08 // August // The Nurture Issue

i: Editorial

Our cup runneth over Kyra Pollitt This warm swelling of the year from midsummer to autumn is my favourite time. Keats’ ‘mellow fruitfulness’ sings in my head as the blooms blow, the grasses wave, the berries ripen, the bees buzz, and the wasps build. But I can easily forget how much I’m doing. It’s only the sore swelling of the cleggie bites that reminds me to nurture myself. So, I’ll be trying out Ann King’s recipe for a soothing compress (Notes from the Brew Room), using our Herb of the Month, Goat’s Rue (Galega officinalis).

Dora Wagner not only shares a delightful photo of her childhood ‘goat nanny’ (Anthroposophical Views) but takes us from the mythical origins of the Milky Way through to Rudolph Steiner’s ideas of optimal nutrition. Meanwhile, Ella Leith’s Foraging through Folklore finds an alternative take on the goat, for those with a taste for the darker tale. And if it’s a tale you’re after, take an aphrodisiac stroll with Amanda Edmiston (Botanica Fabula), starting at the Devil’s Shoestring and ending with a Love Apple— you’ll never eat a tomato in the same way again!

The fruits of aphrodisiac labour are the focus of Joseph Nolan’s column (Of Weeds & Weans), as he dispenses invaluable wisdom to parents on matters of breast, bottle, and herbs. I wish my own children could have benefited from his advice. And I’m in awe of new parent and Artist of the Month, Morag Donkin, as she conjures stunning images in oils whilst nurturing her wee one.

Sarah Frances, writing for us for the first time, reminds us how plants nurture us— in sometimes intangible ways —as she recounts what she learned from a biodynamic Arnica harvest. While Our Man in the Field learns some fascinating facts from author Sara Sheridan, as she researches for her new book set amongst the intrepid nineteenth-century botanists of Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh.

In our Book Club, Marianne Hughes reviews a guide to better sleep, which elicited my first pang for the return of dark, starry skies. Jay Whittaker’s jaunty poem, ‘Risky Breasts’ (StAnza Presents…) had me giggling with an altogether different kind of nostalgia. And that’s the beauty of this month— the full, jiggling cup of the season, poised on the brink of spilling summer into winter, present into past.

For Ruth Crighton-Ward, this is a month of change, as she offers us her final Garden Gems. We can’t thank her enough for her wise, entertaining, and stalwart contributions to Herbology News. We wish her the very best. We are delighted to announce that her trowel will pass to Callum Halstead, who will be offering his horticultural wisdom from October onwards, when we return from our summer break.

There will be no Herbology News next month (September) as production team and columnists take a well-earned rest, and reflect on a year in which their contributions have nurtured Herbology News into a fine zine with a broad, international readership. We thank each and every contributor to our pages over the last twelve months. We are delighted with our harvest and already have some exciting seeds in store for next year’s crop. We hope you’ll join us again in October.

To keep you occupied in the meantime, we leave you with Patrick Dunne’s call to do just one small thing in support of the COP26 Coalition. The links are all in The Climate Column. Just add action.

Honorary Executive Editorial team Artistic Director Illustration Finance and Distribution

Catherine Conway-Payne Kyra Pollitt, Ella Leith Maddy Mould Maddy Mould Marianne Hughes

i: Contents i Editorial Frontispiece Contents Artist of the Month

Kyra Pollitt Maddy Mould Morag Donkin

ii Herb of the Month

Marianne Hughes, Hazel Brady

Iii Of Weeds and Weans Anthroposophical Views Notes from the Brew Room

Joseph Nolan Dora Wagner Ann King

iv Our Man in the Field….

David Hughes meets Sara Sheridan

v The Climate Column

Patrick Dunne

vi Natural Nurture

Sarah Frances

vii Garden Gems

Ruth Crighton-Ward

viii Foraging Through Folklore Botanica Fabula StAnza Presents…

Ella Leith Amanda Edmiston Jay Whittaker

ix Book Club Marianne Hughes reviews Sleep – the Elixir of Life: How to Restore Sleep with Herbs and Natural Healing by Christine Herbert (Aeon Books: London, 2021) x Contributors Looking Forward

i: Contents i Editorial Frontispiece Contents Artist of the Month

Kyra Pollitt Maddy Mould Morag Donkin

2 3 4 6

ii Herb of the Month

Marianne Hughes, Hazel Brady

9

Iii Of Weeds and Weans Anthroposophical Views Notes from the Brew Room

Joseph Nolan Dora Wagner Ann King

12 15 19

iv Our Man in the Field….

David Hughes meets Sara Sheridan

22

v The Climate Column

Patrick Dunne

26

vi Natural Nurture

Sarah Frances

30

vii Garden Gems

Ruth Crighton-Ward

34

viii Foraging Through Folklore Botanica Fabula StAnza Presents…

Ella Leith Amanda Edmiston Jay Whittaker

37 41 44

ix Book Club Marianne Hughes reviews Sleep – the Elixir of Life: How to Restore Sleep with Herbs and Natural Healing

by Christine Herbert (Aeon Books: London, 2021) x Contributors Looking Forward

46

51 54

i: Subscribe Sleep— the elixir of life: How to Restore Sleep with Herbs and Natural Healing (Herbert, C.; Aeon Books, 2021) Reviewer: Marianne Hughes Christine Herbert was a biomedical scientist with the NHS for nineteen years before qualifying as a herbalist. She has now practised as a herbalist for twenty-two years. Her wide knowledge of physiology and the action of herbs is reflected in this book, and— showcased through interesting and engaging case studies — so is her wealth of experience in direct practice with clients. While she states that her book is aimed at herbalists, I’d consider it useful to anyone with sleep problems or an interest in sleep.

Herbology

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The book is divided into eleven chapters, with will neverand share, sell, or exploit your email address. themes such as the We effect of stress anxiety And, of should youdigestion wish to on unsubscribe, you just need to drop us on sleep, the effect diet and sleep, and helping babies and children sleep another email.

better. She also considers the urinary system, and issues of pain that cause sleep disturbance.

To subscribe, simply email ‘Add me’ to This book could, therefore, serve as a useful reference manual for specific issues.herbologynews@gmail.com Indeed, in chapters nine and ten— Materia Medica —the author collates all enjoy the herbs and flower News, and would like to support the If you your Herbology essences she uses as remedies, giving publication, we welcome donations to help us pay for our software explanations for their actions.

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The amount donate is entirely up to you and could be as little from the case studies, that you the author takes a holistic, systemic approach to sleep problems. as the price of a cup of herbal tea.

She investigates her clients’ diets and tests for food allergies, as well as exploring life issues Donate via this link. We’ll appreciate it. and any use of pharmaceutical medications.

She makes it clear that therewww.buymeacoffee.com/herbologynews are no quick fixes Seeking Reviewers to sleep problems, and that coming to an understandingHaving of cause trialled is crucial.one print copy this year (it was beautiful), we are Are you reading something you would hoping to launch both a retail offering and a pay-for-paper recommend to others?

In a crowded field of titles about sleep, this is subscription in the autumn. an interesting and informative book. The clear, always interested in reviews of books to this We’re space. cartoon-style drawings add a liveliness toWatch the share with fellow herbal folk. volume, and the recipe for a green smoothie Please simply send us a review, or get in (p.178) looks delicious. touch: herbologynews@gmail.com

i: Artist of the Month

Morag Donkin @moragdonkin This month we are nurturing an emerging talent. Born in Edinburgh in 1990, Morag Donkin graduated from Edinburgh College of Art with a BA Hons Painting degree in 2013.

At the end of her first year of study, in 2011, she was awarded the RSA Keith Prize for best work by a student in the ECA’s annual open exhibition. In her second year, 2012, Morag won the Fleming-Wyfold Award. Since graduating, she has exhibited at the Scottish National Gallery, the Fleming Collection, Edinburgh Filmhouse, The Sutton Gallery, The Open Eye and Edinburgh Fine Art Library, and is now a member of the Scottish Arts Club.

Morag writes: I am a landscape painter, and I am particularly drawn to trees. I often paint trees as one would paint a portrait— exploring the character and taking time to get the detail right. Colour composition is important to me, too. I like to create an atmospheric aesthetic, and use rich layering to do so. In the last couple of years, I have started painting predominantly in acrylic. This medium has allowed me to make work that that has stronger depth of colour and to utilise organic mark-making.

As a new mother, the concept of nurture has taken on new meaning. I've started thinking about how I pass on my appreciation for the natural world.

How can I build connections for him to the woodlands I love and study? I hope that through experiencing nature together, the memories will encourage a yearning in him, so that he continues to grow his own connection to the outdoors.

So much of life is an indoor experience these days. Our need for nature us eternal and beneficial to the human spirit. My work brings the outdoors in, but pales in comparison to immersing oneself in nature.

