Several months ago, a random email appeared from a Californian publishing house. Would I like to read a copy of Transcendence by Norman E Rosenthal, M.D. If I were agreeable they would send two copies and maybe I could review the book for them.
Normally, I ignore random emails but this one intrigued me. I know the universe sends me books occasionally. The first was a book on bereavement from an online bookseller when I’d ordered one about dandelions. I offered to return it but they asked me to keep it in compensation for dispatching the wrong order. The second was a pink book of poetry left behind by a fellow passenger on a train. Transcendence is the third.
Norman Rosenthal is a South African by birth, but now holds the position of professor of clinical psychiatry at Georgetown Medical Centre with a private practice in Washington DC. His previous research has been in Seasonal Affected Disorder (SAD).
It seems strange that Dr Rosenthal’s life and my own have run parallel in several ways. When he was a young undergraduate in Cape Town in the early 1970s, he was invited to an introductory talk on Transcendental Meditation. He was interested but did not take the offer of paying a fee and learning more.
Halfway across the world, about twelve months later, I was sitting in a room at the Christian Union of Birmingham University listening to the same introductory talk, probably with a similar level of interest, but I did not feel able to take the next step, pay my dues and be given my mantra.
Both of us took a similar path towards mental health, Dr Rosenthal from the professional viewpoint whereas I was educated by service users spending sixteen years with my local MIND group, five years chairing the West Midlands Regional Council of MIND and five years as a Mental Health Act Lay Manager with a stint as Lay Chair of the Regional Appointments Committee for junior psychiatric doctors before they got fed up with my radical views and found someone more acceptable!
Where Dr Rosenthal has spent his professional life treating people who suffer from mental distress, I spent fourteen years monitoring our local mental health services from the viewpoint of the consumer. I watched the change from the old system to the introduction of a home treatment service and a radicle new approach using mainly psychology to help young people recover from early onset psychosis. Never let it be said deprived inner city Birmingham cannot herald ground-breaking national innovations! I even lectured about them to a Grand Round at Oregon State University Hospital in Portland when I was doing a study tour of diversion from custody in 1995.
Now, I offer support to those who suffer mental distress through my herbs and healing and I teach sessions on how the NHS mental health services work to carers and other support workers.
Dr Rosenthal did return to Transcendental Meditation (TM) and now faithfully meditates twice a day. His book is divided into four sections – Transcendence, Healing, Transformation and Harmony. Within each section he describes the introduction of TM into the West through the visits of the Beatles to Marashi Yogi in the 1960s, provides scientific research to show how TM affects the brain and then gives comprehensive examples of the positive effects of TM with groups and individuals everywhere from schools, to prisons and well known media stars.
It is a fascinating book. I was amazed how the simple act of reading brought on a state of calm which I really appreciated. It is not a book which makes you want to read from cover to cover in one go, but it is perfect for dipping in to whenever you have a spare moment.
Dr Rosenthal has an easy, lyrical style, explaining his points in a simple, digestible format. Points are well illustrated with case studies; each story making the learning more memorable. I was slightly disappointed that most of the case studies related to men rather than women, but I presume this was to emphasise that even hardened male criminals or schoolboy yobs growing up in the most disadvantaged and violent neighbourhoods can become relaxed, reformed, constructive members of society, fully able to take control of their own lives and futures.
I particularly found the research carried out in prisons and schools to be exciting and ripe with possibilities. The outcomes seemed so positive, I truly hope this book serves to publicise the potential of providing TM to the most disadvantaged groups, giving them opportunities currently beyond their grasp.
Personally, I felt the stories involving film producers and other media stars did not strengthen the book in any great way, although I can understand Dr Rosenthal wanting to show how TM can enhance creativity in those whose profession is mass entertainment. The inclusion of Russell Brand left a sour taste in my mouth after his distasteful escapades with Jonathan Ross on Radio 2, but I suspect Dr Rosenthal may not have been aware of his elder abuse on this side of the pond.
It is always a pleasure when a book brings me new information and ideas. Transcendence is such a book. The notes are constructive and highly informative as one would expect from an experienced professional with an acclaimed academic background, but this is not a book just for professionals. It should be welcomed by anyone who wants to know more about this practice.
I gave my second copy of the book to a friend who is a fellow writer. A painter and decorator by trade; he follows the Buddhist path and meditates daily. Like me, he was disappointed the book did not include a full disclosure of the TM technique, but Dr Rosenthal is faithful in keeping the secret of the “movement”. My friend was fascinated by the studies on brain activity and was looking forward to reading more about TM’s applications.
Tomorrow, I leave for Manchester and on Saturday I will fly into Dr Rosenthal’s home city, Washington D.C. In a perfect world, I would love to be able to offer Dr Rosenthal the experience of receiving healing and be able to discuss how this can also produce the state of transcendence he ascribes to TM. I have been very grateful for the opportunity to read his book and I wish him well as his words reach out across the world.
Transcendence: Healing and Transformation through Transcendental Meditation by Norman E Rosenthal, M.D. is published by Penguin at $14.74 and £12.18 from Amazon.
