Maclura pomifera (Moraceae family) has a great many common names besides Osage Orange: bois d’arc, bodark, horse apple, hedge apple, murier du Texas
It’s in the same family as mulberry and has a similar growth habitat and widespread adaptability.
For our ancestors it was a highly prized tree that went out of favor in late Colonial times after the widespread use of barbed wire and later heavy harvesting machinery. Before that time it had multiple crucial uses as a wind break, in preventing soil erosion and especially for creating living hedges for livestock containment. It was also used for it’s very hard but flexible wood in making bows and rot-resistant building materials.
It was also used as a rodent and insect repellant and many still use it for this purpose.
But here we are most interested in its many medicinal uses.
The seed is edible, and often enjoyed by squirrels, but not easily obtained.
“The fruit of M. pomífera has shown an effect on human cancer cells (kidney, lung, prostate, breast, melanoma, and colon) as an inhibitor of histone deacetylase (HDAC) via the prenylated flavonoid pomiferin, showing antiproliferative activity in the six cell lines evaluated [23]. In this sense, the compound pomiferin (contained in the fruit of M. pomífera) has been shown in tests with cancer cells to behave as an inhibitor of cancer stem cells from a human glioma [22], showing a reduction in the expression of genes associated with stamina (the ability of the cell to reproduce repeatedly and form stem cells). Also, M. pomífera has been helpful as a marker in the diagnosis of cancer since it allows the distinguishing of patients with prostate cancer from those patients who present benign prostatic diseases and normal subjects, this being through the high affinity of the sera of patients with prostate cancer towards the M. pomífera lectin [21].
Additionally, the fruit, bark, leaves, root, and seed have been reported to have a high content of oils, sugars, and compounds such as isoflavones, xanthones, triterpenes, and stilbenes, with isoflavones being the most representative [15].”
“The seeds are edible and the heartwood, bark and roots contain many extractives of actual and potential value in food processing, pesticide manufacturing, and dye-making. Various parts of the Maclura species are used in folkloric medicine worldwide. Decoction prepared from the roots of M. pomifera is used for the treatment of sore eyes by Comanche Indians in the North America (Carlson and Volney, 1940). The bark of Maclura tinctoria has been reported to be used against toothache by Kaiowa and Guarani indigenous people living in the Caarapo Reserve in Brazil as well as the in the other parts of Amazon region, it was also recorded to be used in Southern Ghana for dental health (Elvin-Lewis et al., 1980, Elvin-Lewis and Lewis, 1983, Bueno et al., 2005).
The fruit of M. pomifera is also well-known for its rich isoflavonoid content as well as a content of xanthones (Delle Monache et al., 1984, Delle Monache et al., 1994, Toker and Erdogan, 1998). Several biological activities of the plant were reported up to date including antimicrobial, estrogenic, anti-inflammatory and antinociceptive activities (Mahmoud, 1981, Maier et al., 1995, Küpeli et al., 2006). Antioxidant activity of the major flavonoids of M. pomifera has also been studied (Tsao et al., 2003, Vesela et al., 2004).”
Native Americans used M. pomifera for the treatment of cancer [2]. In Bolivia, the plant sap is used for the treatment of tooth pain, and the bark and leaves are used for uterine hemorrhage [3]. Comanche Indians in North America used the Osage orange roots decoction to treat sore eyes [4]. M. pomifera and its components possess several biological activities including cytotoxic, antitumor, antibacterial, estrogenic, antifungal, antiviral, and antimalar-ial activities [5–13]. Recently, isofavones isolated from Osage orange have been demonstrated to protect brain cells, or neurons, from the toxic effects of amyloid beta peptide, which is believed to be responsible for the degeneration of neurons in Alzheimer’s disease patients.” M.pomifera produces several secondary metabolites belonging to diferent chemical classes including prenylated favonoids. Teprenylated favonoids possess diferent biological activities such as antifungal, antibacterial, antitumor, and antioxidant activities.”
We have a few still around in our area and I’ve been propagating them from seed in the hope of creating a living hedge. Unfortunately our summers have been so severe lately I’ve only managed one survivor, now 3 years old. I’ll keep trying!
A very old specimen at a neighbor’s house in East Texas.
A neighbor’s old Bois d’arc tree Spring 2023
A beautiful shade tree with so much to offer, I hope it becomes popular once again in our countryside.
A couple more impressive Bois d’arc photos from the Internet:
A celebration of fresh food in photo! Because it is a true pleasure for both of us to produce our own food as much as possible; it is the main appeal of this labor-intensive lifestyle.
To think, it all started with a hurricane, and then a garden. We didn’t even have a dream or a plan.
Or a clue!
Left: Hot peppers and turmeric, dried luffa for sponges Right: fresh from the garden—lots of lettuce, radishes, cilantro, dill, thyme, celery and roasted garlic.
The peppers are becoming a couple of sauces, one made by Hubby, chili garlic sauce, and was pressure canned for long term storage. It’s a copycat recipe of Huy Fong Brand and is fantastic.
Another will be made by me, inspired by Gavin Mounsey’s kitchen.
Photos by Gavin Mounsey
The peppers, garlic, elderberry, onion and other herbs will first be fermented and later made into a Sriracha-type sauce that will store about 6 months in the refrigerator. For amazing food photos and recipes, Gavin’s are spectacular, along with so much other refreshing content.
Previous year’s garden goodies.
From the pasture to the plate. It’s a very rewarding feeling!
Above: Hubby processing chickens with machine plucker. Below left: smoking bacon Right: Pork roll just off the smoker
Left: Christmas pudding, a British classic and my first attempt. (Thanks Kath for the recipe!) We will see in a month or so if I succeeded. Also liver sausage, made from lamb liver and topped with roasted almonds. It’s not everyone’s thing, I know, but you might be surprised, I was never a fan of liver either. Right: Cured lamb and Mason jar Marcelin cheese, aging. Yes, you can put them in the same small space, I cover the cheese with a bamboo mat, in a closet with my seed storage, for about a week before moving to cold storage.
The cured lamb can be done from many different types or cuts of meats. This one is taken from the easy-to-follow recipe for Cured Venison Loin at wildharvesttable.com
The cured lamb thinly sliced with soft cheese and sourdough bread is better than anything store-bought in these parts.
We have learned so much about growing and cooking and preserving and the learning never ends.
But all the hard work has excellent rewards!
I’ve learned a lot about homemade wines and cured meats from this Italian YT channel. It’s amazing what you can do with just a little bit of space and minimal equipment and good ingredients. I’ll be trying this simple salami next.
Roasted sweet potatoes become Sweet Potato
Roasted sweet potatoes from this year’s harvest become a favorite dessert: Sweet Potato Praline served with fresh whipped cream and homemade chocolate liqueur.
Cooking is a wonderful way to spend the day, even when it’s just for the dogs!
A big pot of dog food, fit for a Great Dane
Hope you’re enjoying your cooking time, too! Thanks for stopping by!
It’s been a while since any update, but not because nothing is happening on the wee homestead. It’s still the same story—the biggest news-worthy thing is the one I’ve been avoiding writing about.
As usual, there are the latest piglets and chicks and harvests and garden woes and ‘unseasonable’ weather. Rest assured, we’ve had all that again this summer.
I did imagine if I ever run out of blogging content to share I could start a new quiz show . . . Here we are in East Texas folks, so let’s play Guess The Season!
Come on down, step right up, where your chances to win are a remarkable 1 in 4, WOW!
But it might be more challenging to win than you think. How about it, ready to give it a try?
The roses and geraniums and wildflowers are blooming, volunteer tomato plants are coming up, the lettuce is bolting and the dogs are shedding, what season is it?
Well, if you guessed springtime, tough luck loser!
Let me give you another clue, Rambo, Teaky and Papa Chop are horny, but the girls are all already knocked up. Poor fellas!
Rambo, still chasing the girls! If you look closely in the distance, past the downed tree, you’ll see Hubby’s recently finished ‘bridge to nowhere’.
What else is new, or not? We have entered slaughter season, my fall transplants are dying in the heat, the moles and voles and gophers have taken over the garden, and I have only two bee colonies which survived the summer, again.
An entire bed of baby broccoli, cauliflower and cabbages lost to rodents! Argh! 😖
It’s well past time to plant garlic, Hubby prepared the rows a month ago, but I don’t dare do the deed. It’s still far too warm. They will start growing too soon, putting all their energy into a fine green shoot that will then die when the inevitable frost comes again, and the remnants of the bulb will then likely rot in the ground.