Morag’s painting can be purchased via her website: www.moragdonkin.co.uk, and she sells a range of greeting cards through her Etsy shop at www.etsy.com/uk/shop/moragdonkindesign

i: Artist of the Month Cover image Replenish 2020 30.5 x 23 cm, acrylic on board £300 Images Summer Hogweed 2020 45.5 x 61cm, acrylic on board £500 Feast of Fire 2020 45.5 x 61cm, acrylic on board £500 Amazondean I 2020 15 x 21cm, acrylic on board NFS Amazondean II 2020 15 x 21cm, acrylic on board NFS Prosperity I 2020 30.5 x 40.5cm, acrylic on board £450 Prosperity II 2020 30.5 x 40.5cm, acrylic on board Prosperity III 2020 30.5 x 40.5cm, acrylic on board £450 Borders of Winter I 2021 60 x 80 cm, acrylic on canvas £550 Borders of Winter II 2021 60 x 80cm, acrylic on canvas £550

Morag Donkin Summer Hogweed

ii: Herb of the Month

Goat’s Rue (Galega officinalis) Marianne Hughes, with illustration by Hazel Brady I had never heard of this herb before I became a student in the RBGE Physic Garden. In the stock bed, one July, I came across a bush covered in white-pink flowers, and alive with bees— this was Goat’s Rue. It was beautiful and flowered all summer long. What I didn’t notice was that bruising the foliage can give a foul smell which, according to Bown (2008) is what gives rise to the name ‘Goat’s Rue’. In German, its name is Pestilenzkraut (ibid.) because Galega officinalis was once an important herb in the treatment of plague, fevers and infectious diseases.

In Greek, however, ‘gala’ means ‘milk’ and ‘ago’ means ‘to bring on’, so Galega suggests a powerful galactagogue— a herb for stimulating the production and flow of milk. It was once fed to livestock to increase milk yield (Bailey, 2004) and Hoffman (2002) notes that in humans it can ‘increase milk output by up to 50% in some cases’. Indeed, an Italian study (cited on gaiaherbs.com) found that a combination of Goat's Rue and Milk Thistle (Silybum marianum) supported normal breast milk production in mothers whose babies were born prematurely. As we are all aware, there is increasing scientific interest in the impact of herbal remedies and the Drugs and Lactation Database of the National Library of Medicine in the USA now contains information on Goat’s Rue. Quoting a wide range of studies, the entry concludes that ‘very limited scientific data exist on the safety and efficacy of Goat’s Rue in nursing mothers or infants’.

As we also know, an absence of evidence is not necessarily evidence of absence.

Since the Egyptian Ebers papyrus of 1550 BC recommended a high fibre diet of wheat grains and ochre, many traditional plant medicines have been recorded as treatments for diabetes. One established action of Goat’s Rue is that of lowering blood sugar levels (Bartram, 1998), so it can be useful in the treatment of diabetes mellitus (though not as a replacement for insulin treatment). Goat’s

Rue was introduced into cultivation in England in 1568 and it seems that Nicolas Culpepper, who published his treatise in 1652, was aware of both diabetes and G. officinalis. Hadden (2005) notes the observation by Paracelsus (1493-1541) that ‘the right dose differentiates a poison from a useful medicine’, and our Goat’s Rue is classed as a Federal Noxious Weed (Class A) in 35 states of the USA. Apparently, Goat’s Rue (or French Lilac or Italian Fitch, as it is also known) contains guanidine from which metformin (trade name: Glucophage, meaning ‘glucose eater’) was derived in the early 1900s and used to treat diabetes (Evidence-Based Medicine Consult, 2015). In 1918, a synthetic form of guanidine was shown to confer hypoglycaemic actions in animals but proved too toxic for clinical use, so an extract of G. officinalis became the

ii: Herb of the Month preferred antidiabetic agent in the 1920s.

Metformin became available in the UK in 1958 for ‘maturity-onset’ (now known as ‘type 2’) diabetes. Hadden (2005) recalls as a junior doctor the friendly approach of a small organisation (Rona), a subsidiary of a small French company (Aron), who marketed metformin in Belfast and Edinburgh.

Consequently, clinical studies were undertaken at the Royal Infirmary in Edinburgh and also in Belfast, which demonstrated the efficacy and safety of metformin. Indeed, metformin remains an established leading treatment for people with type 2 diabetes.

As Bailey (2004) comments: In our high-tech era of drug discovery and development, this first line treatment for type 2 diabetes is little removed from an herbal remedy of the Middle Ages.

References Bailey, C.J. (2004) ‘Metformin: its botanical background’, in Practical Diabetes International (21, 3):115-117 Bartram, T. (1998) Bartram’s Encyclopaedia of Herbal Medicine Robinson: London Bown, D. (2008) Encyclopaedia of Herbs, Royal Horticultural Society, Dorling Kindersley: London Drugs and Lactation Database (February, 2021) ‘Goat’s Rue’ (www.ncbi.nim.nih.gov/books/NBK501817/ accessed 23.06.21) Evidence-Based Medicine Consult (2015) ‘The Mechanism of Goat’s Rue or French Lilac in the Treatment of Diabetes Mellitus’, embconsult.com, accessed 25.06.21) Gaia Herbs, www.gaiaherbs.com Hadden, D.R. (2005) ‘Goat’s rue – French lilac – Italian fitch – Spanish sainfoin. Gallega officinalis and Metformin: The Edinburgh connection’, J R Physicians Edinb:35: 258-260, Royal College of Physicians Edinburgh Hoffman, D. (2002) Holistic Herbal, Thorsons: London

Morag Donkin Feast of Fire

iii: Of Weeds & Weans

Medicinal milk Joseph Nolan Breastfeeding is not always possible. A woman may have scar tissue from surgery, body modifications, or other trauma to her breasts; there may be structural anomalies which make the whole process impossible; she may lack adequate support and so, without guidance on how to improve a difficult situation, is forced to stop trying. Or, for reasons of her own, she may not wish to breastfeed. That is fine. Countless healthy babies have been bottle-fed by parents who loved them, and have grown up to be healthy, happy and well-adjusted adults with well looked-after children of their own.

Still, breastfeeding does have some undeniable advantages. One of them is the ease with which it gets nourishment into babies and very young children. Little Sadie has decided that she will live solely on oatcakes?

As long as Mama eats salad, so does Sadie. The same is true of herbal remedies. Little Zainab really doesn’t like Matricaria recutita (Chamomile) tea, but would benefit from its calming properties? Don’t worry Zainab— Mama will drink it for you.

There are several conditions in tiny ones that are easy to treat with herbs. As with adults, digestive and skin problems respond wonderfully to herbal remedies. So, too, do the sudden and fleeting illnesses of childhood, which mainly require making the child comfortable, nudging appetite upwards and gently strengthening immunity. In breastfed babies and toddlers, these are easy to deal

with. All that is required, unless otherwise stated, is that the breastfeeding mother drinks a couple of cups of herbal tea a day. A teaspoon of dried herb per cup is enough. The immunological feedback loop between mothers and their nursing babies tends to sort things out very quickly, given the proper materials.

Bottle-fed bairns I was a bottle-fed bairn, and I turned out all right— at least, I think so. Bottle-fed kids are a bit tougher to treat because they are used to their formula tasting a certain way, so altering that can be an unpleasant shock— especially if they are highly sensitive. (If they are, then check out these excellent books: The Highly Sensitive Child and The Highly Sensitive Person by Elaine Aron.) Giving them a herbal tea instead of some of their additional drinking water, or using the tea to make up the formula, are the easiest ways to administer herbs to bottle-fed babies. You do have to contend with the issue of flavour, though, so an alternative is to put the herbs in the bath with the bairn— more on this in due course.

Colic, wind and digestive woes Colic and wind are very common problems with babies and infants. Almost every parent is familiar with the symptoms: evening crying, arching the back, pulling the legs up to the chest, distended bellies, and excessive audible flatulence. Dirty nappies may be infrequent— or overly frequent —occurrences. For these

iii: Of Weeds & Weans issues, look for antispasmodic herbs, which are aromatic and calming to the nervous system.

Chamomile is excellent, reducing tightness and spasms in the gut, relaxing the central nervous system and the enteric nerves, and so calming the belly. It helps with wind, colicky pains, inflammation, and emotional distress. It is also very useful for constipation because it relaxes the gut muscles, and its gentle bitterness stimulates the whole digestive system, increasing peristalsis and encouraging blockages to clear. It also tastes rather lovely.

Foeniculum vulgare (Fennel seed) helps specifically with gut spasms and wind, and its sweet, cooling, aromatic flavour appeals to little and big people alike. Hildegard von Bingen, the renowned medieval herbalist, wrote that Fennel brings joy— always helpful when a baby has colic. The seeds are also useful for stimulating milk production in nursing mothers, which can be valuable in the early days. Following close on Fennel’s heels is Anethum graveolens (Dill seed), the traditional actor in Gripe Water. This over-the-counter supplement is (or should) be nothing more than aromatic Dill water. Dill seed has similar properties to Fennel seed; it is anti-spasmodic for the gut and very effectively helps to expel trapped and painful wind. It is cooling and antiinflammatory, and also helps with milk production. Perhaps it is not as tasty as Fennel, but the efficacy more than makes up for the strong and distinctive flavour. I personally prefer it to Fennel, which I find too cloyingly sweet, but I am in the minority.

Chamomile, Fennel seed, and Dill seed can be used together, or in any combination, for these common digestive issues. They can also be used in the bath: make up a pint (for tiny babies) or a litre (for toddlers) of strong tea and add it to the bath water.