Thursday, 15 September 2011
Monday, 12 September 2011
Another successful festival!
It's always satisfying to see happy faces when you hold an event. This weekend was no exception. With herbs to gather from the fields and hedgerows then turn into medicines to take home, theory was turned into confident practice.
Springfield Sanctuary Festival is a relatively small festival, but this means we are able to share time, food and laughter. The weather made things very difficult, but it rained during talks when everyone was in the dry and the showers were short with lots of dryness and an incredible full moon!
For me, a festival is never about one thing. There has to be music and for Chris, there has to be kites. He and Dave Salmon, a fellow member of Sky Symphony display team performed the almost impossible - three kites flown by two people in a synchronised display! Dave was the wizard, not only controlling two kites but also calling the manoevres!
If you would like to see more about the weekend, please go to the Facebook album.
Springfield Sanctuary Festival is a relatively small festival, but this means we are able to share time, food and laughter. The weather made things very difficult, but it rained during talks when everyone was in the dry and the showers were short with lots of dryness and an incredible full moon!
For me, a festival is never about one thing. There has to be music and for Chris, there has to be kites. He and Dave Salmon, a fellow member of Sky Symphony display team performed the almost impossible - three kites flown by two people in a synchronised display! Dave was the wizard, not only controlling two kites but also calling the manoevres!
If you would like to see more about the weekend, please go to the Facebook album.
Tuesday, 23 August 2011
New garden poem over at Mercian Muse
If you fancy a quick tour of my summer garden in verse, hop over to Mercian Muse
Monday, 22 August 2011
Lady's mantle - a herb just for women or everyone?
For the past five months I have wanted to write a blog post about Lady’s mantle, ever since the plant emerged from the long, cold winter in a new and vibrant form. During this time, exciting pieces of information about her uses were brought to my attention which is usually a sure sign I should take closer notice and make a written record of what has been learned.
If you talk to someone about lady’s mantle they will usually comment on its structural beauty - the edges of the leaves resembling a cloak and about the perfect water droplets held in the deep cups of the leaves – giving rise to one of its common names as “Dewcup”.
According to American botanist, Ryan Drum, the 'dew' that collects on the tips of the leaves and in the well of the open leaves is actually a vascular secretion that rises up to the tips of the leave's margins at night, then rolls down into the cup to be reabsorbed in the late morning.
Heather Nic an Fhleisdeir, who runs the Scottish Academy of Herbal Medicine in Eugene, Oregon, says, “I've been using these vascular secretions (dew) for over a decade now directly on the surface of my eyes. As a vulnerary it is soothing to tired, dry and blood-shot eyes. One client used it on a broken capillary in the white of her eye that had been there for years. Within weeks of daily applications the capillary had disappeared.”
Mrs Grieve tells us that Lady's Mantle belong to the genus Alchemilla of the rose family, most of the members of which are natives of the American Andes, only a few being found in Europe, North America and Northern and Western Asia. In Britain, there are only three species, Alchemilla vulgaris, the Common Lady's Mantle, A. arvensis, the Field Lady's Mantle or Parsley Piert, and A. alpina, less frequent and only found in mountainous districts.
Mrs Grieve says, “The Common Lady's Mantle is generally distributed over Britain, but more especially in the colder districts and on high-lying ground, being found up to an altitude of 3,600 feet in the Scotch Highlands. It is not uncommon in moist, hilly pastures and by streams, except in the south-east of England, and is abundant in Yorkshire, especially in the Dales.”
The local abundance of Lady’s mantle is probably why Hill wrote in 1740, “The good women in the North of England apply the leaves to their breasts to make them recover their form after they have been swelled with milk.” This local use was subsequently proved by Matthew Wood in his practice showing how Lady’s Mantle “lifts tissue and structures that have been bogged down: sagging breasts after lactation and abdominal tissue following childbirth.”
Wood believes it is the presence of salicylates and tannins within the plant which enables the plant to be used to drive water from tissues that are damp and weak as well as strengthening fibres, bringing them back together into a health, toned condition.
The part of the plant used was originally the entire plant – aerial part and roots, but use of the roots has almost been forgotten as the overall use of the plant has changed from being a general “woodwort” to “a woman’s herb”. Mrs Grieve mentions that the fresh root was often employed.
Wood has written two useful sections on Lady’s mantle in his books, The Earthwise Herbal and The Book of Herbal Wisdom. He writes at length about the relationship between Lady’s mantle and the kidneys, showing how they both suck liquid from tissues as well as managing the concentration of fluids within individual cells. He says that the herb is indicated in “purulent discharges and infected passageways (e.g. ears, vagina) where there is pain”.
We have to turn to early herbalists to learn more about Lady’s Mantle’s use as a woundwort.
Culpepper says “Lady's Mantle is very proper for inflamed wounds and to stay bleeding, vomitings, fluxes of all sorts, bruises by falls and ruptures. It is one of the most singular wound herbs and therefore highly prized and praised, used in all wounds inward and outward, to drink a decoction thereof and wash the wounds therewith, or dip tents therein and put them into the wounds which wonderfully drieth up all humidity of the sores and abateth all inflammations thereof. It quickly healeth green wounds, not suffering any corruption to remain behind and cureth old sores, though fistulous and hollow.'”
