Sick Day

It's been a while since I've had a real, honest-to-goodness head cold. Today I'm home from work, still in my flannel nightgown, drinking hot tea and lazing by the fire with Miss Charley, the cat who is not supposed to be in the house. (She has never understood or agreed with that rule, and manages to slide in at every opportunity. The rule was made for two reasons: I have allergies, and she peed on the couch--several times--last winter. If you have ever tried to get rid of cat pee scent, you know how aggravated I was. Now Clyde, our other kitty, will not come in for any reason; he's a true outside cat. Charley apparently thinks she is too good to hang out with him outside. So. She is now on the couch, stretching her orange-and-white body ever closer to the flames.)

As for the cold, this is not fun. I've had lots of good advice on Facebook--everything from chicken noodle soup to possum grease and hot-and-sour soup. My neighbor Belva once told me that skunk grease mixed with turpentine and smeared on your chest was a great cure for congestion. I just took her word for it. I have found, however, that this is actually a well-known remedy. An article in the Fredericksbug, Virginia newspaper in 2001 gave instructions for making your own (roadkill, they advise, is fine for this purpose). In his book Signs, Cures and Witchery, author Gerald Milnes notes that the use of skunk grease was a remedy common among the German settlers of the Allegheny mountains of West Virginia. (By the way, the DVD companion to this book is well worth watching. It's a fascinating look into old-world superstitions and culture of this region.)

The remedy also seems to have found its way west. An article on the Wisconsin Historical Society's website shows a picture of a bottle of skunk grease found in the museum and provides more instructions and even the historical background of that particular bottle. And would you believe, the article even says that people drank skunk oil as a remedy? One side benefit of this remedy that might have been lost on the early settlers: it certainly would have prevented the spread of a cold or other ailments because no one would want to be near the sufferer!


My mother's standard cold remedies included hot tea with sugar but no cream for children and for adults hot tea with lemon and brandy added, or lemon juice, hot water, honey and brandy, depending on what she had on hand. The brandy added heat that went right down inside and spread a comforting warmth slowly out to your very fingertips. She was a believer in Vick's VapoRub and a vaporizer too, and I can still remember the smell of the vaporizer as it steamed  and hissed beside our bed when we were children. Toast, scrambled eggs, tomato soup and chicken noodle soup were also on her list of remedies for sick children. I still want those same things today when I have a cold, and I've added orange juice as a must-have as well.

My father recalled using the Vapo-Cresolene lamp as a child in New Orleans. I found this one for him online and bought it as a surprise gift. It returned to me after he passed away. There is a full bottle of Cresolene in the box on the right, and the smell is incredibly strong. I don't know if this is safe to use, but just a whiff will clear your head. I might go in there and take a sniff, actually! This image will be used in an upcoming medical book; the publisher found the image on my blog and requested permission to use it. You can read my article about this lamp on the Two-Lane Livin' website.

Sally Squires wrote an interesting article about her quest for a cold remedy for the Washington Post. Mustard plasters, skunk oil, pear congee, raw honey, cherry bark extract, elderberries and more were recommended to her as possible "cures." Her final bit of advice is what we all know, however: "Treat a cold and it will last for seven days; don't treat it and it will be gone in a week."

I wish I had this book in hand right now. Surely with a title like that there has to be some fascinating reading inside: Country Folk Medicine: Tales of Skunk Oil, Sassafras Tea and Other Old-Time Remedies.

Back to the tissues, and a cup of hot tea on this cold snowy day. Maybe I will get that pile of receipts sorted--if I can do it on the couch.

Bloodroot

Every spring I look for bloodroot on the roadbanks along Joe's Run. It is one of the earliest spring flowers and its white blossoms are large and bright after a long winter. Some years I see it, others I don't. I knew of one place where I could almost always find it, but for the past two years it has not been there.

Wednesday as we drove into town for mulch, I spotted white flowers on the opposite side of the road from where I have found bloodroot before. There were a lot of them. Maybe it wasn't flowers, I thought. Maybe it's just dandelion seedheads. Because these flowers were in a sunny location and I knew bloodroot prefers moist, shady, rich soil. Definitely could not be bloodroot.