Skin eruptions: bumps, redness and patches A great many— if not most —babies have some kind of mild skin issue at some point.

Here, I’m talking about baby acne, cradle cap, and the little bumps and coloured patches that infants often have. Itching dry eczema is another matter, and often requires attention to diet and lifestyle to determine both cause and cure. However, mild skin complaints will usually

last only a few days or weeks and then go, just as they came, without much of a to-do, seemingly without having been itchy or bothering the child at all. They can, however, be a bit unsightly— and they certainly bother parents.

As usual, top of the treatment heap is Chamomile. With its mild bitterness improving liver function, and its anti-inflammatory and anti-fungal activity, you really can’t go wrong with Chamomile— especially since skin problems frequently accompany, or are accompanied by, digestive upsets. Calendula officinalis (Calendula, Marigold) is another excellent and gentle herb for the skin complaints of tiny people. The herb improves lymphatic flow, which helps to reduce inflammation. It is also anti-fungal— useful if thrush is a problem. Calendula is not as tasty as Chamomile, though, so I typically combine them, especially if the remedy is to be drunk as a tea. Another useful plant is Viola tricolor (Wild Pansy, Heartsease). Heartsease helps move lymphatic fluid, which in turn reduces inflammation and facilitates healing, as well as improving the skin’s structure. It is very gentle, and seems to work better in children than adults, who need large quantities to effect change. As with Chamomile, it also helps with the emotional upsets that can, even in newborns, contribute to skin complaints. Use these herbs in teas or in baths, or else use the cooled tea as a wash for affected areas of skin.

Viruses and febrile illnesses Even in the age of hand sanitiser and social distancing, kids get ill. Common symptoms include coughs, fevers that last a day or two, unexplained lethargy, unusual lack of appetite, and irritable crying. In the absence of other, more worrying signs, a couple of cups for tea for Mama can make a big difference, especially since breastfeeding often increases during periods of illness. Kit Acott, who ran a busy pediatric practice when she lived in Edinburgh and therefore knows a thing or two, regards Nepeta cataria (Catmint, Catnip) as ’Nature’s Calpol’. When my little one was tiny, Catnip was a common remedy in our house— he recognised it wherever he encountered it growing, and to this day calls it by the

iii: Of Weeds & Weans nickname ‘Peta’ (better). Being a Lamiate, in the Mint family, Catnip helps to cool the body and relieves the unpleasant sensations of fever.

It relieves aches and pains, relaxes the body and aids sleep, and reduces tension in the gut, expelling wind and clearing constipation. While it does not work as well overall for adults, it does maintain its soothing effect on both the digestion and the mind— helpful for frazzled parents with a sick child in the house.

Sambucus nigra (Elderflower), whose blossoming time has just about passed, is another invaluable remedy for colds, fevers, and the like. Its affinity lies with the mucous membranes in particular, strengthening them and drying up runny noses and weepy eyes.

Like Catnip, with which it combines very well, it helps treat chills and sweats at the start of an illness, and it has mild relaxing qualities that aid sleep and reduce irritability. It helps a bit with inflammation and pain, too. These very gentle actions can rarely be felt by adults, but they are useful for children.

Finally, we come to the delightful Filipendula ulmaria (Meadowsweet, Queen-of-theMeadow), which is in full flower at the moment.

It is in the Rose family, the Rosaceae, and shares the uplifting qualities of its relatives.

Meadowsweet relieves aching and discomfort, lifts the spirits and relaxes the mind, facilitating sleep. It is tasty, sweet and aromatic, which is helpful for windy and irritable digestion if that is a symptom. Gently astringent, running noses and sore throats are helped by the herb, and the lovely flavour is comforting. It is one of my favourite herbs, and I have found it as helpful for toddlers as for their grandmothers.

Although only the breastfeeding mother needs to drink the tea to pass on its effects, these herbs do have appealing flavours in their own right, so most children— even very, very small ones —will obligingly take a teaspoon or two, or a few sips from a cup. They can also be used in the bath like the other herbs.

Home herbal helper: a cold Fennel and Marshmallow infusion Breastfeeding babies and children can be hard on the breasts, especially in the early days when both parties are learning how to do it.

Milk supply can be over-enthusiastic, and long

periods spent away from the baby can result in a painful build-up of milk. Helen Stapleton recommends this excellent remedy for breast soreness in nursing mothers: Ingredients  1 tbs / 15g Fennel seeds  1 tbs / 15g Marshmallow root (Althaea officinalis)  1 pint boiling water Method 1. Steep the herbs in the water overnight in a small pan, covered.

2. In the morning, reheat and simmer for 5 minutes, still covered.

3. Allow to cool again to a comfortable temperature, then immerse the affected breast in the infusion. If that is impossible, apply as a wash.

Happy herbing!

iii: Anthroposophical Views

A bigger splash Dora Wagner Maybe today I am the breast that gives you milk.

But don't forget: it is not my breast that nurtures you.

It is the milk.

Greek proverb

Because our galaxy appears like a milky bright ribbon in the sky, we call it the Milky Way. According to Greek mythology, however, it came into being because the mother of the gods, Hera, spilled her divine milk when suckling Heracles, a demigod, born of an affair between her husband Zeus and the mortal Alcmene. To endow this son of the supreme Olympian with godlike qualities, the new-born was brought, unrecognised, to Hera, who nursed the baby out of pity. But when it sucked so violently that it caused Hera pain, she pushed the child away and her milk splashed across the sky, forming our galaxy, named after the Greek word for milk, 'γάλα' (von RankeGraves,1984). Milk also plays an essential role in other mythological and religious genesis.

Dhanvantari, for example, the physician of the gods in Hindu mythology, and the originator of Ayurveda, emerged from an ‘ocean of milk’, the primordial sea (Ions, 1988).

It seems the evolution of humanity has always been confluent with milk; rock carvings in the Sahara, for example, show that the first livestock cultivation, in prehistoric times, entailed various milking techniques. (Le Quellec, 2011). In many past societies, milk,

dairying and the nurturing breast figured prominently in creation myths and in religious and cultic practices (McCormick, 2012). Still today, dairy products are highly valued in nutrition, but also in personal care and medicine. Cleopatra, reputedly the most beautiful woman of antiquity, is said to have regularly dipped her body in donkey milk.

Modern scientific knowledge concedes that milk fat and lactic acid have a moisturising and soothing effect; the milk proteins promote elasticity, making the skin smooth, supple, and soft to the touch (Kocic et al., 2020).

In his lectures to members of the Anthroposophical Society in 1905, Rudolf Steiner referred to the mythological, symbolic and nutritional significance of milk in human evolutionary history. He described the white opaque emulsion as ‘moon food’, associated with the feminine, and relating to a time when our earth was still united with the moon.

According to his worldview, when humankind had not yet set foot on solid earth, it was fed on a milk-like nourishment, absorbed and ingested from the outside world. Steiner described this lactic substance as a lifeblood

iii: Anthroposophical Views running through the entire earth where, he considered, lunar forces were still active. When the moon split off, however, these forces were left to concentrate in specific organs of living beings. Gradually, plant food took the place of moon food; at first being only the aerial plant parts, which Steiner described as ‘sun food’ (Steiner,1905). The conflict between these two forms of nutrition and associated states of mind seems also to form the basis of the Biblical story of Cain, the farmer, and his brother Abel, a nomad and cattle shepherd (Baatz, 2017).

In the following period, Steiner continues, the consumption of plants that had not ripened in the sun — the underground parts of the plant, the roots —became essential. Pure minerals, such as salt, were now also added to food. In anthroposophical terms, this led to a significant strengthening and hardening of the human being, and to a stronger bond with the earthly world. This bondage became even stronger when hunters switched to killing animals, meat appeared, and animals were sacrificed in bloody cultic customs. In the next period, the consumption of wine emerged, as in the cult of Dionysus. Steiner saw wine as separating the human being from the spiritual world, preparing it for materialism, which he saw as a necessary stage in the development of humanity (Steiner, 1905). In Biblical terms, when changing water into wine at the wedding in Cana, as with the celebration of the Lord's Supper, Christ signalled transcendence from bloody animal sacrifices to a new future offering bread and wine instead (Zilling, 2011).

Steiner considered this prophetic— that in the future humanity would have to change from eating dead animals to eating dead plants.

Steiner predicted that in the next cultural epoch humans would eat a vegetarian diet and, even later, a purely mineral diet would follow (Steiner,1905). Humanity would then be able to produce food from dead matter, and life could be sustained from non-living substances.

Steiner spoke about nutrition in great detail, and in various contexts, in order to raise awareness of the influence of food on health and illness, but also on spiritual development.

He believed that one day people would eat much more consciously than they do today.

The highest basic principle of anthroposophical nutrition is the free decision of the human being (Steiner,1894).

Consequently, there are no forbidden or permitted foods, merely recommendations. It is felt that everyone should decide for themselves which foods are beneficial to them.