William Salmon writing in 1710, says “It is amazing how Lady’s Mantle can restore the integrity of torn, ruptured or separated tissue as seen in hernias or perforated membranes. “
Wood gives two case histories where Lady’s Mantle restored a perforated ear drum and comments wryly that he believed it would also restore a damaged hymen, which was apparently one of its uses in folklore medicine.
David Hoffman sums up the use of Lady’s Mantle as a “woman’s herb”. He says, “Lady's mantle will help reduce pains associated with periods as well as ameliorating excessive bleeding. It also has a role to play in easing the changes of the menopause. As an emmenagogue it stimulates the proper menstrual flow if there is any resistance. However, in the often apparently paradoxical way of herbal remedies, Lady's mantle is a useful uterine astringent, used in both menorrhagia and metrorrhagia. Its astringency provides a role in the treatment of diarrhea and as a mouthwash for sores and ulcers and as a gargle for laryngitis.”
Lady’s mantle is normally taken as a tea or tincture made from plant material gathered in early summer. David Hoffman’s instructions are “Infusion: pour a cup of boiling water onto 2 teaspoonfuls of the dried herb and leave to infuse for l0-l5 minutes. This should be drunk three times a day. To help diarrhoea and as a mouthwash or lotion, a stronger dosage is made by boiling the herb for a few minutes to extract all the tannin. Tincture: take 1-2 ml of the tincture three times a day.
Matthew Wood prefers macerating the plant material in brandy rather than vodka and recommends a dose of 1-3 drops
Wood gives a much more detailed account of different mediums for administering Lady’s mantle, saying the most extensive information about various kinds of preparations in alcohol, vinegar, water, oil and salt comes from William Salmon. He used all forms internally, observing that the vinegar “..opened more and removes obstructions. … Taken continually all day, so that the amount equals at least four or five tablespoonfuls, It is a most excellent thing against a virulent Gonorrhea in Men.”
Andre Chevalier in his Encyclopaedia of Medicinal plants also quotes Andres de Laguna’s translation (1570) of Dioscorides’ Materia Medica which recommends two preparations of lady’s mantle – the root, powdered and mixed with red wine, for internal and external wounds, and an infusion of the aerial parts, for “greenstick” fractures and broken bones in babies and young children.
It was Karen Lawton, commenting on the Herb Society forum who mentioned Lady’s mantle’s energetic use. She said, “Ladies mantle connects to the whole history of the matriarchy - I use it a lot with patients who have unresolved issues with their mothers and grandmothers. If you observe the structure of the flowering plant you can see lots of differing delicate layers of depth. I harvest her and work with her with my daughter as I am trying not to pass on the female knots of my lineage to her!”
I think she may have picked up this use from Rosemary Gladstar, since Rosemary quotes from Peter and Barbara Theiss in her book, Herbal Healing for women, “Lady’s mantle is associated with the qualities of gentleness, elegance and grace in combination with powerful authority. If a woman finds difficulty in accepting a maternal role, is troubled by thoughts of abortion and suffers from morning sickness and other disorders during the first months of pregnancy, depression after birth and so on, Lady’s mantle is her herb.”
I was recently standing over my patch of Lady’s mantle with a newcomer to the Sanctuary who wanted something for a friend of hers who was experiencing heavy menstrual flooding at the same time as having to come to terms that she would probably never be able to experience motherhood in this lifetime. We picked some new leaves for her to make tincture for her friend. I shall wait to hear whether she finds it helpful.
Karen Lawton also shared a general women’s tonic she makes made from equal parts of raspberry leaf, nettles and Lady’s mantle. The dose is three drops three times a day. Her original recipe used a nettle syrup rather than a tincture and when I asked her why, her answer was that the syrup was what they had large amounts of at the time of creation and it seemed a good thing to add to the mixture!
Lady’s mantle was also used in a recipe for a hand lotion given by Lesley Bremnes on the Herb Society Forum some years ago.
Ingredients
30ml.glycerin 10 drops of essential oil of lemon, rose, geranium or sandalwood
10g carragheen moss dissolved in a little hot water
30ml strong infusion of lady’s mantle
60ml alcohol (Vodka)
Method
1 Stir the glycerin into the dissolved moss
2 Add the essential oil to the vodka mixing well, and then blend the two mixtures. Stir in the herbal infusion, blending well.
3 Pour in a screw-top jar and label. Shake before use if necessary.
I have to confess that I have never had the need to use Lady’s mantle myself, although I have the tincture in my larder and I have encouraged others to make the “women’s tonic” macerated either in vodka or vinegar. Studying the plant in more depth leads me to feel she could be a useful ally during difficult times in a woman’s life, but that her more ancient use as a woundwort should not be forgotten.
If you talk to someone about lady’s mantle they will usually comment on its structural beauty - the edges of the leaves resembling a cloak and about the perfect water droplets held in the deep cups of the leaves – giving rise to one of its common names as “Dewcup”.
