas. When I returned home, I made my first rose infused honey, which still retains its subtle fragrance even now.

Later on in the summer I begged red rose petals from my friend’s garden in Sheffield. These yielded an amazing ruby cider vinegar with a truly awesome flavour which we played with during a vinegar workshop in November. Mixed with a light, sunflower oil and soaked up on crusty French sticks, it made a unique starter to lunch.

Nearly all my dogrose briars were decimated at the end of last year by the new tenant of my father’s fields. His brief to tidy all the farm hedgerows lead to total obliteration of many tree tops and bramble hedges. It needed doing and looks much better in many ways, but I shall have to wait several years before I can gather dogroses in such profusion from the same place again.

Luckily, work took me to Northumberland towards the end of June this year. I hoped the northern latitude would mean dogroses would be flowering later than in the Midlands. As we drew into our first caravan site on the Whitehouse Farm Centre in Stannington just outside Morpeth, I was delighted to see a wealth of bushes showing pale and bright pink flowers. While Chris recovered from the six hour drive, I took my gathering basket and explored the grounds of the first children’s sanatorium in the UK.

Nothing is left of the original buildings except the electricity substation, although a sign on a tree still reads “Dangerous buildings”. What really annoyed me and local inhabitants was that the top soil from the land was dragged off into mounds many years ago in readiness for building houses. This has never happened, so the field lies sterile and unusable, only a few hardy weeds growing in barren soil.

It seemed ironic that the most prolific plants were coltsfoot and dog roses – both with ancient associations with treating deep seated lung conditions – yet ignored by the medical enthusiasts who set up their fresh air wards with an open-air school where children were expected to learn in icy temperatures during the winter and snow drifted onto verandas which housed the beds of young patients during daylight hours. Despite the sometimes harsh physical conditions, the sanatorium boasted an 80% success rate. This may have been due in part to the good food and fresh air given to poverty stricken children from the slums of Newcastle.

Food was grown by the neighbouring farm colony, also established by the Poor Children’s Holiday Association, where local poor children, mainly boys, were taught farming and horticultural skills. Many of the children were dispersed to “the colonies” in Australia and Canada.

I was surprised to find another briar rose (rosa rubiginosa) in the Northumbrian hedgerows. The petals were smaller and deeper pink, but I knew the properties were similar to rosa canina, so I picked as much as I could from bushes in Stannington and those lining the car park to Walkworth beach. It was incredibly soothing to walk across the sand dunes to look at the calm North Sea, then pick as many petals as I could before the heavens opened! I put all the petals to dry on kitchen towel in one of the shelves in the caravan. Now they are safely put them away in a glass jar in the larder waiting to be added to elderberry elixir in the autumn..

Since our return from Northumberland, I feel as if I have been knee-deep in rose petals. This time from the apothecary’s rose and my new William Shakespeare rose which is blooming in a pot on the patio.

I scoured the garden to find young nettles hiding amidst the broad beans and soft fruit bushes to make the 1935 Famers Weekly recipe, Nettle Syrup.

“Gather the tops of young nettles, wash well. To every 1lb nettles add 1pt of cold water until all juice is extracted, then strain. To this liquid add ¾ lb white sugar and petals of seven red roses. Simmer gently for 15 minutes. Strain free of petals and boil until syrup thickens, when it will be a rich red colour. Pour into clean, dry, warmed jars and seal very securely. To make a good drink, put a teaspoonful into a milk beaker and dissolve it in a tablespoonful of boiling water. When cold, fill up with milk. This is an excellent cure for sore throats and is also a splendid pick me up.”

The means to make this syrup has eluded me for several years as it seemed impossible to gather young nettle tops from the first spring growth at the same time as roses, since they are at least 4 months apart, unless the writer is talking about a second crop of nettles.