Another basic principle of anthroposophical nutrition is the threefold division of a plant into root, leaf/stem, and flower/fruit. Each part is believed to stimulate a specific area of the human body: root vegetables are seen as beneficial to head and nerves; leaves and stems to have a positive effect on heart and lungs; buds, flowers and fruits to stimulate metabolism. To achieve a harmonious balance, it is recommended to eat all three parts of plants every day, to favour food from biodynamic cultivation, to consider the rhythms of nature and the seasons, and to prefer regional products. Raw vegetables should make up a quarter to a third of daily food intake, as they offer greater resistance to the digestive system than cooked food and thus activate self-healing powers. According to anthroposophical nutritional teachings, cereals have a spiritual content, carrying the forces of life, strengthening the sensory powers, promoting concentration and stimulating digestion. Other food recommendations include oilseeds and nuts. Sugar is considered overly processed and is rejected in favour of alternative sweeteners, such as Sugar Beet and Maple syrup, whole Cane Sugar, Honey, dried fruits, herbs and spices. Mineral and spring water, as well as herbal and fruit teas, are recommended as beverages, while alcohol is to be avoided and stimulants such as coffee

iii: Anthroposophical Views and black tea drunk only in moderation. Whilst eating meat is not expressly forbidden, it is not recommended or, like fish and eggs, should be consumed in moderation— at most, once or twice a week. These animal products are seen as binding the soul-spiritual too strongly to earthly-material conditions (Kühne, 2008). The regular consumption of milk and dairy products is explicitly suggested for balancing a materialistic and a spiritualised consciousness.

Breast milk, a yellowish-white secretion of the mammary glands, is considered the optimal nutrition for infants, completely covering their needs up to about six months of age without the necessity of adding further food. If breastfeeding is not possible, anthroposophical paediatrics recommends cow's milk diluted by lactose and almond paste, to which cereal porridge is later added (Madeleyn,1986).

The milk of mammals varies from species to species, depending on the growth rate and the climatic conditions of the region in which the species evolved. Certain ingredients aside, however, the composition of milk from some ruminants— cow, sheep, goat, buffalo, camel, llama, yak and deer — and Equidae (horse and donkey) largely corresponds to human milk.

Although, of all these varieties, mare's or donkey's milk is most similar to that of humans, cow's milk has always been preferred for practical and economic reasons (Claeys, 2014).

After weaning, humans, like all other mammals, no longer really need breast milk and, since the ability to metabolise lactose is therefore no longer required, our body reduces production of the enzyme lactase. However, due to a genetic mutation, most Europeans can drink milk throughout their lives without getting a stomach-ache.

There is considerable controversy as to whether industriallyprocessed, homogenised cow's milk has a harmful effect on human health.

Homogenisation breaks up the fat droplets in the milk, allowing them to penetrate the intestinal septum and pass directly into the blood. Since there is no longer a labelling requirement, even milk with organic certification can be homogenised. Only Demeter-certified milk is guaranteed not to be.

Demeter e.V., named after the Greek mother goddess Demeter, is the oldest organization of organic farmers in Germany, inspired by Rudolf Steiner, cultivating their fields biodynamically since 1924. Due to its circular farming system, Demeter agriculture is considered to be the most sustainable form of farming, far surpassing the requirements of EU organic regulation.

For toddlers like me, who could not tolerate the specific protein in cow's milk, the nutraceutical properties of donkey's milk, which make it beneficial for sick and elderly people alike, would have been particularly suitable. But, since donkeys were rather rare in our region, and since goat's milk also has finer clotting proteins and smaller fat globules, I had a goat nana and shared her milk with her infant.

In anthroposophical medicine, ‘Quarkwickel’ (curd compresses) are used externally, for their cooling, analgesic and soothing effects on many inflammatory and painful conditions— arthrosis and rheumatic complaints, bronchitis, mastitis, sore throat, pneumonia, oedema and haematoma. When milk turns sour, it separates into solid (quark, curd) and liquid (whey). Curd compresses are cool or slightly warmed wrappings, usually consisting of three layers of fabric, that are placed around the body part.

The first layer contains the curd, the second and third layers cover it and keep the affected part of the body warm. Curd compresses have

iii: Anthroposophical Views a gentle, sucking and liberating effect; releasing watery congestion and removing metabolic toxins from the body. Inflammatory substances are expelled and excessive metabolic processes calmed down— all of which has a very pleasant, cooling and painrelieving impact. The effects of curd can be intensified by adding corresponding herbal essences. Extracts of Arnica (Arnica officinalis) or Calendula (C. officinalis), for example, can be drizzled and lightly spread onto the side of the compress in contact with the skin. It is important for the poultice not to be too wet or too cold. A compress of curd that is too cool can cause reactive overheating when applied to local inflammations. Therefore, curd should never be applied directly from the fridge, but when lukewarm. Curd can have a very different consistency in different countries, and the fat content also varies. For a long time, low-fat Quark was considered the remedy of choice for poultices in Germany, more recently curd with an unreduced fat content has been considered more suitable. As always, it is always important to be aware of individual sensitivities and to practice self-care when stimulating selfhealing.

In today's world, it is obvious that we humans are ruthlessly extracting everything from our planet and ourselves, and thus milking our own livelihoods dry (Kristof & WuDunn, 2010). We should be grateful for the great gift of life on this beautiful planet and work to ensure that its milk and honey will continue to flow. We should exercise more care, be more mindful, and remember that only that which we nurture in ourselves and in others grows and flourishes.

In this spirit, contributing to the subsistence and preservation of life seems to me to be of utmost importance, in whatever ways we each may be able to do so.

Images ‘Milking scene' petroglyph from Jebel el'Uweynat (Libyan Desert). Photo from an engraved panel in Wadi Tiksatin, courtesy of Jean-Loïc Le Quellec.

All other images adapted by Dora Wagner from private, public domain or creative commons works, including: Schindler, Osmar (1884-1927), ‘Demeter’, Historic Wall Décor References Baatz, U. (2017) Kain & Abel. Brennstoff; Ausgabe 50: Wien Claeys, W. et al (2014) ‘Consumption of raw or heated milk from different species: An evaluation of the nutritional and potential health benefits’, in Food Control (42):188–201 Ions, V. (1988) Indian Mythology. Hamlyn: Rushden Kocic, H. et al. (2020) ‘Favorable effect of creams with skimmed donkey milk on skin physiology’, in Dermatologic Therapy, 33 (4) Kristof, N. D. and WuDunn, S. (2010) Half the Sky: How to Change the World. Virago: London Kühne, P. (2008) ‘Anthroposophische Ernährung. Lebensmittel und ihre Qualität; Arbeitskreis für Ernährungsforschung’ Le Quellec J.-L. (2011) ‘Provoking lactation by the insufflation technique as documented by the rock images of the Sahara’, in Anthropozoologica 46 (1): 65–125 Madeleyn, R. (1986) Zur Ernährung nicht voll gestillter Kinder in den ersten Lebensmonaten (To nourish not fully breastfed children in the first months of life.); Beiträge zu einer Erweiterung der Heilkunst nach geisteswissenschaftlichen Erkenntnissen 39(4):125-130 McCormick, F. (2012) ‘Cows, milk and religion: the use of dairy produce in early societies’, in Anthropozoologica 47(2): 101-113 Steiner, R. (1905) Notizen von einem esoterischen Lehrgang in Form von einunddreißig Vorträgen, gehalten in Berlin vom 26. September bis 5. November 1905 Steiner, R. (1894 [2018]) Die Philosophie der Freiheit Verlag Freies Geistesleben von Ranke-Graves, R. (1984) Griechische Mythologie. Übersetzt von Hugo Steinfeld: Rowohlt Zilling, H. M. (2011) Jesus als Held. Odysseus und Herakles als Vorbilder christlicher Heldentypologie.

Paderborn: München/Wien/Züric

iii: Notes from the Brew Room

External and internal nurturing Ann King

Goat’s Rue (Galega officinalis) is native to the Middle East but, like many herbs, was introduced to this country in the 16th century as an important herbal remedy, becoming naturalised within a few decades. It now seems particularly at home around railway embankments. As a member of the Fabaceae (Pea) family it enjoys similarities to its distant cousin Lathyrus odoratus (Sweet Pea), but it doesn’t carry the same glorious fragrance notes, although it also known as French Lilac.

Bruising leaves of this delicate little plant, however, will conjure a noxious odour.

Nonetheless, we suggest using the undeniably soothing Goat’s Rue flower for its decorative appeal— preferably in amongst those highly fragrant Sweet Peas.

Goat’s Rue may look delicate and hold positive status in herbal tradition, but we also need to

heed the notes on toxicity that sit alongside. As well as encouraging milk flow and countering diabetes, Goat’s Rue was used to expel stomach worms in animals, and records suggest the importance of attention to dosage to avoid fatality rather than to achieve cure.

Bartram (2015) refers to a hot water infusion with Fenugreek seeds and flowering Goat’s Rue to stimulate milk flow, but we have developed two foolproof products, with nurturing very much in mind.

External nurturing John Parkinson called for ‘fresh herbe boyled and made into a poultis, and applied to the breasts of women that are swollen with paine and heate…’. We developed this into a poultice for discomfort in the breast, which can be adapted for use in any area of mild inflammation, using Groundsel (Senecio

iii: Notes from the Brew Room vulgaris) and Calendula flowers (C. officinalis) to sooth and reduce inflammation.