According to American botanist, Ryan Drum, the 'dew' that collects on the tips of the leaves and in the well of the open leaves is actually a vascular secretion that rises up to the tips of the leave's margins at night, then rolls down into the cup to be reabsorbed in the late morning.
Heather Nic an Fhleisdeir, who runs the Scottish Academy of Herbal Medicine in Eugene, Oregon, says, “I've been using these vascular secretions (dew) for over a decade now directly on the surface of my eyes. As a vulnerary it is soothing to tired, dry and blood-shot eyes. One client used it on a broken capillary in the white of her eye that had been there for years. Within weeks of daily applications the capillary had disappeared.”
Mrs Grieve tells us that Lady's Mantle belong to the genus Alchemilla of the rose family, most of the members of which are natives of the American Andes, only a few being found in Europe, North America and Northern and Western Asia. In Britain, there are only three species, Alchemilla vulgaris, the Common Lady's Mantle, A. arvensis, the Field Lady's Mantle or Parsley Piert, and A. alpina, less frequent and only found in mountainous districts.
Mrs Grieve says, “The Common Lady's Mantle is generally distributed over Britain, but more especially in the colder districts and on high-lying ground, being found up to an altitude of 3,600 feet in the Scotch Highlands. It is not uncommon in moist, hilly pastures and by streams, except in the south-east of England, and is abundant in Yorkshire, especially in the Dales.”
The local abundance of Lady’s mantle is probably why Hill wrote in 1740, “The good women in the North of England apply the leaves to their breasts to make them recover their form after they have been swelled with milk.” This local use was subsequently proved by Matthew Wood in his practice showing how Lady’s Mantle “lifts tissue and structures that have been bogged down: sagging breasts after lactation and abdominal tissue following childbirth.”
Wood believes it is the presence of salicylates and tannins within the plant which enables the plant to be used to drive water from tissues that are damp and weak as well as strengthening fibres, bringing them back together into a health, toned condition.
The part of the plant used was originally the entire plant – aerial part and roots, but use of the roots has almost been forgotten as the overall use of the plant has changed from being a general “woodwort” to “a woman’s herb”. Mrs Grieve mentions that the fresh root was often employed.
Wood has written two useful sections on Lady’s mantle in his books, The Earthwise Herbal and The Book of Herbal Wisdom. He writes at length about the relationship between Lady’s mantle and the kidneys, showing how they both suck liquid from tissues as well as managing the concentration of fluids within individual cells. He says that the herb is indicated in “purulent discharges and infected passageways (e.g. ears, vagina) where there is pain”.
We have to turn to early herbalists to learn more about Lady’s Mantle’s use as a woundwort.
Culpepper says “Lady's Mantle is very proper for inflamed wounds and to stay bleeding, vomitings, fluxes of all sorts, bruises by falls and ruptures. It is one of the most singular wound herbs and therefore highly prized and praised, used in all wounds inward and outward, to drink a decoction thereof and wash the wounds therewith, or dip tents therein and put them into the wounds which wonderfully drieth up all humidity of the sores and abateth all inflammations thereof. It quickly healeth green wounds, not suffering any corruption to remain behind and cureth old sores, though fistulous and hollow.'”
William Salmon writing in 1710, says “It is amazing how Lady’s Mantle can restore the integrity of torn, ruptured or separated tissue as seen in hernias or perforated membranes. “
Wood gives two case histories where Lady’s Mantle restored a perforated ear drum and comments wryly that he believed it would also restore a damaged hymen, which was apparently one of its uses in folklore medicine.
David Hoffman sums up the use of Lady’s Mantle as a “woman’s herb”. He says, “Lady's mantle will help reduce pains associated with periods as well as ameliorating excessive bleeding. It also has a role to play in easing the changes of the menopause. As an emmenagogue it stimulates the proper menstrual flow if there is any resistance. However, in the often apparently paradoxical way of herbal remedies, Lady's mantle is a useful uterine astringent, used in both menorrhagia and metrorrhagia. Its astringency provides a role in the treatment of diarrhea and as a mouthwash for sores and ulcers and as a gargle for laryngitis.”
Lady’s mantle is normally taken as a tea or tincture made from plant material gathered in early summer. David Hoffman’s instructions are “Infusion: pour a cup of boiling water onto 2 teaspoonfuls of the dried herb and leave to infuse for l0-l5 minutes. This should be drunk three times a day. To help diarrhoea and as a mouthwash or lotion, a stronger dosage is made by boiling the herb for a few minutes to extract all the tannin. Tincture: take 1-2 ml of the tincture three times a day.
Matthew Wood prefers macerating the plant material in brandy rather than vodka and recommends a dose of 1-3 drops
Wood gives a much more detailed account of different mediums for administering Lady’s mantle, saying the most extensive information about various kinds of preparations in alcohol, vinegar, water, oil and salt comes from William Salmon. He used all forms internally, observing that the vinegar “..opened more and removes obstructions. … Taken continually all day, so that the amount equals at least four or five tablespoonfuls, It is a most excellent thing against a virulent Gonorrhea in Men.”