But what if...?

"Stop," I told Larry. "Back up." Familiar words in our car--he hears them a lot. "Please?" I added.

The please must have surprised him because he backed up. It was a good ways back that I had seen the flowers and my ruminations about whether they could grow in such a location meant that we'd traveled a few hundred feet down the road. Being a one-lane road between bank and hillside, there are few places to turn around, particularly in this stretch that borders the lake.

But there they were--bloodroot in full flower scattered under the dry remains of last summer's tall wildflowers and weeds. The flowers, a waxy white with yellow centers, were hugged by their leathery, mitt-like leaves. So pretty. Of course I took pictures.

When I got home I wondered about the uses of bloodroot. A friend mentioned that people in her area dig it to sell to root-and-herb dealers. What value did the plant have?

I started with the USDA site.

Hunh.

There I found taxonomic information but nothing about uses. Links on the USDA page led me to Wildflower.org, a website for the Ladybird Johnson Wildflower Center Native Plant Network. On this site I learned that the plant is considered toxic--specifically, "Warning: POISONOUS PARTS: Rhizome (thickened roots). May be fatal if ingested! Symptoms include nausea, vomiting, faintness, dizziness, dilated pupils, fainting, diarrhea, heart failure. Toxic Principle: Isoquinoline alkaloids."

O-kay. That's pretty direct. So why did some people dig it up for sale? Surely there aren't that many poisoners in the market for bloodroot? (I hope)

Well, there are a few other uses--as a red dye, for instance, as Native Americans used to do. They also used it as an insect repellent, but after reading the above warning, I think I'll stick with commercial products. Early settlers in America put a drop of bloodroot on a lump of maple sugar and used this as a cough medicine (1). Since the plant has known poisonous properties, this is not recommended today.

Native Americans also used the plant to make a tea for rheumatism, asthma and other lung ailments (2). Early New Englanders hung a piece of bloodroot over their beds as a cure for toothache (3), and in Voodoo practices bloodroot was believed to have magical properties to remove a hex, and as a protection for marital accord (4). More recent uses of bloodroot include: as a plaque inhibitor in toothpaste, in mouthwash, and rinses (5).

Given the strong warning against ingesting or otherwise using bloodroot, I think it's best to admire the flower and the strong red juice that will drip from its broken root, and otherwise leave the plant to its own devices.

Some gardeners like to use bloodroot as a groundcover in shade gardens because its fairly large leaves remain green most of the growing season. Collecting the seeds, according to my friend and herbalist Melissa Dennison, can be tricky because the seedpods are like those of touch-me-nots
(also called jewelweed) and burst when you touch them. However, you might be able to gather them by spreading a sheet on the ground under the plants.

I prefer to leave bloodroot in the wild and seek it out each spring when the first wildflowers are in bloom. There is something about the seek-and-find that I enjoy, and the surprise of the beautiful white blossoms of bloodroot is worth the time to stop, back up, and enjoy.

Those interested in Appalachian culture and folklore might want to check out Bloodroot: Reflections on Place by Appalachian Women Writers. It is not about wild plants, but rather about the way women in this region view their homes, families and culture. Like the plant, Bloodroot examines a place and a lifestyle that is both beautiful and painful.

Bloodroot: Reflections on Place by Appalachian Women Writers, published in 1998 by the University of Kentucky Press. I highly recommend it.

1. Coffey, Timothy. The History and Folklore of North American Wildflowers. Houghton Mifflin Company, NY: 1993.

2. Foster, Steven and James A. Duke. A Field Guild to Medicinal Plants and Herbs of Eastern and Central North America. Houghton Mifflin Company, NY: 2000.

3. Hatfield, Gabrielle. Encyclopedia of Folk Medicine" Old World and New Traditions. ABC-CLIO: 2003.

4. Bloodroot hubpage. http://hubpages.com/hub/Bloodroot
5. Foster, Steven and James A. Duke. A Field Guild to Medicinal Plants and Herbs of Eastern and Central North America. Houghton Mifflin Company, NY: 2000.