James Green (2000) suggests filling two white cotton socks with your herbal materials, in order to have one warmed and in place whilst the other is warming up. This, along with a towel placed to insulate the heat, will ensure a continuous application of soothing heat for optimal benefit.

For our poultice, simply chop up a handful of fresh Groundsel and a couple of Calendula flowerheads, or chop up dried material in a food processor. Add them into the sock and tie the top. Place one sock into hot water and squeeze gently to activate the herbs. Prepare your skin by applying a thin layer of oil, then apply the poultice carefully and cover with a towel. Keep in place until it has cooled down, at which point the second poultice should be ready.

Internal nurturing To complement the external poultice, we developed a nourishing infusion with Nettle (Urtica dioica), Fennel seeds (Foeniculum vulgare), fresh Red Clover (Trifolium pratense), finished off with Wild Raspberry syrup (Rubus idaeus) and a slice of Orange.

Ingredients: 1 tsp Fennel seeds, for digestive health and stimulating milk flow 2tsps dried Nettle leaves, for vitamin and mineral content 1 tsp Red Clover flower, fresh if possible, for the abundance of vitamins, minerals, soothing qualities and their delicate taste Wild raspberry syrup to add a nutritional punch and plenty of flavour Method: Begin by combining the Fennel, Nettle and Red Clover mix in a pestle and mortar and grinding to a fine powder. Add the powder to a teapot and pour over freshly boiled water.

Leave to cool and then either place the teapot in the fridge overnight or transfer into a 1ltr Kilner jar. This can be enjoyed throughout the next day, served with a squeeze/slice of orange and a dash of Wild Raspberry syrup.

Wild Raspberry syrup Harvest 400g of your most local Wild Raspberries, wash and pick over Place in a saucepan and add 400ml water Boil gently for 20 minutes or until the fruit has lost most of its colour Remove the fruit without pressing and add about 200g sugar to the liquid Bring to the boil, then lower the heat and simmer for a few minutes, stirring constantly Decant into a sterilized bottle and keep in the fridge.

Images Ann King References Bartrum, T. (2015) Bartram’s Encyclopedia of Herbal Medicine. London: Robinson.

Green, J. (2000) The Herbal Medicine Maker’s Handbook. 1st ed., Berkley: Crossing Press.

Disclaimer No recipes are intended to replace medical advice and the reader should seek the guidance of their doctor for all health matters.

These profiles and recipes are intended for information purposes only and have not been tested or evaluated. Ann King is not making any claims regarding their efficacy and the reader is responsible for ensuring that any replications or adaptations of the recipes that they produce are safe to use and comply with cosmetic regulations where applicable.

Morag Donkin Amazondean I

iv: Our Man in the Field

David Hughes meets Sara Sheridan The average life expectancy of a botanical expert sent out by Kew Garden to whatever far- flung corner of the globe during the 1840s, was just sixteen weeks. Sixteen weeks after leaving these shores most of them ended up dead!

Earlier in the summer, on a particularly charged and muggy day, I seized upon an opportunity to take a tour around one of the finest examples of a Victorian pocket park in Edinburgh— the Belgrave Crescent section of the Dean Gardens. My guide was writer and novelist Sara Sheridan, author of the Mirabelle Bevan Mysteries, whose brain I was keen to pick regarding her research for the characters in her forthcoming novel The Fair Botanists, set in and around Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh in the early 1800s.

‘It was an intrepid time for botany all round,’ Sara tells me ‘and some of the characters were simply massive,’ and she briefly recounts the adventures of Scottish botanist Robert Fortune, the focus of her 2009 book, The Secret Mandarine: He was born in Berwickshire, the son of a gardener who, by the 1830s, was working at the Royal Botanic Garden in Edinburgh. The man’s a marvel working with tropical plants in the hothouses and eventually finds himself being headhunted by the East India Company. The mission was to go to China and find tea plants. Bear in mind this is 1842, just after the Opium Wars, when the tea supply of the entire empire was nearly cut off! The plan was to set up tea plantations in India— there were already a couple, but they were failing badly and no one could figure out why. So, into China Robert Fortune goes, via Hong Kong. No prior cultural knowledge, no language skills but, fear not, he’s disguised in a wig and culturally appropriate clothing! Needless to say, he vanishes shortly after, odds stacked against him, and after the given sixteen weeks is rightly presumed dead. Eulogies are made, drinks are toasted and loved ones mourn the untimely deceased. But three years later, Robert Fortune turns up in Northern India having travelled 3000 miles over land with 15,000 tea plants and 30 or 40 Chinese tea gardeners that he’s bribed to help him complete the endeavour!

iv: Our Man in the Field Intrepid indeed! We walk a path sandwiched between a large lawn and a barrier hedge that hugs the drop-off down to the Water of Leith. Dotted around us is a rich variety of stunning, mature trees and a number of substantial Rhododendrons and Camellia in mid-flower.

Originally there was supposed to be another side to this Crescent, but the residents clubbed together and bought the land off the builder in the 1860s. Somebody must have been working at the Botanics and snaffling seeds or cuttings, because you find many of the same plants down there. It’s all very much connected, in more ways than one; when you first look, you just see this flat lawn, but it actually connects all the way down to the Royal Botanic Garden further downstream, although the slope here is somewhat steeper.

We wander past more mature trees en-route to a set of pleasingly overgrown stairs that lead down to a small stone terrace overhanging the Water of Leith: There are photos of those trees when they were just saplings. People in the area were quite wealthy and were some of the first in the country to have access to cameras, so there is a visual record of this particular garden from practically the beginning.

The terrace overlooks the oft-photographed Dean Village rooftops, and the planting that surrounds us is deliberate and long-established; more Camellias and Rhododendrons in flower, but now accompanied by the heady fragrances of Rosemary and Mint from an herbaceous rockery that cuts into the hillside. A path leads on through a small flush of woodland clinging to a slope that I’m hardpressed to believe exists, since I must have walked past it countless times. The sharp hillsides amplify the bird song and the cascading Water of Leith. It’s a nice walk, but the old adage that ‘an interest in herbology changes a walk forever’ is ringing true for Sara: You stop, observe, and feel the interactions in the world surrounding you. Writing characters who have an interest in plants influences you to think in the same way. The opportunity to combine that with exploring historical archives and learning about the lives of the people surrounding the Botanic Garden during the Victorian period is a treat.

There’s bountiful information to be discovered about the lives of the main characters floating around at the time— Regus Keeper Robert Graham, for example. I found a letter written by the famous American naturalist and ornithological illustrator John James Audubon, who visited Edinburgh in the 1820s. He went for dinner at Robert Graham’s house, later writing to a friend describing how unbelievably extravagant it was— unsurprising for a man earning £1000 a year!

However, there’s much less information available about the other people, those engaged in the hands-on gardening work. But even from a botanical archive you can glean insight into how the people surrounding it might have lived and worked, and from there you can begin to build a picture of who they might have been.

HR records weren’t taken at the time, so I was literally looking to see what people were getting paid to try and ascertain who they were or what their job might have been.

Early on, before there was even a garden built, it seems like the groundwork was carried out by a group of women who came in to clear stones and pick over the soil on the site— but I'm still to discover the names of any of these women or where they came from…

Our conversation is interrupted by a pair of Norfolk Terriers making their way down the path and I'm introduced to Scapa, the more rambunctious of the two, and Tattie, who remained largely indifferent to my friendly advances. With shoes duly sniffed, and the appropriate ears rubbed, Sara continued: I was particularly interested in the women, as so many of their contributions are neglected.

There are a lot of samples in the Herbarium from Henrietta Liston, whose papers are up at the National Library of Scotland. She was the wife of a British diplomat who went to America and Constantinople (as was at the time). When they returned, they set up an amazing garden at Ratho. She was an avid gardener and a big friend of William Macnab, who was Head Gardener

iv: Our Man in the Field at the Botanics during the period. She was a very prominent woman in her day, and, like many others, her memory is not as well-preserved as it should be.

Further down the social spectrum, there were two big seedswomen in Edinburgh. Both had inherited the businesses after their husbands had died, and both did bang-on jobs of steering these businesses— to the extent that they ended up as big rivals. I felt it was quite important to have the seedswomen in the book. They are very interesting characters. The older seedswoman, in particular, actually comes across as rather wicked and out to grow her business at any cost; she’s buying seeds on the side from William McNab, who’s being grossly underpaid— as most gardeners were at the time.

And again, you unearth so many curious questions waiting to be answered: If William McNab is only earning £80 a year, and he’s six kids and a wife to support— a man on the cusp, educated, Head Gardener at the Botanics— but not a gentleman, what does he have to keep going on the side to get his kids, particularly his sons, educated properly?

Many of the gardeners of this era worked multiple jobs because of the awful pay. You’d work as long as the light held. In summer, that was a long working day, but during the winter you could get another job that started at three or four in the afternoon, when it got dark, and work over the evening. I learned there was a gardener moonlighting as a customs officer, who was actually killed in a fight that broke out during a customs raid in the 1820s. But William McNab, in particular, I noticed, seemed to get a lot of presents— a side of ham here, a hamper there, various bits and pieces sent to him as thank-yous.