Lots of elephant garlic (harvested in May) left for re-planting and enjoying through the YoYo season. Behind it is about 1/3 of our sweet potato harvest. Both did very well, though the Irish potatoes and the onions did terrible.
As far as general garden results for the year, a mixed bag, as is typical. The peppers did not do well and I had such high hopes. Last year we had amazing peppers all summer and fall, so I really have no idea why this year was so poor. It was my hope to experiment with spicy ferments and pimientos. No such luck. We have dismally few jalapeños and green peppers coming in, plus one prolific plant that magically survived, producing these beauties, which will hopefully ripen quickly. I had to pull off one entire branch, which is where these green ones originated, because it was overtopping its cage and becoming unruly.
The squashes also did not do well and I attribute this to the wet spring followed quickly by excessive heat and drought. I’ve heard from several nearby gardeners who had the same problem.
Very few squashes this year, not even luffa did well, and that’s usually easy and prolific. In the center are persimmons, we got about a dozen off the young tree. And, a surprise . . . Watermelon!
The cucumbers were another disappointment, but that was my own fault. My goal was to prolong the season by succession planting, so I planted fewer cucumbers than usual at peak time, thinking we’d have them fresh and fermented for the entire summer and fall, so no need for canning surplus.
Unfortunately, even the young plants could not thrive in our summer temps, so old ones which were past their main production, along with new but not yet producing, all died. Then I got lucky and some volunteers showed up in late August, so I nurtured them along, and right after they started producing, we got a super early frost, one night only. It killed them off.
Six ‘winter’ watermelons!
Surprisingly, the quick frost did not kill off the few remaining peppers, or the watermelons, which I planted late after starting them indoors, on a whim, because the best part of the summer garden this year was definitely the watermelons.
And now, we’ve got more!
Thanksgiving watermelons, that’s a first. There’s also a few volunteer tomatoes I’ll be digging up soon to move inside under lights.
Between the bolted Romaine, one of several tomato volunteers.
The baby citrus trees have all survived their first summer, I’m so hoping that’s a sign of continued success. They aren’t looking so good, but they’re hanging in there. I’ll take that as a win, as temporary as it may be.
The young citrus planted in early spring, not looking great, but still hanging in there!
I’ve also been babying a few graveyard treasures. Perhaps as a distraction from my misery, I’ve been visiting all the cemeteries in the area and have found in them a few spectacular specimens I want to grow.
There was the healthiest, largest Turk’s cap aka Mexican apple (Malvaviscus arboreus var. drummondii) I’ve ever seen, and in the middle of drought still bright and beautiful. I’ve been wanting one not only because they are drought-tolerant and attractive, but also because they are a popular medicinal and a perennial edible. (I’ll definitely be covering it in a future Herbal Explorations post.)
I did manage to get one cutting, out of 6, to take root. There’s also a wild pink rambling rose that I got rooted, and some gorgeous Magnolia trees, which I hope I can get started after stratification and scarification of their seeds.
A baby Turk’s Cap and a Mexican oregano (I hope!)
Plus, I’m excited that 1 of the 3 Mimosa trees I dug up from the gutter in early spring, and have been doting on all summer, is doing beautifully; I think she’s going to make it! Last year’s attempt failed by this time of year, I think because the spot I chose was too shady.
A young Mimosa tree recently transplanted after growing in a pot in part-sun all summer. Again in the distance, behind the sheep, Hubby’s ‘bridge to nowhere’.
Another noteworthy piece is we’ve had a mystery fruit invade the garden.
Mouse melons gone wild? I did plant store-bought mouse melon seed, also called cucamelon, for a couple of summers. I called it my ‘crop of the year’ in 2018.
They were a novelty item I thought I’d try, and while they are so cute and a fun addition to the summer produce, they are super tiny and tedious to harvest, so not a lot of bang for the buck.
Online stock photo: Mouse melons, about the size of my thumb nail.
Mouse melon from Wiki: Melothria scabra is native to Colombia, El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, Mexico, Nicaragua, Panama, and Venezuela,where it grows in forests and thickets.
That is the closest fruit I can match to our mystery fruit, which does come with a more interesting backstory.
Two years ago I found five of these fruits on the road near the creek with no plant attached to them. I figured they were part of a squirrel’s stash that had flooded out, or had dropped from an unknown tree, a wild variety of something I’d never heard of before. I was so intrigued!
I looked all around for the potential tree and couldn’t find any. But, somehow I got it stuck in my head that I’d just found wild kumquats. When my local gardening friends laughed and told me that was impossible, I said, well, we will see.
The following spring I gave some of the seeds to a friend and planted some in our garden. Within two months I’d regretted it; it was no tree. The vines had very quickly begun to take over a large section of space with the most tenacious tendrils and prolific foliage I’d ever seen.
I told my friend to pull them out, immediately, as they were very invasive and she has very limited garden space. She laughed and said, “I told you they weren’t kumquats!” 😆
The vines are so tough they’re like pulling thick rope. They readily re-root from the vines as well, and I came to discover this year, re-seed with great abandon.
While I pulled them up that first year before seeing any fruits on them, there must’ve been some hidden, because this year another plant formed, rather late in the season, and in a spot where we could afford to leave it to its natural inclinations.
Wow, what a giant beast it grew into! In the dead of summer, in severe heat and drought, without any supplementary water, it grew, and grew, and has produced so many golf ball sized fruits I could’ve easily filled a wheelbarrow with them more than once.
Except the fruit is quite sour, exceptionally seedy and with tough skin. It was a labor intensive process, but after peeling and deseeding, I made a few ferments and I was impressed with the results.
Ferment with mouse melons and varied veggies and herbs.
But, the vines were taking over, moving into our pathways, climbing up fences, choking out everything in its path. So we started pulling it, mowing over it, and generally abusing it on a daily basis.
It lived on! All through the late summer and into our faux fall. It actually started regrowing under the brush pile of leaves and grass we piled on top of its last remaining vines.
While most of the fruit became pig fodder, I’m still impressed with its determination and tenacity and will be finding some wasted space to keep the mystery fruit in our summer rotation. Maybe with the okra, which we aren’t crazy about either, but keep growing as a ‘just in case’ survival crop.
There’s been another ancient garden mystery, which we may have finally solved. I mean ancient in the modern sense, that being over five years in the making. It concerns the herb popularly named ‘Mexican oregano’.
Many years ago I started looking to plant this herb, one of my all-time favorites in the kitchen, and that’s when the quest began.
Now, one would certainly think this herb to be readily available in these parts, considering every year I can find in the garden stores many different varieties of oregano—Greek, Italian, Cuban, Golden, variegated, ornamental, Syrian. Really, Syrian?
No Mexican. And yet, that’s right over our border, certainly a lot closer than Syria. Why can we not find seeds or plants of Mexican oregano?
Years ago this put a bee in my bonnet loud enough to get Hubby on the hunt. Between the two of us we’ve spent many hours calling around, searching online, trying to sift through the mounds of misinformation and redirection.
Yes, it would seem that’s happening not only in politics and history, but even in culinary herbs!
Once we were able to identify the basics of the problem, we honed in on the solution. There are actually two different types of (commercially unavailable) plants called Mexican oregano. We’ve been buying the herb in bulk for years without any problem, but we really want to be growing it ourselves.
~Mexican Bush Oregano (Poliomintha longiflora) Mint family
~Mexican Oregano (lippia graveolens) Verbena family
Of the 2 types, we want to grow the latter, lippia graveolens. It’s a marvelous oregano and not just in Mexican cuisine. The flavor is much less intense than Greek, more like marjoram, but with notes of citrus and thyme. It’s quite unique as far as oregano’s go, which makes sense, since it’s in the verbena family and not the mint family, as most are.
After discovering we cannot find plants or seeds anywhere around here or online, we were really wondering why this is. It’s a very popular herb after all, used in lots of Mexican dishes. We did come across a few sites that claimed to sell the seedlings and small plants, but they were always out of stock.
Finally, Hubby stumbled on a potential answer in an online forum. It was suggested that they don’t sell the seeds because they are too small. We had never thought of this! It was suggested to simply sprinkle some of the herb purchased from the store onto some soil! Wait, what . . . ?
So, I’ve been trying that a couple of times now, and I may have just gotten some positive results.
Baby Mexican Oregano? I’m hoping! Also rooting some lemon-scented geranium, which has done pretty well all summer.