There is a book that those interested in Appalachian culture and folklore might want to check out: Bloodroot: Reflections on Place by Appalachian Women Writers, published in 1998 by the University of Kentucky Press. I highly recommend it.

The Vapo-Cresolene Lamp

To read my article about the Vapo-Cresolene lamp, visit Two-Lane Livin's online magazine.

Here is a photo of the lamp. I doubt many people have seen or know about these little lamps that were considered medicinal magic in their day.

If you have ever used one of these, I'd be interested in hearing about it.

The Elusive Goldenseal

(c) 2006 Steven J. Baskauf , use allowed for personal and educational purposes. From http://www.cas.vanderbilt.edu/bioimages/species/hyca.htm

Goldenseal (Hydrastis Canadensis)

Walk down the north side of a mountain, follow a small stream until you come to a place verdant with ferns, mayapple and wild ginger. That is where you might, if you are lucky, find one of the most revered plants of mountain folk medicine: Goldenseal.

It is not a flashy, standout plant. It grows low, like the mayapple. The two plants are somewhat similar in appearance but share no family relation. The Mayapple is in the Barberry family while Goldenseal is in the Buttercup family. Goldenseal only flowers briefly in Spring, one flower per plant. If you find it in bloom, you will probably admire its green and white flower—it stands erect above the plant, feathery and serene in the dark forest valleys where it makes its home.

Image from N.L. Britton and Addison Brown (1913). An Illustrated Flora of the Northern United States, Canada and the British Possessions. Charles Scribner's Sons, Nwe York, NY. Obtained from http://www.cas.vanderbilt.edu/bioimages/species/hyca.htm

And yet this plant with its one large leaf and one small, a hairy stem and single blossom, is credited with a wide range of medicinal cures. In fact, it was so sought after in the early 20th century that the digging of it nearly caused its extinction. According to early botanists, Goldenseal was thought to be useful for everything from tonics to diseases of the eye and ear to yellow dye. Native Americans extracted its brilliant yellow dye and used it as paint. In 1918, the USDA reported that 200,000 to 300,000 pounds of a drug produced from the root was used . The plant was believed to contain an antibiotic that was effective against several bacterial strains. Goldenseal is still used today in some medical preparations, although the plants used for that purpose are usually commercially grown. Goldenseal can stil be found in the Appalachian mountains, although its range elsewhere still seems to be restricted.

In my husband’s family, Goldenseal tonic was kept as a staple in the refrigerator. His father gathered the roots, dried them and then mixed them with water to make a bitter drink that the family used for sore throats, colds and other ailments. Ever since we were married, Larry has talked about this plant whenever we had sore throats, upset stomachs or colds. Although he looked for Goldenseal every time he was in the woods, he never found it.

Determined and knowing it had to be here somewhere, Larry got online and found photos of the plant, which he printed out. When a day came that he could finally take the time, he hiked off into the woods. We’d talked about where the most likely place to find it would be. And we were right. In the place where the jack-in-the-pulpit grows thick and the mayapples and ferns compete for ground space, he found the plants he’d been seeking.

Larry's Goldenseal roots. Note the yellow color.

While Goldenseal can still be sold to herb dealers who buy ginseng and mayapple (mandrake) root, we’re not interested in selling it. It's enough just to know the plant is growing and thriving nearby.

And we'll keep a little in store, just in case.

Sources for more information:
Core, Earl. Goldenseal. Goldenseal magazine, Vol 6, number 1. January-March 1980.

Coffey, Timothy. The History and Folklore of North American Wildflowers. Houghton Mifflin, NY: 1993. pp 18-19.

Martin, Laura C. Wildflower Folklore. Globe Pequot Press, Conn: 1984, 1993. pp 178-179.

Audubon Society Filed Guide to North American Wildflowers. Alfred A. Knopf, NY: 1979. pp 736-737.

More articles about Goldenseal from Goldenseal Magazine:
Goldenseal 10:1;p2

Goldenseal 15:1;p70

Goldenseal Fall;25:3;p22

Healing from the Hills: Folk Medicine of the Southern Mountains 16:4;p60

In Search of the Wild Goldenseal Fall;25:3;p24


Websites:

Kansas State University Extension Services March 1999 --short article about uses of goldenseal, dosage and how to prepare.