‘Gifts?’ I ask, while tapping my index finger to my nose.

Quite. ‘Gifts’. Might have been for access to seeds, maybe a few rare cuttings, an established plant or two, maybe even a bit of clandestine garden design for a garden just like this one.

Who truly knows? But you can certainly ascertain a reasonable picture with a bit of educated guesswork and deduction…

The Fair Botanists: Could one rare plant hold the key to a thousand riches? by Sara Sheridan is available for pre-order now, and you can follow the publication on Instagram @thefairbotanists. Sara is on Twitter @sarasheridan and on Facebook @SheridanWritesHerstory.

Morag Donkin Amazondean II

v. The Climate Column

The COP26 Coalition: an interview with Quan Nguyen Patrick Dunne This month I spoke to Quan Nguyen from the COP26 Coalition to find out more about the international summit on climate change that will be taking place in Glasgow in November 2021— COP26. Alarmingly, the conference is already being derailed by political and economic special interests, including the fossil fuel industry. We discussed what the Coalition is doing to create a movement for Glasgow and beyond. To start, I asked him to tell us a bit about himself and the COP26 Coalition.

Quan: My name is Quan and I work for the COP26 Coalition as the Scottish Co-ordinator.

The COP26 Coalition is a broad civil alliance that brings together groups from across society to organise for climate justice at COP26. We are trying very hard to get more than just the usual suspects involved. As well as climate activists, we are working with migrant justice organisers, youth strikers, and direct action groups, and also Trades Unions and faith groups, to form a broad alliance that represents all parts of the UK and can push strongly for transformative change around COP26 and beyond. In Glasgow, we are building towards mobilising as many people as possible for a Global Day of Action on the 6th November, 2021, to give a Glaswegian grounding to our activism when COP26 comes to the city. We are organising a People's Summit that will give a platform those who are most marginalised and most affected by the climate crisis and whose voices won’t be heard in the official COP26 channels.

Me: So, tell us about COP. As I understand it, this is a regular conference bringing governments, NGOs and big groups together to plan for climate change. Is that broadly correct?

Quan: So, let’s start with the technicalities and then move towards the more political side.

COP stands for Conference of the Parties, which are the countries that have signed up to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCC). This was a very big

treaty signed in 1992, in Rio. Since then, all of the parties that signed the agreement have met up annually— Glasgow will be the 26th time —to find a common framework to address climate change, reduce emissions, and make plans for how to adapt to the changes the world will inevitably face. There have been several milestones since 1992: readers will remember the Kyoto Protocol and the Paris Agreement, both of which were hammered out at COPs. The Paris Agreement is particularly important because it represents a major shift in the model of reacting to climate change. Kyoto was legally binding; Paris isn't. Under the Paris Agreement, each country has to set out its Nationally Determined Contributions (NDCs), basically saying: ‘This is what we feel like we can and will do this year to reduce emissions.’

Paris also outlined the emission reductions and some of the policies that will be needed to keep global warming capped at two degrees of warming (above pre-industrial levels), or below, if possible. But because none of this is legally binding, none of the countries that have signed up are on track to meet their targeted reduction in emissions that will keep warming below two degrees.

Me: None of them?

Quan: Virtually none. Maybe one or two African countries are on track, but certainly none of the big economies are. We are at about 1 degree of warming right now and we are currently on track for 2.6 to 3 degrees. This is because none of the countries were able to get binding mechanisms in place to enforce the targets.

Because of this, COP26 in Glasgow is seen as one of the big milestone COPs— it will be a one of the first opportunities since Paris to reconfirm these targets. The hope is that the Paris Agreement will be replaced by a Glasgow Agreement that will set out a new pathway for keeping warming below two degrees.

Me: So, what will be happening at the conference in Glasgow?

v. The Climate Column Quan: Lots of the debates will be about carbon markets, NetZero, how to get carbon pricing right, new technologies, and Carbon Capture and Storage (CCS). But these solutions are what we call false solutions, in that they do not address the underlying causes of the climate crisis. The climate crisis is both a symptom and a cause of the dysfunctional economic system in place across the world— if we don't address that, then we won't address the climate crisis sufficiently. We need to be on pathways that will limit warming to well below the level that will be murderous to those most affected— and those most affected are also those least responsible for the economic system and the climate crisis itself.

So, at COP26, Global South countries will be pushing against Global North countries, rejecting these false solutions and pushing for more adaptation and mitigation measures, policies for loss and damage, and so on. Those countries will be arguing for more help with finding ways to mitigate the impacts of climate change; meanwhile, the Global North countries (who are the most responsible and currently least affected by climate change) are going to push for their own solutions, which preserve polluters’ powers, government powers and fossil fuel influence.

The entire issue is made worse by the fact that many of the major sponsors of the COP are big polluters themselves. The energy company SSE is the second worst polluter in Scotland, and is a sponsor at COP26. Corporations like BP, and other fossil fuel companies, will have access to the conference, while the climate movement, represented by NGOs, youth strikers, indigenous groups and communities, will have more difficulty getting into COP spaces as observers and far fewer opportunities to talk to and influence (or even shame) the COP delegates.

Me: How has Covid impacted on those climate groups?

Quan: Because of the pandemic, lots of people can't travel to Glasgow. Remember, about half a million people were on the streets at the most recent COP in Madrid; we won't see those numbers in Glasgow, unfortunately. Also, those

in the Global South have less access to vaccines. It’s almost impossible now to get any access to COP26 for the communities and groups who are most affected. For this reason, diplomatically speaking, COP26 is a sh!#show.

There are more and more questions being raised about what can actually be achieved this November, without the most important voices being in the room— and with the huge power imbalances which have been made so much worse by the pandemic. This is something that people in Glasgow and across the UK need to know about if they want to show international solidarity. Those we need to be in solidarity with might not be able to make it to COP26 and will have a much harder time getting to speak to those in power.

Me: So how can our readers and people in the UK show support and put pressure in the right places between now and November— and beyond?

Quan: One of the tasks of the COP26 Coalition is to try to counterbalance these issues. As I mentioned, we are calling for a Global Day of Action on 6th November 2021— we want as many people as possible to take to the streets.

Whether you can get to Glasgow or not, please organise and take part in actions and rallies in your hometowns and home countries (see the links below.) The day before that, 5th November 2021, is a Global Youth Strike organised by Fridays for Future. We will be seeing actions taking place across the world, from Indonesia, China, the US, and Brazil to the UK. We are also predicting that travel within the UK might be limited, or that people will be hesitant to travel, so for that reason we have established a local Hub system across the UK so that people can mobilise in their hometowns and in cities. So, there are ways to mobilise before and during COP26— and, even more importantly, to stay engaged and organised after COP26 so that we can use this as a turning point from which to build the system change that we need.

We are also organising a People's Summit for 7-10th November, 2021. These dates are the Sunday to the Wednesday of the second negotiation week during COP26. During this

v. The Climate Column time, we will platform those who haven’t been able to speak in the conference itself, inviting them to share their experiences of the climate crisis and what is really going on. This summit will take a hybrid format— there will be inperson events across a variety of venues in Glasgow, as well as online content. There are also ways to get involved as hosts for activists looking for somewhere to stay in or near Glasgow, or opportunities to participate at art hubs and in a range of kitchens and campsites that will be being used in Glasgow, Edinburgh and nearby during the weeks of COP26. We shouldn't kid ourselves, after Covid, times have changed. The mass activism we saw two years ago isn't possible now and we need to adapt to that, while keeping the pressure on politicians and corporations.

Me: Thank you, Quan, for your time and all that you are doing in the run-up to COP26, and your efforts to make sure that this moment galvanises all of us to do the work we need— not just in November in Glasgow, but afterwards. We need to make radical changes to our economy and politics and society, in order to develop a just global response to the climate crisis and the causes of the climate crisis.

I invite our readers to get involved in their Hubs, follow the COP26 Coalition on social media, and get registered for hosting. You can find out more and get involved here: cop26coalition.org/Glasgow/how-can-i-getinvolved Here’s the link to find your local hub: cop26coalition.org/resource/local-hubassemblies And you can offer to host an activist here: humanhotel.com/cop26

Follow the action and show your support through these Twitter channels: @COP26_Coalition @Ggow_COP26 @Fridays4future

Morag Donkin Prosperity I

vi: Natural Nurture

Learning from Arnica Sarah Frances I grew up foraging hedgerows, growing vegetables and herbs, and then worked with trees and timber for most of my adult life, so, for me, there is no better way to learn and remember than through practical immersion.

Techniques become embedded by the actions of doing, participating, copying; learning by demonstration, trial and error, patience, repetition and care.

Herbology embodies these principles, and so it seemed natural to gravitate towards this hands-on, intensive, biodynamic practice of herb growing— particularly as part of organic and closed system cultivation.

One of the core aspects of my learning during the Herbology Diploma at RBGE was the creation of a physic garden on site, growing specific herbs to be used for preparations in the Green Pharmacy module of the course.

Each student grows their herbs from seed, designing and preparing their own garden plots from the onset, cultivating them through the seasons, culminating in a harvest, ready (hopefully) for each student’s specific herbal remedy making. This holistic ‘seed to syrup’ ethos has since informed everything I do, transforming the way I care for my family— especially my disabled daughter.