Andre Chevalier in his Encyclopaedia of Medicinal plants also quotes Andres de Laguna’s translation (1570) of Dioscorides’ Materia Medica which recommends two preparations of lady’s mantle – the root, powdered and mixed with red wine, for internal and external wounds, and an infusion of the aerial parts, for “greenstick” fractures and broken bones in babies and young children.
It was Karen Lawton, commenting on the Herb Society forum who mentioned Lady’s mantle’s energetic use. She said, “Ladies mantle connects to the whole history of the matriarchy - I use it a lot with patients who have unresolved issues with their mothers and grandmothers. If you observe the structure of the flowering plant you can see lots of differing delicate layers of depth. I harvest her and work with her with my daughter as I am trying not to pass on the female knots of my lineage to her!”
I think she may have picked up this use from Rosemary Gladstar, since Rosemary quotes from Peter and Barbara Theiss in her book, Herbal Healing for women, “Lady’s mantle is associated with the qualities of gentleness, elegance and grace in combination with powerful authority. If a woman finds difficulty in accepting a maternal role, is troubled by thoughts of abortion and suffers from morning sickness and other disorders during the first months of pregnancy, depression after birth and so on, Lady’s mantle is her herb.”
I was recently standing over my patch of Lady’s mantle with a newcomer to the Sanctuary who wanted something for a friend of hers who was experiencing heavy menstrual flooding at the same time as having to come to terms that she would probably never be able to experience motherhood in this lifetime. We picked some new leaves for her to make tincture for her friend. I shall wait to hear whether she finds it helpful.
Karen Lawton also shared a general women’s tonic she makes made from equal parts of raspberry leaf, nettles and Lady’s mantle. The dose is three drops three times a day. Her original recipe used a nettle syrup rather than a tincture and when I asked her why, her answer was that the syrup was what they had large amounts of at the time of creation and it seemed a good thing to add to the mixture!
Lady’s mantle was also used in a recipe for a hand lotion given by Lesley Bremnes on the Herb Society Forum some years ago.
Ingredients
30ml.glycerin 10 drops of essential oil of lemon, rose, geranium or sandalwood
10g carragheen moss dissolved in a little hot water
30ml strong infusion of lady’s mantle
60ml alcohol (Vodka)
Method
1 Stir the glycerin into the dissolved moss
2 Add the essential oil to the vodka mixing well, and then blend the two mixtures. Stir in the herbal infusion, blending well.
3 Pour in a screw-top jar and label. Shake before use if necessary.
I have to confess that I have never had the need to use Lady’s mantle myself, although I have the tincture in my larder and I have encouraged others to make the “women’s tonic” macerated either in vodka or vinegar. Studying the plant in more depth leads me to feel she could be a useful ally during difficult times in a woman’s life, but that her more ancient use as a woundwort should not be forgotten.
Sunday, 21 August 2011
Three weeks left!
Only three weeks until the Springfield Sanctuary Herb Festival 9-11 September. Come and join us for two fun-filled days of herbs, kites, stories and songs! Learn how to dye your own wool from natural dyes harvested from the Sanctuary in Kristina's magical dyeing glade. Join the Sanctuary Apprentices to make your own medicine and Denise Fiddaman for herb walks. If you want to gather your own wild foods, Ian will help you identify what is available at this time of year.
Lucinda Warner and Ali English will be furthering our knowledge of using herbs externally and making tonics from local herbs. If you want to know more about propogating herbs, Sam and Louise from Garden Organic will show you how to do it.
Sky Symphony Kite team will be displaying four times over the weekend. Check the online programme to make sure you don't miss their stunning new kite ballet.
The field will be open for camping and to set up stalls from 3pm on Friday and the festival will kick off with an open mic at 7.30pm.
We're trying to keep costs at a minimum, but we'd welcome your donations to help us pay for the loos and cover expenses. Suggested donations are £40 for the weekend and £20 per day. Email sarah at headology dot co do uk for more details and directions to the venue.
Lucinda Warner and Ali English will be furthering our knowledge of using herbs externally and making tonics from local herbs. If you want to know more about propogating herbs, Sam and Louise from Garden Organic will show you how to do it.
Sky Symphony Kite team will be displaying four times over the weekend. Check the online programme to make sure you don't miss their stunning new kite ballet.
The field will be open for camping and to set up stalls from 3pm on Friday and the festival will kick off with an open mic at 7.30pm.
We're trying to keep costs at a minimum, but we'd welcome your donations to help us pay for the loos and cover expenses. Suggested donations are £40 for the weekend and £20 per day. Email sarah at headology dot co do uk for more details and directions to the venue.
Wednesday, 10 August 2011
The Cycle of Life
It is difficult to write when you are constantly away from home and the travelling leads to exhaustion, no matter how enjoyable things might be along the way.
July/August was supposed to be a fun month – a reward to ourselves for all the hard work we had accomplished beforehand. Friends were joining us for the storytelling festival at Much Wenlock. The weather was much better than forecast – only a few heavy showers and some sunshine. The stories were wonderful and the music lovely, but my mother (who is registered blind and has vascular dementia) decided to go for a walk on her own and had to be returned home in a distressed state by a passing neighbour. She then refused to enter the house for several hours, necessitating calling out the doctor and the ambulance.