National Institutes of Health --"fact sheet provides basic information about the herb.

US Forest Service article on need for "educating consumers about the appropriate uses of the herb in order to reduce overconsumption; working with growers to increase the profitability of cultivation and reduce pressures on wild plants; and identifying and tracking wild populations to determine the most effective management and conservation practices."

Popular Herb 'Goldenseal' Lowers Cholesterol in Lab Tests --wouldn't this be great if it is proved to be true?

Elderberries

One of the most accessible of wild berries, elderberries typically grow wild and abundantly along country roadsides. I'm lucky enough to have a bush of them near the piglot, so even gathering was low-cost, just a walk down the yard.

Elderberry bushes are so pretty in bloom with big white umbrellas of flowers covering the bushes around the middle of June. My neighbor Belva used to say that when elderberries are in bloom, milk cows give less milk. My experience proved her to be correct, although I'm not sure what the connection was (or was it just my imagination? I don't think so).

These small purple berries yield a powerful deep red juice that makes excellent jelly and wine.

My elderberry jelly, made last weekend, turned out beautifully.

My recipe for elderberry jelly:

Pick ripe berries and strip from stems. Rinse thoroughly. Crush berries, add about 1/2 cup of water and heat to boiling. Remove from heat and strain through cheesecloth or juice bag.

Put 4 1-2 cups of elderberry juice into a large saucepan. Add 1.8 cup of lemon juice and 1 box of fruit pectin. Bring to a full rolling boil. Add 6 1/2 cups of sugar and return to a boil. boil hard for one minute. Remove from heat, skim off any foam and ladle into hot, sterilized jars. Process following recommended procedures (see this recipe for guidelines)

Many uses are attributed to elderberry. For example:

• We used hollowed-out elderberry branches when we tapped maples. We would drill the hole, and use the hollowed elderberry stem as the tap to funnel sap into the bucket.


• I used to batter-dip elderberry blossoms to make elder fritters.


• Elderberry blossoms make an interesting white wine. Here's one recipe from Cooks.com. (My recipe was from an old cookbook that is long since gone.)

Elderberry lore, recipes and more at Mother Earth News.

The self-proclaimed site that "all about elderberries."

Botanical.com lists numerous uses for all parts of the elderberry plant, as well as several recipes for elderberry wine.

There are several myths about the elder plant; several can be found here. And according to this website, the elder can be used to see the king of fairyland.

And then, "On mid-summer´s night the elderberry was a symbol of love. The saying was that:" If a young maiden shook the elderberry tree, her future husband appeared from the direction the dog barked." From Salzkammergut (Austria) lore.

A folktale about Father Elderberry-tea from the Brothers Grimm is here.

And another folktale, from the Pitt e-text project:

The Entombed Noblewoman

by Johann Adolf Heyl

Approximately a quarter hour west of the parsonage of Enneberg stands Asch, the knightly ancestral home of the Lords of Prack. The Cadorinis are said to have set it afire during their military attack in the year 1487. It still stands as it was rebuilt afterward.

Adjacent to the castle is a garden, surrounded by a wall that is overgrown with elderberry and currant bushes. Not far from this seat of nobility flows the brook Rü Fortiang toward St. Vigiler's Brook. The following legend deals with this place.

A Knight Prack went to war, leaving his expectant wife at home.
One day a beggar woman came to Castle Asch and asked for alms. The noblewoman was hardhearted and had the old woman turned away. The woman left angrily, shouting up to the windows, "As punishment you shall bring twelve children into the world at one time."

And thus it happened. The woman brought twelve boys into the world at one time, but she kept only one of them, the one who pleased her most. She ordered a maidservant to drown the others in a nearby brook.

At the same time the knight returned home from the field. He met the maidservant with the eleven children in her apron. He asked her what she was carrying away, and the maidservant told him everything.

The knight had the eleven boys raised by strangers. At home he acted as if he knew nothing about the event. He caressed the boy that his wife had kept and attended to his knightly upbringing.