After graduating from RBGE, I spent time with Duncan and Yuriko Ross at Poyntzfield biodynamic herb nursery, on the Black Isle in Scotland. The intensive, biodynamic approach could not be any better show-cased than at Poyntzfield; Duncan has spent a lifetime honing this unique nursery, which is now regarded by many as the epitome of best practice in

medicinal herb cultivation. This opportunity allowed me to gain more experience of, and interaction with, herbs. It was deeply immersive. Immediately obvious to anyone who sets foot in the walled grounds is the minute and dedicated attention to detail. For me, it felt key to spend a concentrated time understanding how to care for plants at every stage of their life cycle. The constant tweaking and watch-keeping intrigued me and stimulated my interest in the nurture and care of life (especially young life with masses of potential).

It occurred to me that the nursery’s attentive, holistic approach was not that dissimilar to being aboard a small sailing boat, especially during a long passage; the constant attention to detail, the awareness of weather, climate, and environmental conditions, the sense of a journey. The ordered rota of tasks for maintaining growth and optimising performance felt a bit like keeping the sails filled. The conditions at Poyntzfield are very strictly monitored, so that the herbs achieve their optimum, ready for medicinal use. The herbs are constantly attended, to avoid disease or contamination. Every aspect of the work is carried out by hand. This is a very labourintensive and organised environment. Once ‘aboard’ at Poyntzfield, it becomes your whole world, immensely physical and increasingly emotional once the herbs begin to reveal themselves to you.

I worked at the nursery during their annual Arnica (Arnica montana) harvest in mid-

vi: Natural Nurture summer. Like Witch Hazel (Hamamelis virginiana) and Tea Tree (Melaleuca alternifolia), Arnica is a household name— but very few of us in the UK know what it looks like, where it comes from, or how it is grown. Arnica montana is a midsummer herb, full of light, warmth and intensity. Native to mountainous regions of Europe and Siberia, these plants thrive at Poyntzfield due to the cold winter periods followed by warm, light summers.

Once in bloom, they offer intensive rows of bright, vivid yellow, humming with insects and exuding a poignant fragrance. Harvesting them, I have never felt so energised and fatigued all at the same time. Again, the otherworldliness the experience was like completing a sailing voyage, with its feelings of disorientation, physical tiredness, elation, and a deep sense of success. The really special part was being able to be so devoted to a single species. I had Arnica is on my skin, in my nose, on my breath, filling my vision. Every sense is overwhelmed by this one plant in its multitude, to the extent that, in the evening, when work is done and you are away from the field, seeing something yellow in your peripheral vision leads you to turn to it, even putting out your hand for a nanosecond before you come to your senses. The colour is intoxicating, but the shape and form are enchanting— perfectly imperfect —each flower an individual, a near but not quite exact copy of the previous flower.

The harvesting process is fascinating; each flower is individually hand-picked at its optimum potency, when the central florets are open wide, and the Arnica’s volatile oils are strongest. We harvested with precision, daily, so that every flower was picked at its peak.

Even though Duncan cultivates his Arnica plants to be taller-stalked than the wild Arnica, the easiest way to harvest is often down on hands and knees, crawling through the acres of nodding, yellow flowers. The flowers symbolise the Sun, our light-giving star, and it seemed we were gathering buckets full of sunshine all day long. The bees gently murmured as our harvest ran alongside theirs, and time stood still. After collecting the flowerheads each day, we carefully laid them out on trays in the drying room, which was constantly monitored for temperature and humidity. Once dried, the Arnica is supplied directly to Weleda UK, for use in many of their natural products. I loved being so immersed in the intensity of hand harvesting; such a tiny little plant managed to become overwhelming to the point that, down on my knees for long hot days, I actually felt like one of the bees— every sense intoxicated by the Arnica. You don’t forget that feeling, and it now informs my practical applications, how I look at every herbal remedy as more than just a liquid in a jar, but as part of the wider cycle.

Duncan and Yuriko were conscientious in ensuring we had plasters on any (even tiny) cuts or grazes on our skin, to protect ourselves from the volatile oils— which can be an extreme irritant to broken skin. We were also reminded to avoid touching our faces, especially our eyes. But just as they can aggravate, these volatile oils also create euphoria and, after intense periods of time in its presence, the herbal potency of the Arnica was unquestionable. My eyes smarted from the volatile oils in the air and, after constantly handling these silky soft flowers and their soft, mucilaginous roots (similar to Marshmallow’s in

vi: Natural Nurture texture), my hands felt disconnected from my arms, the skin as elastic as a new-born’s, with a deep softness that seemed to penetrate and rejuvenate my veins and bones. Even after weeks of working in cold, wet water, my hands were in beautiful condition.

Undoubtedly a healing plant of ancient merit, today Arnica is a flagship product for Weleda, used especially in treatments for sports injury, sprains and muscle fatigue. As we know, Arnica is also a go-to remedy for bruising and can be taken internally for bruising in homeopathic dose, so it has very practical modern-day applications. But this practicality doesn’t quite capture the essence of the plant I have come to know— what of its elusive power over our psyche? Or its deeply cosmic ability to transform one’s mental and physical state? I found one clue in Hildegard, who cites its use as an aphrodisiac. Yuriko described another; it’s relationship to travel, to reconnecting body and mind, to entering a new sphere of time and place, to the centring of the out-of-body experience. No wonder the deep, multi layered, complex healing power of Arnica is so revered. This is when I begin to understand the folk history of plants, and the way that they are threaded so intricately through our cultural heritage.

The confidence and practical skills I gained from my experience at Poyntzfield helped me fulfil my desire to develop my own herb physic garden, cultivating my own herbs, which I gather, dry, preserve and use daily in various forms— from natural soaps, to cooking, cleaning, infusing, as well as various culinary and medicinal home preparations. Most of these herbs have been grown from biodynamic seed and they’re like family to me. I began by cultivating a circular bed and then, year by year, have added, removed, divided, and, ultimately, cultivated plants across the whole area. It is still, as all gardens are, a work in progress. Many of the seeds are saved for use in remedies or for next years’ sowing. We take a mix of semi-ripe and hardwood cuttings from Rosemary (Rosmarinus officinalis), Lavender (Lavendula angustifolia), Myrtle (Myrtus communis), Sage (Salvia officinalis) and many

more. We also make root cuttings and divisions from Elecampane (Inula helenium), Fennel (Foeniculum vulgare), and Marshmallow (Althaea officinalis), for example. When the herbs spread, we divide St. John’s Wort (Hypericum perforatum), Valerian (Valeriana officinalis), Thyme (Thymus vulgaris), Savory (Satureja hortensis), Ox-eye Daisy (Leucanthemum vulgare), Lawn Camomile (Chamaemelum nobile), Peppermint (Mentha × piperita), Creeping Jenny (Lysimachia nummularia) and Self-heal (Prunella vulgaris).

Sowing from seed has meant we can identify the seedlings that appear each year and ‘edit’ the garden as it grows; moving the Yarrow (Achillea millefolium), Foxglove (Digitalis purpurea), Calendula (C. officinalis), Californian Poppy (Eschscholzia californica), Opium Poppy (Papaver somniferum), Black Horehound (Ballota nigra), Avens (Geum urbanum), Pansy (Viola spp.), Plantain (Plantago spp.) and Motherwort (Leonurus cardiaca); allowing space and light between plants; achieving a balance of flowers through the summer. It’s fun to re- orchestrate the garden each year, gently composing new themes as the herbs settle into maturity.

Morag Donkin Prosperity II

vii: Garden Gems

Tranquillity Ruth Crighton-Ward As this is my final column, I am taking a slightly different angle; in addition to the usual seasonal tips, I want to explore the concept of gardening and what it means.

There are still long hot days and balmy nights, but there are signs that Summer may be ebbing away, as we see berries forming on tree branches, heralding autumn. There are still many things which can be done in the garden at this time of year; collecting seeds, deadheading, trimming Lavender (Lavendula sp.), planting autumn bulbs. In previous columns I have stressed the importance of watering. That advice still stands true— and watering should be maintained where necessary.

You can now use those runners emerging from your Strawberry (Fragaria x ananassa) to create more plants. Choose a Strawberry runner which has produced leaves, but don’t remove it from the plant. Instead, fill a small pot with compost and place the runner on top of it. Put the leafy part in the centre of the pot as this is where the roots will grow from. To keep the runner stable, weight it down with a stone. Now just leave it for approximately three weeks. After that time, remove the stone and give a gentle tug on the runner. If roots have formed, you will feel some resistance, and you can then cut the runner from the parent plant. You now have a new Strawberry plant which will start producing fruit next year. Remember, a Strawberry plant tends to produce its best fruit in its second year of fruiting, and after three years the plant will be past its best and should be replaced.

Audrey Hepburn once said, “To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.” Gardening is not a quick pastime, nothing happens instantly, and so it teaches us patience. Gardens give us faith in the future. They allow us to look beyond the present. Gardening has different meanings for everyone but for me, gardening is about working alongside nature, not against it. We learn to read signs in nature as we observe the relationships between insects, plants and the seasons. And there’s a style of gardening to suit everyone. Window boxes and container gardening suit people with minimum space.