When I rang my father to tell him we’d arrived at the festival, it was all over, but I could hear the fear in his voice. He’d been taking a nap when it happened. I had to phone my sister in Italy to brief her on events and she visited the following weekend to make sure everything was safe.
The next weekend I was presenting at Herbfest. It was a wonderful weekend full of enthusiastic herb lovers who welcomed the opportunity to make their own herbal concoctions and wanted to expand their experiences.
It was a long and exhausting journey to north Somerset and I was wiped out with the stress of it all when we returned.
The following Tuesday, my cousin rang me to say my aunt had died. Although it was not unexpected news, it was very sad to share the pain of his loss and worry about breaking the news to my mother. The two sisters had been estranged since my grandmother died forty years ago, but I’d tried to keep some level of communication between the two families and was grateful I’d taken time to write to my aunt and sent photographs just before her death which she had been able to take comfort from.
At 7.15am on the Thursday my eldest son rang to say his wife’s waters had broken and she was in labour. I went into work to be told that because I am managed from the Sheffield office and worked mostly from home, I would no longer have a desk or any shelf space. I was devastated.
To put this in some kind of context, it must be explained that although we have a fairly large and comfortable house, in the past month we have finally, after thirty years of no maintenance, had the roof insulated along with the cavity walls, the gutters and facias replaced, the front door, back door, garage doors and porch replaced and the lounge furniture recovered and the lounge redecorated.
This has meant Chris had to clear several spaces including the roof, box room and our daughter’s bedroom as she decided to come home to live permanently after four years away. The front room which houses both Chris and my computers and the piano where I give lessons is completely filled with extra furniture and piles of books and papers. There are only tracks through the debris and I can’t turn my chair round without hitting something.
The thought of bringing the contents of my work desk and two bookcases/shelving units home was too much. I spent the following week in tears. It brought back all the grief from being made redundant eight years ago when I had to literally put fourteen years of work into black rubbish bags to be thrown away when we cleared my office.
At 5.50pm on Thursday 28th, Richard rang us to say we were now grandparents to a 7lb 14oz boy called James Michael. We heard the first baby snuffles as he lay on his mother’s tummy in the labour ward of St Peter’s hospital in Woking. Laura followed the family tradition of short deliveries, only being in established labour for 5 hours and managing with gas and air.
After a two hour journey and then a further hour wait in the hospital the following day, it was wonderful to finally hold the tiny, warm bundle in our arms and marvel at the tightness of his grip. Everyone else remarked how much he looked like Richard, but I could only see the face of someone I’d never met before, a new person to welcome into the family and learn more about.
The Warwick Folk Festival was very enjoyable, with stunning performances from The Spooky Men’s Chorale and Show of Hands. We also appreciated the lazy days last weekend spent with our friends in The Lake District finalising the details of our American holiday in a month’s time.
The joy of all these events has been tempered by the sadness of my aunt’s death and my mother’s increasing frailty. Every time I speak to her she asks me when I am coming to visit. It doesn’t matter I have been there every three weeks for the past year and will be there again tomorrow and every two or three weeks for the rest of the year. It will never be enough, but it is all I can manage.
July/August was supposed to be a fun month – a reward to ourselves for all the hard work we had accomplished beforehand. Friends were joining us for the storytelling festival at Much Wenlock. The weather was much better than forecast – only a few heavy showers and some sunshine. The stories were wonderful and the music lovely, but my mother (who is registered blind and has vascular dementia) decided to go for a walk on her own and had to be returned home in a distressed state by a passing neighbour. She then refused to enter the house for several hours, necessitating calling out the doctor and the ambulance.
When I rang my father to tell him we’d arrived at the festival, it was all over, but I could hear the fear in his voice. He’d been taking a nap when it happened. I had to phone my sister in Italy to brief her on events and she visited the following weekend to make sure everything was safe.
The next weekend I was presenting at Herbfest. It was a wonderful weekend full of enthusiastic herb lovers who welcomed the opportunity to make their own herbal concoctions and wanted to expand their experiences.
It was a long and exhausting journey to north Somerset and I was wiped out with the stress of it all when we returned.
The following Tuesday, my cousin rang me to say my aunt had died. Although it was not unexpected news, it was very sad to share the pain of his loss and worry about breaking the news to my mother. The two sisters had been estranged since my grandmother died forty years ago, but I’d tried to keep some level of communication between the two families and was grateful I’d taken time to write to my aunt and sent photographs just before her death which she had been able to take comfort from.
At 7.15am on the Thursday my eldest son rang to say his wife’s waters had broken and she was in labour. I went into work to be told that because I am managed from the Sheffield office and worked mostly from home, I would no longer have a desk or any shelf space. I was devastated.
To put this in some kind of context, it must be explained that although we have a fairly large and comfortable house, in the past month we have finally, after thirty years of no maintenance, had the roof insulated along with the cavity walls, the gutters and facias replaced, the front door, back door, garage doors and porch replaced and the lounge furniture recovered and the lounge redecorated.