Back to the bad news. We continue to lose trees, old and young, at a dismal rate. This one flashed out dead within one week in July. It’s one of four equally large ones that have come down just this summer. I honestly can’t imagine how that happens so quickly outside of being poisoned. The dead leaves continue to hang there, almost 3 months later, while branches full of dead leaves come down in the slightest wind.
Branches come down, but not the dead leaves.
The spring floods that forced Hubby to rebuild our culvert then turned into the two-month plus drought that made his efforts futile. Still, it had to be done, as the washout was really significant.
Big job for one old man and his old tractor!
The previous culvert was our first job when we bought this property. That time I was a big helper, right alongside Hubby, digging dirt and dragging debris. It was necessary in order to get the car to our camping spot, where we spent many months building the cabin. Hauling in water, no electricity, sleeping in a tent. Ah, the good ole days!
This time I didn’t lift a finger, not even to take photos. He was able to successfully replace the culvert with a structure which we call our ‘bridge to nowhere’.
But, it was still necessary even though we aren’t camping over there anymore, in order to get the tractor to the back half of the property for other reasons—fence repair, any necessary tree felling, or getting to the cabin that’s become an unusually attractive storage room. 😏
Hopefully this one will do the trick for another 15 years or so.
Slaughter season may not sound so appealing, but if you could smell our kitchen when Hubby is cooking up the meats and broths for canning, or making his marvelous split pea soup or sampling sausage mixes before freezing, I think you’d change your tune.
Which reminds me of a bit more news worth sharing. Canning potatoes has been a surprisingly good choice I’d not have expected. Fried potatoes are such a popular food and we eat them weekly. But it’s a pretty labor-intensive process to make good fried potatoes, because you’ve got to cook them twice to get them crisp. This is probably why so many folks rely on the wide variety of frozen French fries and other convenience potato products on the market.
A couple jars of Hubby’s pressure canned potatoes.
While we never get large potato harvests here (besides sweet potatoes that is) Hubby is an excellent sale shopper. When he spots them for really cheap, like they are now at just 19 cents a pound, he’ll buy a big load of them and get prepping.
By getting the first part of the potato prep done in bulk, these canned potatoes are so quick and versatile and delish. It does take a lot of initial time and effort—peeling, chopping, pressure canning, but it’s well worth it.
All you have to do then for perfectly crisp ‘fries’ is drain and rinse and dry a bit, then toss them in your hot oil or fat of choice and in minutes you’ve got a cheaper, healthier, quicker version than most convenience products.
And would you look at that! Such a long and newsy post which I managed without ever mentioning the elephant in my head.
That is the goats. My great summer sorrow. I lost 9 of them; there are just 4 left. And I still can’t face up to it without tearing up.
So, it seems I can be as avoidant, bypassing, stalling, redirecting, minimizing and gaslighting as the best of them, when it suits me. 🥲
Just protecting myself from facing reality, right? How very common.
I failed. I miss them. That dream became a nightmare.
But I can’t end on that sad note, not now. The summer has been hard on the sheep and the dogs, too. We lost several lambs and Hubby was once again nursing Shadow issues for weeks. That’s quite another story, for another time.
Suffice it to say, he’s doing fine now, hurrah!
Better watch out, Shadow’s in loop position, he’s about to pounce!
What an athlete!
And right back to lounge position.
There’s always Bubba, giving free hourly lessons in lounge.
Thanks for stopping by!
Do you have any idea what our mystery plant could be?
An excellent article, rather long with multiple tangents, but well worth the read. He covers quite a bit of weather terrorism, and the completely justified outbursts about the globalist disaster capitalism, but that’s not the part that most interested me today.
He also talks about rebuilding. He’s got some fantastic inspiration on what true resilience looks like, and it’s not even close to what’s being sold as our only options after a crisis.
I’d LOVE to rebuild in such a way right here, right now.
But another weather disaster is not what we want to force that to happen, thanks anyway weather terrorists!
resilience in the face of adversity
“a typical new house built in the US is made with energy intensive (and very pricey) materials that come from all over the world, materials that have nothing to do with blending into the local environment. Additionally, most of those imported building materials are toxic. The end result is a butt-ugly house that’ll be outgassing toxic fumes into the living space for decades. To make mater worse, it’ll look and feel completely foreign to its location. The only people who benefit from such a house are the globalists who control the globalist building material supply chains and write the costly, globalist building codes.
The reason so many butt ugly, toxic, expensive houses like this get built is because the same globalists who get local authorities to impose national building codes that require their toxic globalist building products – codes and products that give no consideration to local conditions and resources – are the same globalists that provide the textbooks and pay for architectural curriculum’s at universities that dole out the architectural degrees we are told are needed to design a house. The traditional concept of vernacular architecture – buildings made from local resources that allows them to blend well into their location – was long ago tossed aside in most modern architectural university programs in favor of driving up costs to increase globalist profits.
The house construction industry is as big of a toxic, globalist rip-off as the pharmaceutical industry.
Now we have FEMA moving in to “assist” with rebuilding. Right. One thing we can count on is that anything FEMA does will be closely linked to the industrial housing complex. That means toxic building materials that have nothing to do with the local vernacular will reign supreme.
Be forewarned – anyone who signs up for housing relief help from FEMA will be locked into the toxic, industrial housing complex.
Thankfully, as of right now, building a house doesn’t require one to be dependent on university trained architects or the toxic, globalist building supply chain.
Let’s get into that.
Three wonderful building resources are in abundance Western NC: stone, trees and bamboo. The stone and trees are native, most of the bamboo was introduced long ago. As I pointed out in the following post, one of the benefits of building with native resources is that you end up with a home that blends in with the native landscape – it looks like it belongs there because it is made of materials from that place. That is the essence of vernacular architecture. Another benefit of building with local resources is that, in the event of another disaster, the resources needed to do repairs are readily available from your native ecosystem.
No, these techniques may not work everywhere, and they shouldn’t. That’s what makes vernacular architecture so unique. It all depends on the natural resources available in your area. You want your home to blend in with your region, not my region. Don’t let a globalist suit sitting in a distant tower in New York City tell you how to build a house in Florida, North Carolina or New Mexico.
I once picked up a hitchhiker from England. He had already been traveling around the US for 3 months. He was a recent graduate with a degree in architectural. He was understandably disappointed with the architecture in the US, saying it was all very homogenous. He was right, of course. That’s what comes with globalism’s shortsighted, one size fits all, economy of scale mentality. Local resources and landscapes are not on the radar of most university architectural programs in the US. In the same way that modern doctors know nothing about nutrition, modern architects know nothing about vernacular architecture.
He told me that if someone were to blindfold him and take him to any rural area of England and removed the blindfold, he could tell where he was just by the vernacular architecture of the place. That is the epitome of resilience in home construction. It’s also the epitome of pride of place and a sense of community, all of which are lacking under the strong arm of the centralized, globalist technocracy in the US.
Those recovering from disasters have a choice: They can take the convenient route and sign their life away for government aid, once again becoming addicted to the cheap, toxic, pablum of globalist syphilization, and hope that another disaster doesn’t affect them or their childrens grandchildren. Or, they can become resilient.
I’ve written several times about this tree in past posts and have been meaning to include it in the Herbal Explorations for some time. Thanks once again to Gavin Mounsey for putting a bee in my bonnet! His contributions are featured below.
Photo credit: Gavin Mounsey
A quick peak at a couple of those previous posts of mine to set the stage:
One of my favorite trees, the Sassafras, is flaming red now, one of the few to have changed so brilliantly in this unusually warm and dry fall in East Texas. Between now and winter is the best time to clip the leaves and dig up the tenacious roots so as to indulge in a couple of our ancestors’ favorite libations—root beer and Sassafras tea. Gumbo filé is also made from it, which is an essential ingredient in some Cajun cooking.
Our ancestors adored it, science calls it a carcinogen. At the same time vast groves of it are grown in regions of the globe more easily controlled, in order to mass extract their saffrole to make a highly concentrated and synthetic version of the popular street drug called ecstasy.
A quite undermined tree of the South, considering its illustrious origins and conspiratorial fate. It is a tree widely cultivated in Asia-Pacific as an essential ingredient to the popular drug, or versions of it anyway, generally called “ecstasy”.