When the sons had grown up he sponsored a splendid feast and told his wife that he had invited eleven magnificent knights. The woman considered herself fortunate to be able to host such distinguished guests. She did everything to prepare a distinguished meal.

The eleven knights finally made their entry, and the feast began. As they ate, the knight entertained his guests with stories of his war deeds. Finally he turned the conversation to a discussion of various kinds of misdeeds.
Soon thereafter the knight began telling a story, "Once there was a raven-mother who brought twelve boys into the world. She wanted to kill eleven of them and to keep and raise only one. However, without her knowledge, she was hindered in her criminal intentions. The eleven boys were rescued and brought up away from home. What punishment would such a woman deserve?"

The wife, who had no idea that anyone knew anything about her secret except for the maidservant, and who thought that her eleven boys had long been dead, replied with indignation, "Such a raven-mother should be entombed alive."

With that the knight turned to her and said calmly, "You yourself are this raven-mother, and my eleven knightly guests are our sons whom you wanted to drown. God decreed otherwise, and fortunately they are still alive. Your own judgment will now be carried out on you."

The wife confessed her dastardly intentions, embraced and kissed her twelve sons, and was led away without resistance.

Her husband allowed her to select the place where she would be entombed. She chose the garden wall of their castle, and asked that she be allowed to put into her mouth a hollowed-out elderberry branch, such as grew on the garden wall, so that she could breathe. If the branch were to grow into an independent elderberry bush, then she was saved. If, however, it were to wither, then she was condemned to the torments of hell. Then she was entombed.

"Thank God," added hard-of-hearing old Frau Agreiter, who told me this story, "as you can see, the elderberry twig has grown into a splendid bush. The poor woman has done her penance and is now in heaven, for that was a long time ago."

Nonetheless, it can be spooky from time to time at Castle Asch, especially in the subterranean chambers. It is said that the great treasure of the Bracuns, an immeasurable amount of gold, is buried there, and also Saint George's saddle, upon which he sat when he killed the dragon. When the Pracks rode in that saddle they were said to be invincible.

Source: Johann Adolf Heyl, Volkssagen, Bräuche und Meinungen aus Tirol (Brixen: Verlag der Buchhandlung des Kath.-polit. Pressvereins, 1897), pp. 576-577.
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Okay, enough already. Go find some elderberries, and get busy making your own jelly, wine or whatever your fancy dictates!

Ah, the Itch! Poison Ivy

One of my sons has some prizewinning poison ivy at his house. Some of it has trunks like trees, no kidding. He's working on eradicating it, but it's no easy task.

Over the years I've learned a few remedies for poison ivy that work for me, and others that seem to work for those who've tried them:

1. Homemade lye soap was recommended to me by a doctor in the 1970's. According to the FDA, what makes you itch when you come into contact with poison ivy is the chemical urushiol, which is easily spread on contact. Lye soap can strip usushiol from your skin and stop the spread of the itch. It definitely helped me recover from a bad bout of winter poison ivy I apparently contracted from the smoke for logs twined with the stuff that we were burning in a brush pile.

2. Jewelweed, also known as wild Touch-Me-Not (and related to the garden flower Impatiens) has a gel in its stem similar to that of Aloe. My neighbors told me when I moved here that breaking open the stem of jewelweed and spreading the gooey get on poison ivy will stop the itch. A few years ago I was on a nature hike when someone in the group came in contact with nettles. The stinging was driving her crazy so I suggested jewelweed as a possible antidote. She tried it and it worked like magic. I have used jewelweed on bug bites and poison ivy and it works for me.

3. Bleach applied directly to poison ivy has been recommended to me by several people. I haven't tried it so I can't attest to its efficacy, but it seems like a reasonable idea given the ability of bleach to strip oil and grease from surfaces. There are many conflicting opinions online about this and almost any remedy for poison ivy, however.

4. My mother mixed baking soda with water to make a paste that we applied to the itchy spots. It seemed to help with the itching, as I remember, but the good effects wore off as soon as the paste dried. Still it could be a stopgap until something more effective can be obtained.

For an extensive list of folk remedies for poison ivy, look at Health 911.

I'd like to hear what others are doing for this irritating itch. Do you have a remedy you'd like to share?