I also couldn’t make head or tail of the sentence “To every 1lb nettles add 1pt of cold water until all juice is extracted.” It’s not like adding sugar to rhubarb and leaving overnight to extract the juice through osmosis! This time, I wanted to get as many water-based constituents from the nettles as I could, because the syrup is destined for a friend who has just finished her fourth bout of chemotherapy, so I decocted it for 20 minutes, then left it covered overnight in the saucepan aka Susun Weed. Then I strained it and left it in the fridge during the day while I was at work until I returned home and could find the time to finish it.

The resulting liquid was very dark green. I suspect what I should have done was make a cold water overnight maceration producing a pink coloured liquid, which would then have turned deep red from the rose petals as per the recipe. My syrup was very dark, but did have a deep red colour if you poured it against a bright light. There is also a subtle rose scent and none of the usual earthy nettle aroma.

I also rediscovered a recipe for Greek Rose Syrup, Tyrandafilo Glyko, posted on Susun Weed’s forum by Saint Francesca.

4 cups red Rose petals (though scented pink petals will do), with the white ends removed (I only had 3 roses available so added ten heads of flowering lavender)
3 cups sugar
1 cup water
juice of 1 lemon
Place lemon juice, sugar and water together in a suitable saucepan (preferably heat toughened glass or enamel. Not aluminium!). Bring to the boil, stirring as it heats to dissolve the sugar before it begins to boil. Simmer over a low heat for 15 minutes to make a syrup. Remove from the heat and cool. (I poured the syrup into a plastic bowl with a lid and cooled in a water bath in the sink for half an hour.) Add the petals to the syrup and leave for at least five to six hours or preferably overnight. Return to the stove and bring quickly to the boil. Simmer for five minutes. Remove from the heat and either strain the liquid through a sieve into warmed sterilized jars or bottles, or leave the petals in the syrup and bottle. Seal when completely cold and store in the refrigerator. The Greeks do not usually strain this preparation. The traditional manner of taking this restorative syrup is to dissolve 1¬ - 2 teaspoons in a glass of cold water and give it to the weary traveller.

The syrup is possibly the most beautiful preparation I have ever made. The flavour is subtle and a sheer delight to sip slowly in a glass of cold water while resting.

There is so much to learn from rose. It is a plant which can be used to cool conditions involving heat from any part of the body both internally and externally, whether the heat arises from infection e.g. tuberculosis, vaginal yeast infections, insect bites or an auto-immune inflammation such as arthritis. It is also astringent and has been used for such conditions as dysentery and excessive nose bleed.

Mathew Woods in his Earthwise Herbal says it is used for acute inflammatory conditions of the respiratory tract, including sore throat, free secretion or obstruction of the nose and bronchi. It is also a remedy for chronic inflammation and is indicated in “the weakness of convalescence, old age and delicate children”. He says rose also acts on heat in the digestive tract, including diarrhoea and stubborn inflammatory conditions. He recommends rose petal waters, lotions and baths be used to cure arthritis associated heat.

Maurice Messegue, the French herbalist, recommends rose to counteract the damage done by antibiotics on the intestinal flora.

Kiva Rose Hardin has written several fascinating articles on rose. She uses it to “ease the itch of mosquito bites and other hot, itchy things”. She also uses it for lung congestion irritability, tension, respiratory heat and general feeling of overheatedness and anxiety. Her favourite rose medicine is an elixir, where petals and leaves are steeped in a mixture of honey and brandy, then macerated for 4-6 weeks before straining or sometimes leaving the plant material in the menstrum. Doseage is one dropperful every half hour or so.

She also uses rose infused honey and vinegar to treat burns – the honey being especially useful where the burn appears to be infected. Last year I made up her recipe for burn honey using apothecary’s rose petals, flowers from evening primrose and bergamot flowers. The scent is amazing. The honey is less sweet than when pure and has a more runny consistency which would be ideal for smearing over open skin.

Possibly the most helpful thing about roses, like plantain, is that you can use any species to achieve the same effect. It doesn’t matter if you only have access to dog roses in hedgerow or copse, apothecary’s rose in the garden or rosa rugosa in a boundary hedge, their properties remain the same. They are the ideal plant for summer and I look forward to working with them even more closely in the years to come.