At first, like cannabis, it was classified among the most harmful of substances by the FDA, though our ancestors had previously been very acquainted and attached to these and so many other suddenly ‘dangerous’ plants. Then while they were deemed “carcinogenic” by our government, simultaneously expanding was its cultivation in foreign countries for the manufacture of street drugs. This was actually before “Poppy Bush” but perhaps setting that very precedent for the former president?!
While I’ve no idea how to make the popular street drug, I can assure you it makes a deliciously fragrant tea, traditional root beer, and gumbo filé powder.
As for the drug version, I did come across this for any who wish to research further along those lines.
“The most common synthetic routes for production of MDA, MDMA, MDE (MDEA), and MDOH are from the precursor MDP-2-P. To get MDP-2-P first a natural source of safrole is acquired. Safrole can be extracted from sassafras oil, nutmeg oil, or several other sources which have been abundantly documented in Chemical Abstracts over the years. The safrole is then easily isomerized into isosafrole when heated with NaOH or KOH.”
Zubrick, James W. “The Organic Chem Lab Survival Manual: A Students Guide to Techniques.” ISBN #0471575046. Wiley John&Sons Inc. 3rd ed.
Some partial information from The Druid’s Garden, visit her post for much more!
“Sassafras has been called by many names and these names help teach us some of her power: auge tree, saxifrax, cinnamon wood, cinnamonwood, saloop, smelling stick, chewing stick, tea tree, winauk (Native American in Delaware and Virginia); Pauane (Timuca Indians); Kombu (Choctaw); and weyanoke (Algonquin).
Sassafras is typically a fairly small tree, growing 20-40 feet in height with a trunk 1-2 feet in diameter in the northern end of her range. In southern portions of its range, she can grow much larger, up to 100 feet high. Her wood is soft and light-colored with a faint aromatic Sassafras smell. Her wood is brittle, coarse-grained, and rot-resistant although it is not very strong. Typically, her wood has been commercially used for posts and lumber, but wood carvers also enjoy working with it. Sassafras is dioecious, that is, the male and female flowers appear on separate trees. The females will eventually have fruits ripen (which occur around midsummer) whereas the male trees will not.”
Medicinal Uses of Sassafras
“Sassafras Root Spring Tonic: As described above, the Sassafras was taken internally for a variety of healing purposes throughout the ages. Traditional herbalism recognizes Sassafras as a “spring tonic” or “blood purifying” or “blood thinning” herb and is used in the spring in quantity for this purpose. In 1830, Constantine Rafinesque wrote, “The Indians use a strong decoction to purge and cleanse the body in the spring” (Quoted in Wood, 315, New World Herbs). Wood notes that it “promotes clear thining in old age from good circulation to the brain, to improve the peripheral circulation to rid the joints of arthritic depositions, and to promote diuresis” (316). Euell Gibbons in Hunting the Wild Asparagus notes that traditionally, Sassafras Root tea was made with maple sap water for spring tonic. He noted that even in the 1950’s, when he wrote his book, that many folks still drink Sassafras tea “as a spring tonic, believing that it thins the blood and prepares the body to better stand the coming heat of summer.” Gibbons offers this medicinal tea: 3 tablespoons of honey, 3 tablespoons of vinegar (I would suggest a fire cider here) and 1 quart sassafras tea. Chill and serve as a spring tonic.
“Blood and Circulatory System: Today, herbalists recognize sassafras root as a warming, spicy, and aromatic herb that functions as an alterative (tonic) for the liver with mild antiseptic qualities. It has a specific action on the blood and circulatory system, stimulating blood flow and enhancing periphery circulation.”
Gavin Mounsey offers more interesting info in his recent note:
“The small tree known as sassafras (Sassafras albidum) was once one of the most prized plants of Turtle Island (aka “North America”). In 1565, Francis Drake returned to England with a cargo hold full of sassafras roots, and set off something of a craze for sassafras tea, or saloop. By the next century it had become a major export item, almost equal in value to tobacco. Europeans accepted the claims of most eastern Native American tribes about its effectiveness as an all-purpose medicine and tonic, and that combined with its wonderful taste and aroma — Thoreau called it “the fragrance of lemons and a thousand spices” — eventually guaranteed its place as the root in root beer. John Lawson, an early explorer of the southern Appalachians, wrote in 1709, “Sassafras was a straight, neat little tree… treasured by the Indians for its aromatic roots, from which, when pounded, a potion can be brewed to refresh or cure, according to his needs.”
“Early colonists consumed a lot of beer, and it probably didn’t take long before someone got the bright idea of adding sassafras roots to the mix of herbs and spices typically added for flavor and medicinal effect. It might seem strange to think of beer as a health drink, but for many centuries, it was far safer to drink than most available sources of fresh water, being first subjected to a prolonged boil and then made alcoholic. Weak beers were consumed in roughly the same quantities as Americans today drink Coke or Pepsi, but with less serious health risks, since the sugar was all turned into alcohol (and medicinal phytochemicals can be effectively preserved and delivered in a bioavailable format in naturally fermented alcohol based beverages).
“The modern herbalist Stephen Harrod Buhner (Sacred and Herbal Healing Beers, Brewers Publications, 1998) has this to say about brewing with sassafras:
“Sassafras was the original herb used in all “root” beers. They were all originally alcoholic, and along with a few other medicinal beers — primarily spruce beers — were considered “diet” drinks, that is, beers with medicinal actions intended for digestion, blood tonic action and antiscorbutic properties. The original “root” beers contained sassafras, wintergreen flavorings (usually from birch sap), and cloves or oil of cloves. Though Rafinesque notes [in 1829] the use of leaves and buds, the root bark is usually used, both traditionally and in contemporary herbal practice.
“Beer” was used loosely to refer to a variety of lightly alcoholic drinks made with whatever sugar was on hand; both the recipes Buhner offers, for example, use molasses instead of malted grain, as does this one I found in The National Farmer’s and Housekeepers Cyclopedia from 1888:
“Root Beer.—To make Ottawa root beer, take one ounce each of sassafras, allspice, yellow dock, and wintergreen, half an ounce each of wild cherry bark and coriander, a quarter of an ounce of hops, and three quarts of molasses. Pour boiling water on the ingredients, and let them stand twenty-four hours. Filter the liquor, and add half a pint of yeast, and it will be ready for use in twenty-four hours.
“I was excited to see the mention of wild cherry bark — something I had considered using in my own brewing, but hadn’t found any actual mention of until now. I have brewed with all the other substances mentioned, though not all at the same time. (I wasn’t terribly thrilled with the flavor of yellow dock in beer.) But I’m more of a purist than Buhner: I do insist upon using malted grain (or malt extract) as the primary source of sugar, though I will use molasses or honey as adjuncts, in small quantities.
“And I feel the early colonists probably made their root beers, spruce beers, and other healthful brews with malt, too, whenever they could. From an early date, many larger farmhouses had their own brewing operations, and taverns brewed beer in every town and village, first with malts imported from Europe, but quite soon from locally grown grain. A 1685 report from William Penn suggests that malt was substituted for molasses as soon as real brewing became practical:
“Our Drink has been Beer and Punch, made of Rum and Water: Our Beer was mostly made of Molosses, which well boyld, with Sassafras or Pine infused into it, makes very tollerable drink; but now they make Mault, and Mault Drink begins to be common, especially at the Ordinaries and the Houses of the more substantial People.
“In 1750, the Swedish botanist Peter Kalm, interviewing a nonagenarian for his book Travels in North America, learned that the early Swedish colonists of what is now eastern Pennsylvania, Delaware and New Jersey had been “plentifully provided with wheat, rye, barley and oats. The Swedes, at that time, brewed all their beer of malt made of barley, and likewise made good strong beer.” And of sassafras specifically, he wrote, “Some people peel the root, and boil the peel with the beer which they may be brewing, because they believe it wholesome.” He adds: “The peel is put into brandy, either while it is distilling or after it is made.” Nor was ordinary tea neglected: “An old Swede remembered that his mother cured many people of the dropsy by a decoction of the root of sassafras in water drunk every morning.”
“Kalm also mentions the preservative and antiseptic properties of sassafras, which must’ve played a role in its popularity as a brewing ingredient as well (hops were far from the only herb understood to help keep beer from going “off”):
“Several of the Swedes wash and scour the vessels in which they intend to keep cider, beer or brandy with water in which sassafras root or its peel has been boiled, which they think renders all those liquors more wholesome. Some people have their bedposts made of sassafras wood to repel the bed bugs, for its strong scent, it is said, prevents vermin from settling in them. … In Pennsylvania some people put chips of sassafras into their chests where they keep woolen stuffs, in order to expel the moths which commonly settle in them in summer.