This has meant Chris had to clear several spaces including the roof, box room and our daughter’s bedroom as she decided to come home to live permanently after four years away. The front room which houses both Chris and my computers and the piano where I give lessons is completely filled with extra furniture and piles of books and papers. There are only tracks through the debris and I can’t turn my chair round without hitting something.
The thought of bringing the contents of my work desk and two bookcases/shelving units home was too much. I spent the following week in tears. It brought back all the grief from being made redundant eight years ago when I had to literally put fourteen years of work into black rubbish bags to be thrown away when we cleared my office.
At 5.50pm on Thursday 28th, Richard rang us to say we were now grandparents to a 7lb 14oz boy called James Michael. We heard the first baby snuffles as he lay on his mother’s tummy in the labour ward of St Peter’s hospital in Woking. Laura followed the family tradition of short deliveries, only being in established labour for 5 hours and managing with gas and air.
After a two hour journey and then a further hour wait in the hospital the following day, it was wonderful to finally hold the tiny, warm bundle in our arms and marvel at the tightness of his grip. Everyone else remarked how much he looked like Richard, but I could only see the face of someone I’d never met before, a new person to welcome into the family and learn more about.
The Warwick Folk Festival was very enjoyable, with stunning performances from The Spooky Men’s Chorale and Show of Hands. We also appreciated the lazy days last weekend spent with our friends in The Lake District finalising the details of our American holiday in a month’s time.
The joy of all these events has been tempered by the sadness of my aunt’s death and my mother’s increasing frailty. Every time I speak to her she asks me when I am coming to visit. It doesn’t matter I have been there every three weeks for the past year and will be there again tomorrow and every two or three weeks for the rest of the year. It will never be enough, but it is all I can manage.
Monday, 11 July 2011
Summer abundance
I have never grown as many plants from seed as I have this year. Tomatoes, salad leaves, peas, runner and French beans, basil, two types of spinach, radishes, courgettes, butternut squash, ashwaghanda, holy basil, sweet clover and pokeroot from home produced and bought in seeds.
I’ve also never given away quite so many plants as well – runner beans,
St Johns wort, Michaelmas daisies and other assorted herbs. It was when I was potting up the third batch of St Johns wort plants from the garden and handed over a particularly succulent marshmallow plant that the thought crossed my mind, “If I give away so much, will I have enough for myself?” The compulsion to give was too strong. The plants must go.
There is a Native American tradition which Stephen Buhner describes in his “Secret Life of Plants”. When the tribal medicine man arrives at a home where healing has been requested, tradition demands that the spouse of the person should give away all possessions as gifts to other members of the community. The act is performed before the healing commences in anticipatory gratitude.
Other beliefs teach there is no need to hang on to possessions, because whatever we need will be provided by the universe. I know I don’t have the confidence yet to practice this philosophy, but this year is showing how abundance can be the flipside of gifts freely given.
In response to my plants, I have been given new varieties of tomatoes and lots of chilli plants. The basil seeds which grew so easily and magnificently were a gift during a workshop on seed planting and propagation during a Mercian Herb Group meeting in March. Sharing the runner bean plants has brought me closer to many people I value as friends.
I really should not have worried about having enough St John’s wort. The main bed of plants flowered on June 12th, almost two weeks before their normal day of 21st June. There are already three jars of oil infusing on the sunny windowsill in the kitchen and my first batch of tincture is already a glorious shade of crimson. The recent torrential rain combined with ten days absence in Northumberland and Newcastle has played havoc with my ability to pick the flowers every day, but I know there will be enough for my needs and to give away.
Spending the weekend with my parents enabled me to visit the Sanctuary and see which herbs were ready for harvest there. I missed the last of the apothecary’s rose petals (and Chris wouldn’t let me gather from the three briar rose bushes heavy with blossom at Beamish Museum!), but the William Shakespeare were still blooming even though the petals were heavily waterlogged. I gathered as many as I could and dried them by the kitchen rayburn. They are now infusing in cider vinegar waiting to show their colours at Herbfest on 23rd July.
The walk down to the Sanctuary was also a kaleidoscope of colours provided by ladies bedstraw, red & white clover, knapweed and plantain accompanied by a variety of butterflies, damsel flies and grasshoppers. I watch so many wildlife programmes bemoaning the loss of native habitats. I am so fortunate to have a meadow blooming at my feet!
I’ve already dried two harvests of catmint and ox–eye daises, but more was waiting for me along with a palette of colour provided by weld, wood betony and hyssop. Helped by the three people who attended the Saturday workshop, we picked purple sage, SJW, betony, goats rue, motherwort and enjoyed a wonderful tea of lemon balm and calendula flower.
Janey brought her carding pads and set to work on the wool we boiled for lanolin over Easter. The conclusion was that the wool was really only fit for felting rather than spinning, but it still leaves a wealth of possibilities for future crafts.