“A slightly later (and much more famous) botanist-traveler, William Bartram, mentioned a very different root beer formula from the standard recipe, which makes me wonder how many other sassafras-based concoctions might have been made at one time. Writing about a southern Appalachian plant now known as Bignonia capreolata or crossvine, he wrote, “The country people of Carolina chop these vines to pieces, together with china brier [i.e. Smilax pseudochina] and sassafras roots, and boil them in their beer in the spring, for diet drink, in order to attenuate and purify the blood and juices.”
“Lo how the mighty have fallen. Safrole, the active compound in sassafras, has been banned by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration since 1976 as a supposed carcinogen, and as a consequence sassafras may no longer be prescribed by herbalists, though commercial brewers and root beer manufacturers may still use a safrole-free extract. For the homebrewer willing to ignore the FDA’s finding — which even the very conservative Peterson Field Guide to Medicinal Plants and Herbs of Eastern and Central North America rejects as absurd — it’s a matter of locating a thick stand of sassafras on some dry ridgetop and getting permission from the landowner to dig a few roots.
“The tree grows like a “weed”, and with its distinctive leaves it’s impossible to mistake for anything else. How will you be able to tell if a given root is sassafras, and not from a neighboring tree? Just scratch and sniff. If it has “the fragrance of lemons and a thousand spices,” you’ve hit pay dirt.
“This species along with a handful of others will be introduced to several community food forest projects I have in the works intended to both provide habitat for displaced Ontario Carolinian forest non-human inhabitants while also providing food, medicine and materials for humans in a regenerative way.”
That’s so great to hear, Gavin, let’s set The Science straight! 😊
I’m adding another from Gavin’s Newsletter to the Herbal Explorations pages—the very popular Lemon Balm. Gavin does such a thorough job of covering it and I’m excited to start working with it more. I grow it, like mint, mostly for the bees, but like mint, I don’t use it nearly enough.
I’ve copied some favorite parts from his article below, but I’m sure I’ll be referencing it again directly in the future.
I really recommend viewing his full post and would love for any readers to add your own experiences with growing and using lemon balm as well, here in the comments section.
“I love this plant as it is very easy to grow (in fact, it now grows itself in our garden without any assistance) it provides forage for native pollinators while repelling mosquitoes and provides a long list of medicinal benefits. Lemon balm’s pain-relieving properties may make it an ideal choice for relieving muscle and toothache pain. In addition to drawing on its relaxing properties, this home remedy targets inflammation in the body.
“The leaves of lemon balm contain potent astringent and antibacterial properties useful for many things including cleansing wounds and pores to reduce blackheads. Due to rosmarinic acid, one of lemon balm’s key antioxidant ingredients, the herb also benefits the complexion. On top of all that, this herb is versatile in a culinary sense (providing fresh and enlivening flavors and aromas that lend themselves to enhancing creations in the kitchen).
“In the late 14th century, the nuns of the Carmelite Abbey in France began to make a “miracle water” using the lemon balm found in the monastery’s gardens. This is known as Carmelite water, which consisted of multiple herbs and spices with Melissa officinalis always as the main ingredient. This “perfume,” as it was called, was very fragrant and it was used to cover body odors as people seldom bathed in those days. This formula was also called “Eau de Melisse,” and it was revered by kings and nobles as well as commoners. It became a popular cure-all for various ailments and was used both internally and externally. Nicholas Culpepper, the 15th century English botanist and physician, praised the virtues of Carmelite water writing: “It causeth the Mind and Heart to becom merry, and reviveth the Heart fainting to foundlings, especially of such who are overtaken in their sleep, and driveth away al troublesome cares and thought…
“By the middle ages it was cultivated throughout all of Europe. Spiritually it is said in some cultures that lemon balm is known to balance feelings and emotions. It was used in ritual baths to invoke the Goddess, making you more appealing in the world of love and romance. Lemon balm has been associated with the feminine, the moon and water. It was considered sacred in the temple of the ancient Roman goddess Diana. It was first mentioned in medieval manuscript as “Herbe Melisse” in 1440. ( It’s botanical name, Melissa, stands for “bee” in Greek. Avicenna, a Muslim herbalist, recommended Melissa “to make the heart merry”. The Swiss physician and alchemist Paracelsus (1493-1541) believed that lemon balm was an “elixir of life” and would increase strength and lengthen life. After it’s introduction by settlers and subsequent naturalization (in what is now known as the United States) the Cherokee people used the herb as a remedy for fevers, colds, chills and typhus.”
“Lemon balm contains within it the virtues of a dozen other plants” ~ Hildegarde von Bingen 12th century mystic and healer of Germany
“Keep in mind that like mint, lemon balm grows incredibly fast in rich, well drained, moist soil that receives lots of sun. In the right conditions, it can even become massive. Once you discover all of the useful benefits of having this plant around, I’m sure you’ll be more than fine with that!
“Lemon Balm Repels Annoying Bugs This herb has the ability to repel ants, mosquitoes, and flies with its high amount of compounds that resemble the scent of citronella. Try making this easy herbal no bug balm to keep those pesky mosquitoes at range. Out on a hike and forgot to bring your bug balm? Find some lemon balm, crush the leaves, and rub them directly onto your skin! The same can be said of yarrow.
“As We Explored Above, Lemon Balm has Medicinal Benefits: Not only is this plant great in the garden, but it’s also an excellent gem to keep in your herbal remedy cabinet.
“Ancient Greeks used lemon balm steeped in wine to relieve the symptoms of fevers. Put together your own ginger and lemon balm cold/flu syrup to relieve those same symptoms today.
“This super healing lip balm uses the antiviral effects of lemon balm to quickly clear up cold sores. You can also use it in an herbal salve to speed healing of minor wounds. Lemon balm may also reduce menstrual cramps and premenstrual syndrome when taken daily for a prolonged period of time.
Lemon Balm also Attracts Beneficial Wildlife.
Traditional Medicinal Uses:
“Herbal Actions: Nervine: acts on the nerves. Sedative: calming agent. Mild Antidepressant: relieves feelings of depression. Mild Antispasmodic: reduces voluntary or involuntary muscle spasm. Carminative: gently calms the nerves. Lemon balm is a relaxing diaphoretic as opposed to a stimulating diaphoretic. Antiviral: destroys or suppresses growth of viruses, generally by supporting the immune system. Antioxidant: prevents free radical or oxidative damage. Specific use for dyspepsia associated with anxiety and/or a depressive mood. It is indicated for someone with symptoms typical of hyperthyroidism (inhibits TSH binding to receptors): anxiety, restlessness, palpitations, headache, and excitability and also is a mild anti-depressant. It strengthens the brain and its resistance to stress/shock, and lifts the spirits. It has tonic effects on the heart and circulatory system and can be used topically for herpes and other viral infections. Can also be used topically for gout and internally for rheumatism and neuralgias.
Practical Uses:
“What do you do with lemon balm? The most useful parts of this plant (and the way it found its name) are the leaves.
Compounds are extracted from the leaves and used to make lemon balm oil, tincture, salves and various medicines.
You can use the leaves in combination with other powerful herbs such as Yarrow in order to make effective (all natural, non-toxic and skin enhancing) mosquito repellant. Here is a link to an example of one such recipe: https://thenerdyfarmwife.com/lemon-balm-bug-spray/
Some of the most popular lemon balm uses include using the leaves in the kitchen to make tea and flavor dishes, as well as to create perfume oils and insect repellents. Some people even use it to make homemade toothpaste.”
Gavin’s article continues with many more pages of useful details about Lemon Balm, including lots of recipes and more detailed medicinal uses, loads of links and references and excellent images.
Accepting the unacceptable. We all must learn to do it, they say. It’s the Gospel of all Gospels. Humility. Here we must go into the higher realms of consciousness. Those feared and revered and most hallowed of places where we learn how to bow gracefully. Where we learn our pride is misplaced. Where we learn to swallow our tears. Where we learn to stifle our voices and especially to keep with the program.
Did you learn all the right tricks? Do you still pledge allegiance to the flag on cue? Do you still believe the hollow rituals and shapeshifting lies?
Lucky you! Here’s to the happy few!
Historic picture of Bathhouse Row, Hot Springs, Arkansas
A short trip to Hot Springs, Arkansas and I’m deep in the sticks, and deep into pondering the relevance of free speech. Why? Because I realize you can’t have free speech in a nation if you don’t have free speech in your own family.
It’s more than freedom of speech, it’s freedom of thought, which begets freedom of information, which begets freedom of ideas freely circulating, because one hardly exists without the others.
We don’t have that and we need everyone to stop pretending that we do.
It’s much more all encompassing than I think most folks realize. It begins in the family, because it begins in consciousness, which is something that is exceptionally easy to limit. Especially when we are very young. A few simple lies of omission and generations are easily compromised.
Imagine what chaos the biggest lies create.
It’s happening in the micro and macrocosms simultaneously, filling up, in and through, the waters of life, saturating the atmosphere itself, all has been compromised. It would seem not just the walls, but even the air, have ears.
I learned a new word on the roadtrip there while listening to a podcast: Iatrogenesis – from Wikipedia
“Iatrogenesis is the causation of a disease, a harmful complication, or other ill effect by any medical activity, including diagnosis, intervention, error, or negligence.[1][2][3] First used in this sense in 1924, the term was introduced to sociology in 1976 by Ivan Illich, alleging that industrialized societies impair quality of life by overmedicalizing life. Iatrogenesis may thus include mental suffering via medical beliefs or a practitioner’s statements. Some iatrogenic events are obvious, like amputation of the wrong limb, whereas others, like drug interactions, can evade recognition. In a 2013 estimate, about 20 million negative effects from treatment had occurred globally. In 2013, an estimated 142,000 persons died from adverse effects of medical treatment, up from an estimated 94,000 in 1990.”
In Hot Springs I’m headed directly to Bathhouse Row in the National Historic Landmark District, part of the Hot Springs National Park, alone, for a bit of site seeing. Back in my heavy travel days I often traveled alone and I don’t mind it, I actually rather like it, in moderation. It does get lonely, and sometimes awkward, but that’s balanced with the reality that I’ve known very few people in my life who appreciate the same types of exploration that I do.
A National Historic Landmark District nestled inside a National Park, that’s an awful lot of ‘protection’.
Bathhouse Row—Where our ancestors once turned to bathing in mineral springs and walking in wooded mountains to restore health. How silly!
More online historic photos of Bathhouse Row
I like visiting odd and anomalous sorts of places off the beaten track. I like old architecture and ruins. I especially like the places where city and nature become fused.
Hot Springs, Arkansas is definitely one of those places. And so much more. Bathhouse Row was once a spa destination for the rich and famous and boasted healing springs on par with the greatest European spa cities, like Karlovy Vary and Baden-Baden.
That was definitely boasting, I’ve been to many of them. But, there’s no doubt in its heyday it was very impressive. Especially considering Arkansas has for a century at least been considered a hillbilly-type haunt in the middle of the ‘flyover states’ and certainly not a hotspot for anything, except maybe the Dixie Mafia.
But, like in so many other places, something very strange is happening with the history, and I don’t mean the tall tales of gangster stories and bizarre wax museums and outrageously lame ‘haunted house’ tours meant to sell over-priced tickets to the vaudeville-loving masses.
What I really want to know is: What are they actually still hiding here in plain sight? And how is it they are still able to get away with tearing down pristine architecture and carting away the evidence unquestioned, even in the protected area of a National Park, which is Bathhouse Row?
So I started to do a bit of digging.
“The Bathhouse Row cultural landscape is located along the foot of Hot Springs Mountain. It is identified it as one of six landscape character areas within the 18-acre Reservation Front. The cultural and natural features of the surrounding areas are evidence of the historic recreational and spa experience that have brought visitors to Hot Springs since the 1830s. Bathhouse Row is historically designated as an “architectural park” in which the buildings and landscape were designed to be a cohesive unit.”
“According to the National Historic Landmarks Program the status of Bathhouse Row was threatened as most of the historic bathhouses were vacant and are not being maintained. Some have had “damaging uses” contributing to the severe physical deterioration of the majority of the historic bathhouses. Bathhouse Row was added to the National Trust for Historic Preservation list of “11 Most Endangered Places” in 2003. It was removed in May 2007 because the National Park Service began to rehabilitate the buildings. Hot Springs National Park now rents the renovated structures to commercial enterprises who submit an approved request for qualifications. The restoration of Bathhouse Row and commercial leasing of public structures has become a model for similar projects across the country.”
In 2007 the NPS began to rehabilitate the buildings? You mean, like, these abandoned buildings I photographed a few weeks ago? Of which there were plenty more.
Very clearly not being renovated, not even a little!
So, they say Bathhouse Row will be a model for similar projects across the country, eh? My guess that is a model for how to. . . stall, defraud, gaslight, loot, and plunder, all while spinning a positive image of public care and service.
As a case in point there’s the demolished Majestic Hotel Resort Complex where I walked among the ruins.
There’s even been a documentary on the ‘controversial’ decision to demolish it by a young filmmaker who is making his career in filming abandoned buildings. He certainly has a long and busy career ahead of him! The Abandoned Atlas Foundation.
So I paid the few dollars to watch his story about the destruction of the once glorious Majestic Hotel and the (pathetically meager) attempt of a few locals to stop it.
An online historic photo of the multiple-acre Majestic Hotel Complex
A few interesting points I learned from the film:
The Majestic was sold for $1.00 (One Dollar) with the legal agreement that it would be repaired and reopened within a few years. That did not happen, though no problem for the buyer, he incurred no punishment and resold the abandoned buildings for a cool $2 mill. What does he care?
Our hands are tied, a few locals cry! The city is run by the mafia!
Apparently the city has always been run by the Mafia. Which makes perfect sense right, because the official story is the city went into major and rapid decline as soon as gambling was made illegal. So, we went from pristine health resort, to rich and famous gambling haven, to neglect and dilapidation within just a few decades.
My those gangsters and gamblers were sure able to fill a lot of hotels!
Seeing what an enormous challenge they had to save this architectural gem, they bring in the big guns to fend off this centuries-long all-powerful Mafia, which apparently still runs this neglected National Historic treasure that is Bathhouse Row in the middle of a National Park: An Asian ‘local’ historian who barely speaks English, a novice documentarian who waxes romantic over logoed plastic pens from a decade ago, a full-time nurse wannabe local politician, and some clueless young architecture students from another state.
Brilliant! I can’t believe that didn’t work!
The documentary does not answer any of the questions I would’ve asked, but then, they never do. Questions like:
What happened to all those red and yellow bricks? As well as all the other artifacts, that is, besides those awesome plastic pens the filmmaker found. And, where did the materials come from to build all that in the first place? That’s an awful lot of infrastructure to build into the sides of mountains at a time when local folks were mostly moving around in horse-drawn carts.
And why were They (the Mafia?) so keen on destroying it all? What do they care about some old buildings anyway, considering demolition costs are super expensive?
While the documentarian gushes at his found pens, he misses every other clue and congratulates himself and his fellows for creating an everlasting tribute to yet another ruined structure.
Poor sod, didn’t you ever learn you must . . . Follow the yellow brick road?
“Originally named the Avenue Hotel, the Majestic was built in 1882 on the site of the old Hiram Whittington House. The Avenue Hotel was notable for its amenities such as streetcar service to transport guests to and from the bath houses every five minutes. In 1888, the Avenue Hotel was renamed the Majestic Hotel after the Majestic Stove Company of St. Louis, Missouri, though the precise connection is unclear.”
(Since it’s so unclear, good thing you chose to include it in your online information encyclopedia, such a fascinating unclear detail!)
Free speech can’t save us now, because there’s not enough people willing, or capable, of speaking freely from a place of wisdom and clarity. Just look what passes for encyclopedic facts these days.
The confiscated bricks, like our confiscated history, may as well be ground into the Smart Dust eternally absorbing the consciousness of the masses.
As we watch and record the destruction of our country As we wonder, how it has come to this As we wait for the next shoe to drop And the next Still, we remain Still As the deer in headlights Still As he charmed by the snake Still As she alarmed by her fate
Doomed As we watch and record the destruction of our lives As we wonder Still As we stop wondering Still We remain As the fox wanders by . . .
A fox occupying the ruins of the once Majestic Hotel and Bathhouse
This posts aims to answer the question: Would there be anything redeeming about August in East Texas if it weren’t for the watermelons?