I had less than two hours on Sunday to complete my gathering and weeding after preparing Sunday dinner and before we had to pack everything up to come home. I intended to remove the last few docks from the new herb bed, but found myself harvesting and weeding skullcap instead. I also gathered a tiny basket of heartsease which I set to dry for a “hope” tea in the future.
Bees were everywhere – white and yellow/orange-bottomed bumblebees and honey bees. I watched them feeding from red clover and motherwort, climbing around the plant to suck the nectar from each individual floret. Their activity was so different from their sister bees collecting pollen from wide open evening primrose flowers or even St John’s wort flowers, where they appeared to brush their tummy over the pollen or wrap pollen strings around their whole bodies – something I’d not seen before.
The stand of motherwort was so beautiful. I kept looking at it wondering what I could make with it. I’d already gathered enough for vinegar. I have tincture and oil left from last year and it was far too hot and my time severely limited, for me to gather any more. So I left the strawberry and cream pink motherwort and the deep blue of the hyssop to the bees.
It is hard to accept you can’t do everything, especially when colours and scents call seductively to gather and process. There will be further opportunities. The calendula and bergamot are still a long way from flowering, so they and the tansy will greet me when I return in August.
I’ve also never given away quite so many plants as well – runner beans,
St Johns wort, Michaelmas daisies and other assorted herbs. It was when I was potting up the third batch of St Johns wort plants from the garden and handed over a particularly succulent marshmallow plant that the thought crossed my mind, “If I give away so much, will I have enough for myself?” The compulsion to give was too strong. The plants must go.
There is a Native American tradition which Stephen Buhner describes in his “Secret Life of Plants”. When the tribal medicine man arrives at a home where healing has been requested, tradition demands that the spouse of the person should give away all possessions as gifts to other members of the community. The act is performed before the healing commences in anticipatory gratitude.
Other beliefs teach there is no need to hang on to possessions, because whatever we need will be provided by the universe. I know I don’t have the confidence yet to practice this philosophy, but this year is showing how abundance can be the flipside of gifts freely given.
In response to my plants, I have been given new varieties of tomatoes and lots of chilli plants. The basil seeds which grew so easily and magnificently were a gift during a workshop on seed planting and propagation during a Mercian Herb Group meeting in March. Sharing the runner bean plants has brought me closer to many people I value as friends.
I really should not have worried about having enough St John’s wort. The main bed of plants flowered on June 12th, almost two weeks before their normal day of 21st June. There are already three jars of oil infusing on the sunny windowsill in the kitchen and my first batch of tincture is already a glorious shade of crimson. The recent torrential rain combined with ten days absence in Northumberland and Newcastle has played havoc with my ability to pick the flowers every day, but I know there will be enough for my needs and to give away.
Spending the weekend with my parents enabled me to visit the Sanctuary and see which herbs were ready for harvest there. I missed the last of the apothecary’s rose petals (and Chris wouldn’t let me gather from the three briar rose bushes heavy with blossom at Beamish Museum!), but the William Shakespeare were still blooming even though the petals were heavily waterlogged. I gathered as many as I could and dried them by the kitchen rayburn. They are now infusing in cider vinegar waiting to show their colours at Herbfest on 23rd July.
The walk down to the Sanctuary was also a kaleidoscope of colours provided by ladies bedstraw, red & white clover, knapweed and plantain accompanied by a variety of butterflies, damsel flies and grasshoppers. I watch so many wildlife programmes bemoaning the loss of native habitats. I am so fortunate to have a meadow blooming at my feet!
I’ve already dried two harvests of catmint and ox–eye daises, but more was waiting for me along with a palette of colour provided by weld, wood betony and hyssop. Helped by the three people who attended the Saturday workshop, we picked purple sage, SJW, betony, goats rue, motherwort and enjoyed a wonderful tea of lemon balm and calendula flower.
Janey brought her carding pads and set to work on the wool we boiled for lanolin over Easter. The conclusion was that the wool was really only fit for felting rather than spinning, but it still leaves a wealth of possibilities for future crafts.
I had less than two hours on Sunday to complete my gathering and weeding after preparing Sunday dinner and before we had to pack everything up to come home. I intended to remove the last few docks from the new herb bed, but found myself harvesting and weeding skullcap instead. I also gathered a tiny basket of heartsease which I set to dry for a “hope” tea in the future.
Bees were everywhere – white and yellow/orange-bottomed bumblebees and honey bees. I watched them feeding from red clover and motherwort, climbing around the plant to suck the nectar from each individual floret. Their activity was so different from their sister bees collecting pollen from wide open evening primrose flowers or even St John’s wort flowers, where they appeared to brush their tummy over the pollen or wrap pollen strings around their whole bodies – something I’d not seen before.
The stand of motherwort was so beautiful. I kept looking at it wondering what I could make with it. I’d already gathered enough for vinegar. I have tincture and oil left from last year and it was far too hot and my time severely limited, for me to gather any more. So I left the strawberry and cream pink motherwort and the deep blue of the hyssop to the bees.
It is hard to accept you can’t do everything, especially when colours and scents call seductively to gather and process. There will be further opportunities. The calendula and bergamot are still a long way from flowering, so they and the tansy will greet me when I return in August.
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