I repeat this every year. But I can’t help repeating it again. When we first came here and I’d spent my first August, I was mostly without Hubby because he would often get stuck offshore in the Gulf for bad weather or working over for vacationing colleagues. I swore I would find a way to travel in August, just like the French.
The heat is brutal, the garden mostly gone. Actually, it amazes me anything can survive out there, and yet, plenty of plants are thriving.
And now I can’t imagine having a happy vacation when we’ve got bushels of grapes to harvest and after that bushels of pears, which then must all be processed.
Into wine! I know I shouldn’t whine. It’s not every year we get either good grapes or good pears, and this year we’ve got both.
My wine lab, soon to be greatly expanding. 😊
Wine-making has proven to be a reasonable replacement for my sudden loss in cheese-making ability. That story has only gotten worse, so I’m going to avoid telling it, at least for now. Like I said, August is bad enough already.
The healthy half of the herd.
While we have made hard cider from the pears and a bit of wine from grapes in past years, I really had no idea how versatile wine-making could be. Since last post I’ve added cantaloupe wine to the rows—joining Elderberry, Blackberry, Wild grape, and mead.
Cantaloupe wine? Who knew! But after giving these great big delicious 20- pounders to friends and eating them daily we still had so many and they were ripening so fast we had to do something. We forgot to keep track, but we had at least 15 of them, off only 3 plants.
‘Ole Tyme Tennessee’ melon
Enough to make 3 gallons of wine. I plan to make cider from it as well. Imagine all the fun we’ll be having wine tasting in December! (That’s exactly what I’m doing, a lot of imagining, to keep my mind off the miserable sweltering reality.)
Now we’ve also got a couple buckets going of our cultivated grapes: white and red muscadines, sometimes also known as Scuppernongs.
“A glass of scuppernong wine is better for a body than a shot of penicillin.”
If you’re not from the Southern US you’ve probably never heard of Scuppernongs because they don’t have a good reputation among wine connoisseurs and don’t grow north of the Mason-Dixon line, as far as I know.
And they aren’t really suitable for table grapes either, unless your table allows for a lot of spitting.
Good enough for country wines, they say. So, good enough for me!
In fact they are really delicious. Beyond bursting with juicy sweetness, the green ones especially have varied and complex notes, sharp and earthy. The red ones have such an huge pop of intense grape flavor I’m reminded of manufactured fake grape flavors from childhood, Jolly Ranchers and Bubbalicious gum. Sad, but true, since I never tasted such fruit as a kid.
Except, that these have a tough skin and big seeds. And they are really a pain to harvest. If the weather were nice it wouldn’t be so bad at all. But the thing about muscadine grapes is they don’t ripen in nice clusters like the fancy grapes of more civilized peoples. 😆
Every other day we’re out there gathering these plump gems from under their enormous vines, one by one, little jewels among the masses of deep green leaves. They’ve done remarkably well this year, after a dismal last year, and a meager crop the year before, and just when we were starting to worry all our hard work planting them was wasted.
I wish we knew the trick, Hubby tends the vines and he did nothing different this year from the previous.
Our beautiful grape vines beneath a disgusting chem-filled sky.
We did have the big rain with a nice temperature drop, which also brought down another big tree, right through a fence, as per usual. It seems we lose a big tree with every rain event these days.
Too bad, because that oak has been providing a lot of acorn forage for the critters in autumn. There are several other nearby mature oaks looking like they are also about to keel over.
But, the pears have been spared and that will be our next big project in the blazing heat. Yay! 🤪
Three hard pear trees, two which were the only cultivated fruit trees here when we arrived, abandoned and still producing, bringing the feral hogs many happy meals. They produce prolifically when they produce, which is every 3 years on average. Plus one we planted in our still struggling orchard, it does really well most years, having gotten the regular run-off from our duck tub from it’s early years.
But the real pièce de résistance this year especially has been the watermelons.
They’ve not been as prolific as the cantaloupes, but they are some of the best I’ve ever eaten. Watermelons are Hubby’s preference, so he’s been in hog heaven every day, and the hogs are in a similar heaven with all the rinds they’ve been eating.
August has a few redeeming qualities after all. I don’t think I could make it through otherwise.
At sunset, within one hour they all open together while the bees get furiously busy. If you can’t catch the scent at just that initial pip of release, it’s instantly gone. Such an inimitable fragrance, enough to keep a woman longing, just long enough, that August might be gone again, and we’ll forget. It’s not so bad, right?
Until the next August.
Datura inoxia perhaps signaling the season of intoxia? Because we’re making lots of wine and it helps to get intoxicated to get through it? 😆
I’ve been doing lots of research concerning the goats and so appreciate the kind help and suggestions from others.
It really is a quandary just like I went through with the bees. Treatment-free types are the anti-Vaxxers of the animal husbandry world, getting similar treatment from the established voices—that is cursed, mocked, belittled and silenced.
And that’s not the worse part, not for me anyway.
It’s far worse not being able to find honest, untainted information. The goat world, like the bee world, is dominated by the industry standards, which has penetrated into every conceivable space of our reality.
In the U.S. that means public-private partnerships that wholly infiltrate the information and therefor the society through the university system and popular organizations like the 4-H club.
Many of our best and brightest agriculture enthusiasts start very young, showing animals and winning awards based on criteria that then get distributed into general farming life. Very little attention is paid to the actual results of this process, not even the simple stuff—like considering whether purebreds are really the best option when stellar looks and trainability aren’t the owners’ top priorities.
Which got me thinking . . .
Might we make an analogy that it’s kinda like ZaZa Gabor playing a starring role in a film like Deliverance?
In other words, are we trying to raise the equivalent of thousand dollar racehorses in two-bit barns? Is that the problem? Or part of it?
“I get allergic smelling hay! I just adore a penthouse view, darlin’ I love ya, but give me Park Avenue!”
My goats hate the rain (makes for a bad hair day?), and would prefer all their meals to be served to them promptly, 3 meals plus snacks, in their communal space (breakfast in bed), with minimal foraging required (just enough to stretch their legs and ease any boredom) plus they need regular brushing (all natural boars hair brush) and their hooves trimmed (mani-pedi), and routine expensive toxic treatments (Botox).
We get frustrated, obviously, but whose fault is it really?
When I got into this I went for the most popular and trusted source who was calling her style ‘natural’.
That’s for me, I want natural!
The most popular ‘natural’ goat rearing book on the market and she has a YT channel.
I’m not saying this is a bad book, I’ve certainly learned a lot from it, but knowing what I know now, I don’t call it ‘natural’ anymore.
These farmers and breeders may be on the path less traveled, but they are most certainly not off the Big Pharma Ferris wheel. And personally, I find that poor word choice to be deceptive.
For example, they advise breeders to cull rather than to risk populating the community of farmers/homesteaders with genetically inferior animals, which sounds like the wise and conscientious choice to make. Right?
Clearly a diligent and conscientious goat farmer/breeder concerned about good health in humans and animals, yet still considering the most natural methods as including enormous amounts of processed inputs and Big Pharma treatments.
However, they’re advising culling the animals which are not responding to the poisoning protocol, not only the ones who are truly resistant to the parasites. And as for true resistance, could they really know which ones, since they’ve been dosed at birth through the milk or, even more likely, in utero?
Yes, the ‘natural’ methods they espouse still include dosing the goats with drugs, just not so indiscriminately, which they at least recognize has caused a huge issue of drug-resistance in the goat-rearing community. They still rely on highly processed feed, hay that’s been sprayed, and they recommend medicated feed for kids. Many of them also advise vaccination.
This is what passes for ‘natural’ now.
So, for the barber pole worm, the notorious sheep/goat killer, which was the most likely culprit in Bluebonnet’s demise, the issue is said to be that these awful worms cause anemia. But, listed on the side effects of the popular dewormers in use is also anemia.
Hmmm. Which came first, the chicken or the egg?
Ivermectin—the infamous horse dewormer both celebrated and cursed during the Convid—has a shockingly long list of potential side effects. Interestingly, in all the social media arguments back and forth among suggested protocols and what or whom was being censored and why, I don’t recall that list coming up anywhere.
These above-linked articles show studies proving its toxicity, but when it comes to the studies themselves, I don’t have much faith in them either. The kinds of studies I’d like to see are those that are appropriate to their environment, and no one does those kinds of studies. No one in farming is dosing their rabbits every single day with Ivermectin in a lab setting. What we need are multi-generational studies with real control groups in natural settings, as in real nature. Science doesn’t do that, yet somehow we accept they are ‘controlling’ inputs and outcomes, and that those results are remotely relevant to the average user, that is, those of us not living in a lab.
Besides Ivermectin, Safe-guard is another farm favorite in these parts.
The following comment comes from my dear friend Kath, a certified herbalist who was also previously a professional nurse in the UK.
Safe-guard:
“I can’t quite believe how bad this drug is! Taken from this article: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC9413524/ ‘When fenbendazole was last reviewed (15 years ago), the literature supported the drug’s lack of toxic effects at therapeutic levels, yet various demonstrated physiologic effects have the potential to alter research outcomes. Although more recent reports continue to reflect an overall discordancy of results, several studies support the premise that fenbendazole affects the bone marrow and the immune system.’
‘. . .lengthy and expensive treatment regimens. including the use of fenbendazole and mechanical disinfection, that may fail due to inadequate ovicidal effects.’ (Ie: won’t kill the worm eggs)
So, step one: Kill a few worms. Weaken the animal. Don’t properly kill the worm eggs. Re-emergence of worms when these eggs hatch. Weakened animals can’t fight off new worms. More drugs. Vicious cycle.
So, companies which make & market this drug very conveniently refer to the old research which states no side effects expected & ignore the possibility & reality of new research showing significant risk. Hmm 🤔
Basically use of this drug this means causing ongoing serious depletion in overall resilience & significantly increased susceptibility to further parasite infestation & whatever-it-is that we used to call infections. Worse potential recovery from anything. And all from a drug whose stated purpose may fail!
So, what to do imo is to work to build resilience by nutrition, herbs & healthy living & maybe try to introduce some wild blood when freshening.
I think this drug is an agenda in itself – not only for animals but humans too. Heavily publicised on Google as an amazing off-label cancer cure. I’ve met people who have been persuaded to take it! That’s right – make their own chemo cocktail!
It’s an agenda because I know how heavily ptb come down on any complementary health practitioner making public statements about cancer cure. It’s literally against the law.
And they put it in animal feed too. It’s a very shortsighted & stupid approach.”
Short-sighted, I couldn’t agree more!
Another popular dewormer: Cydectin From Drugs.com
‘Not for use in female dairy cattle 20 months of age or older (including dry dairy cows), veal calves, and calves less than 8 weeks of age.
For Treatment of Infections and Infestations Due to Internal and External Parasites of Cattle.’
Kath: “This ‘who not to give it to’ suggests it’s toxic to humans & cattle/goats – they wouldn’t make a statement about veal calves if it was a safe thing for humans (or animals) to ingest. Funny how they can balance the illogic of ‘don’t give to babies’ & ‘dose babies by mother’s milk’.
The type of nerve receptor that are targeted by this drug are only found in invertebrates – creatures that don’t have a skeleton. So drug companies have jumped to the assumption that it will paralyse (& kill) only parasites/insects. However – & this is important – the target receptor in invertebrates is very similar to the mammalian – human & animal – receptor for glycine – an important neurotransmitter. Chances are that this drug & its family are at least partly responsible for human & animal depletion & neurological problems, perhaps even paralysis, in goats by direct dosing & in humans via eating meat& milk products/drinking milk from dosed animals.”
Seriously! And they have the nerve to call these treatments ‘natural’ and of course, that old reliable, safe and effective!
(Thank you so much Kath for your addition to this post and to Highlander in last post’s comments for your help and advice, I’m very grateful for your efforts and experiences!)
New marketing suggestion for the CDC:
Hey Moms! If your kids get all their shots on schedule, you’ll look just like Za Za!* 😆 *Results may vary. Consult your pediatrician. (Who, by the way, did a hell of a good job dressed as a pig at last year’s luau in Vegas at our promotional conference that counts as continuing education credits and gets billed to the State. Remember Rule #1: What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas!) 😉 1
It’s been a challenging month on the wee homestead. We’ve had some successes and I am still hopeful for more positive outcomes, but I focus on them overly, because I’m being a bit avoidant, because really, I’m still concerned.
The determinate tomatoes are long gone already, but Hubby’s made many delicious jars of puttanesca and salsa for our future enjoyment. Must keep up morale!
So I’ll share about that this post, along with some happy snaps and surpluses, to help the medicine go down. I know it’s part of the lifestyle. Life, that is.
Yes, I’ve gotten better at it. That is, the death part of life. But also, we must understand our own limitations, and for that we must first broach them.
So if there are still any rose-colored glasses sort of readers remaining here, armor up.
Bye, bye Bluebonnet.* (I share more about my observations on her death at the end, for those who choose to go there.)
I’m so sad to say we’ve lost one of our new mamas, and her mama, our herd queen Summer, has also been very ill. Several of the does are too thin and are not producing enough milk. This all happened quite suddenly. I was training them on the milk stand for a month, even getting a bit of milk from one, I had high hopes of daily cheese-making by now.
Summer and her daughter Bluebonnet, who I figured would one day replace her as herd queen.
The learning curve is so very high and I’ve set myself impossible standards. I do understand that, though that understanding changes little.
I want a treatment-free herd, or no herd at all. Like with the bees, which took me years of failures, I simply cannot stand the industry standard. I cannot abide such total reliance on pharmaceuticals and exotic inputs from far-off lands. I cannot trust the science. I refuse to believe the only way to raise healthy pets and livestock is to poison them with vaccines and parasite treatments and feed them full of processed foods.
There has got to be another way! A much better way!
And I aim to find it.
We are not directly poisoning our garden and still have plenty of success despite the manufactured crazy weather.
I truly believe a large part of the problem is the processed foods causing the need for the supplemental treatments. It’s a vicious cycle and I want off, and I want ALL I see around me every day off it also, including the land, the water, and the air and ALL the critters!
Is that so much to ask?!
But I already know the drill, thanks to the bees. Every professional and expert says that’s impossible. Like with the gardening when we first got here. Every farmer, every gardener, every Farm & Ranch professional, repeating—You’ve got to spray. You’ve got to treat.
There’s a swarm up there, can you see it?It came off this hive and we watched it, amazing! The large pine in front of the tractor is where it stopped. Too high up to catch, but I’m happy to report another totally treatment-free colony repopulating the county.
“Here, follow this quarterly poisoning routine, and all will be well.” NO!
Is it any wonder they all readily accept without objection whatever the hell is being sprayed over our heads at regular intervals?
The latest geoengineered filth-filled skies over our property.
We’re not giving up yet. As long as we have irrigation it will be a jungle out there. But without it we’d be screwed, that’s for sure. It hasn’t rained for nearly 3 weeks.
(Photos below Left to Right) The datura is a blessed monster. The sweet potato vines are prolific and a favorite snack of Summer’s. The melons and green beans are thriving. The indeterminate tomatoes and some of the peppers are doing fairly well under the shade cloth and I’ve been succession planting the cucumbers.
From the front: New cucumbers coming up with purslane to help cool the roots and shading from above, old screens protecting some struggling Romaine lettuce, and a growing grove of well-watered elderberries.
We’ve also been lucky to get some wild grapes, which are now fermenting along with the mead and the blackberry and mulberry wines.
He is literally Hubby’s Shadow!
It’s not an easy life, but it’s a life well-lived. Our first figs of the season, along with our last blackberries.
A Czech classic—so simple—Bublanina, made with blackberries or any number of fresh fruits in season. (Comment below if you want the recipe and I’ll post it. )
*The observation which I’ve found most interesting from Bluebonnet’s death, was that her kids adjusted immediately. She died the evening of the full moon last week. She left the corral with the rest of the herd in the morning, she seemed to be improving, I thought. But then in the afternoon she planted herself under a tree on a hill and wouldn’t leave, even when evening came and the rest of the herd returned to the corral. I went and sat with her there at sunset and stroked her neck and she laid her head on my shoulder. I wanted to be hopeful, but I felt she knew, and I felt horribly helpless. I hope that the feeling of helplessness is the worst feeling in the world. The next morning I woke before dawn and I went back to the tree in the dark, the full moon shining on her corpse.
There was a bit of relief for me that her kids adjusted so quickly. I find it odd really, it was like an immediate weaning. While her mama, Summer, is so ill she stopped producing milk, but her kids are still so attached to her their health is also suffering because they won’t go out and eat with the rest of the herd or accept being bottle fed. I’ve been mixing them special feed dosed with milk replacer and they are doing ok, and Summer today joined the herd again to forage, which I’m praying is a good sign. 🙏