People with disabilities often use raised beds to allow gardening at a comfortable height.

vii: Garden Gems Gardening should be available to everyone regardless of income and budget. Tools are available for everyone— from left-handed tools to lightweight ergonomic ones, and those specifically designed for children— but they can also be fashioned from household items. A paint scraper is great for removing weeds from between slabs, a fork can be used to prick out young plants. Use the tools you are comfortable with, and always remember there’s not a single, correct way of doing something. For people who do not have their own garden there are many local community gardens. Most have their own Facebook groups so that’s a great platform to help you find the one nearest to you. Many schools and care homes would be delighted to have people offer to tend their gardens.

Gardening is a sensory experience. Many care institutions develop their own ‘sensory gardens’, which ‘include features, surfaces, objects and plants that stimulate our senses through touch, sight, scent, taste and hearing’ (RHS). There has been much research into the therapeutic effects of gardening. Mental health charities use horticulture to decrease stress and anxiety and promote well-being. It is used as a beneficial teaching aid in schools, care homes

and prisons. It can enable people to socialise, or gift solitude and a means of escape. Over the last twenty years there has been a huge resurgence in allotments, as more people want to grow their own food. Many allotment owners also grow flowers to attract pollinators, and enjoy the valuable social interaction an allotment provides.

I believe that children should learn about gardening and nature from a young age, and many schools are now adopting the practice of having gardening clubs for pupils. It is important for children to know where their food comes from and be able to relate what’s on their plate to what is growing in a field. They are also more likely to eat their fruit and vegetables if they’ve had a hand in growing them.

Enjoy your gardening in whatever form it takes.

Plant the flowers that make you happy. Enjoy just being in the garden and amongst nature.

And remember to give yourself time to stop and smell the roses.

Finally, I would like to thank you all for taking the time to read this column. I hope you have enjoyed this horticultural journey as much as I have.

Morag Donkin Prosperity III

viii: Foraging through Folklore

Witches and milk, goats and herbs Ella Leith Why is Galega officinalis known as Goat’s Rue? It is not related to Common Rue (Ruta graveolens), the Herb of Grace traditionally used to sprinkle holy water and to protect against the Evil Eye and various poisons. No, this Goat’s Rue is mildly toxic to mammals, although it has been cultivated as a fodder for livestock and used to stimulate milk production— ‘not only [to] increase the amount of milk, but also improve its quality’ (Mabey, 1988:221). Yet Goat’s Rue doesn’t seem to have been particularly associated with either goats’ milk or goats’ health; that honour goes to Dittany (Origanum dictamnus). Galega officinalis, meanwhile, has little to do with goats beyond its byname— a possible explanation for which is the ‘disagreeable odour’ it emits when bruised (Grieve, 1971:696).

Goat’s Rue does, however, have a folkloric role in relation to milk products more generally.

Before the industrialisation of dairy production, collecting milk and making butter and cheese were daily tasks in rural households that possessed a milking goat, sheep or, ideally, cow. Across Europe, this was seen as women’s work; ‘men were believed to lack the necessary patience and care’ for milking and churning, and ‘rural women were skilled with all aspects of dairy work ... [which] was hard, physical work’ (Spencer, 2019). Without refrigeration, milk had to be promptly converted into butter and

cheese— a simple ‘cottage cheese’ for most families, as ‘making hard or farmhouse cheese was a long, skilled process limited to the bigger houses and farms’ (ibid.). Cheese-making requires rennet, the enzymes found in the lining of a calf’s stomach, but those with only a few livestock would need to improvise. Enter Goat’s Rue. One of its bynames, shared with Lady’s Bedstraw (Galium verum), is CheeseRennet, and it has been used as a rennet substitute since at least the seventeenth century, as recorded by the botanist Nicholas Culpeper (Grieve, 1971:697).

There are a few other links between herbs, goats, the folklore of dairy production, and the supernatural. Since dairy was central to most families’ diet and livelihood, ‘if a cow lost her milk, it could prove disastrous for a hard-up family’ (Spencer, 2019). So, protecting livestock from threats and theft was paramount.

Hedgehogs were believed to be dastardly milk-stealing creatures who drank milk directly from cows’ udders (whether this is true or not is still hotly contested— see Baldwin, 2021), and ‘a now uncommon bird called the nightjar was colloquially called ‘the goatsucker’, for its unsubstantiated habit of suckling milk from goats’ (Spencer, 2019). But much worse were milk-stealing witches. These nefarious women would either transform themselves into or send out creatures to thieve milk. The creature of choice was usually a hare (called a mjölkhare or

viii: Foraging through Folklore milk-hare in Scandinavian tradition, and a harehag in Ireland). Take this 1937 tale from Mrs. Paddy Brady of County Cavan, Ireland: I know of a woman who turned herself into a hare. Her name was Mrs. Hutchinson, a Protestant woman who lived in the townland of Ryeforth ... She went to my grandfather's ... and sucked the milk from the cows.

Grandfather saw her; he got his gun, loaded it with a crucked sixpence, fired at the hare and hit her on the head. She ran away, and he ran after her to her house, where he found the woman in bed with her head bleeding. He made her promise never to do that again and she did not. (Mrs. Paddy Brady, in Ní Dhuibhne, 1993:77).

But witches didn’t need to go out and steal the milk in person. They could also use a charm to steal someone else’s ‘milk profit’ remotely, such that when a woman went to milk her cow, the udder would release only water, blood or nothing at all; meanwhile, the witch would be sitting at home, her own pail filling with the fresh milk. There were a number of ways to steal the milk profit, including herbal charms. In

a catalogue of the botanicals named in 260 Polish and Lithuanian witch-trials (1509-1775), Plantain (Plantago major) and Bryony (Bryonia alba) are identified as having been used to magically steal or spoil dairy products— bathed in a bowl of milk, the latter would draw more milk from neighbouring cattle and, indeed, from vermin (Ostling 2014:194). There was, Ostling says, power in herbs, words, and stones that witches could exploit; the latter two combine in the use of Witches’ Stones, also called ‘butter and milk stones’. James Laurenson (1899-1983) of Fetlar, Shetland, recalled in an interview in 1975 that a local woman received butter and milk stones as a wedding gift: “Naw watch them an guard them well,” th’auld witch said. “But they’re priceless. And while ye have them an keep them ye’ll never want.” ... She hed to hot them in the fire, gat them wi the tongs, ... an she took them three times waddergates [anti-clockwise] and three times sungates [clockwise], see? ... An then she’d to point to the house."Tak aa fae until aa is teen, what might blaa dee fae da been.” [Take all from until all is taken, white milk blow

viii: Foraging through Folklore you from the bone]. ... She tried it out an it worked, for curiosity she tried it.

Witches could also fashion a Witches’ Ladder to be used as a remote udder, sometimes made from ‘hairs taken from the tails of the cows whose milk was to be stolen’: a knot was tied in the rope for each cow, and by pulling at the knots as if she were milking, and at the same time uttering a spell, the witch brought the milk into her pail. (Chambers, 1870:329) More commonly, Witches’ Ladders were made of rope; in Bohemia, this would be cut from the bell-rope so that ‘you can milk all the cows within sound of the bell’ (Frazer 1887:82). Over in Scotland, Bryce Whyte (1914-2006) told the following story in 1975 about a young Aberdeenshire woman (‘she didnae call hersel a witch, but she could do witchcraft’) from whom he used to buy milk as a child. A friend of hers argued with a local farmer about whether or not witchcraft was real: He says, “I’ll bet ye five pound”— an that was a lot a lot o money at that time —he says, “there is such a thing ... as witchcraft.” ... An they come to this woman where we used tae get the milk. She went an tied up a string tae the roof, ye know? An she says tae this other farmer, “Now I dinnae want tae do this, but ... I’ll show ye. Because if I don’t do it ... ma freend’s gonnae lose five pound. An he can’t afford tae lose five pound.”... She says, “Jest you get a pail, put the pail under the string, ye know the way tae milk a coo?”

“Oh aye,” he says, “I know the way tae milk a coo.”

An she says, “Well, there’s the stool.

Set down. Milk that string,” she says, “same as if ye were milkin a coo.” He did that, the milk come. He says, “Ah no,” he says, “It’s a trick.” ... She says, “I’m no touching the string, ... it’s you that’s doin it.” ... He filled the pail wi milk and then ... there was some bleed started tae come. ... An she says, “You’re doin a foolish thing. ... Ye

should give it up now,” she says, ... “that’s yer prize coo ye’re milkin.”

True enough, when the farmer arrived home, his prize cow was at death’s door.

There were, predictably, charms to protect yourself against milk theft or to restore stolen milk profit— also involving herbs. Field Mustard (Sinapis alba), for example, is referenced in a witch-trial in Poznań, 1544: To prevent milk-theft, mark cattle with a cross of mixed egg, honey, and mustard; protection lasts as long as the mustard is bitter and the honey is sweet. (Ostling 2014:190) As well as herbs, goats themselves were used to defend milking cows. A longstanding belief in rural England was that a goat in your cattle herd would keep the cows calm and healthy.

Pseudo-scientific explanations have been given: the bad smell of the goats ‘keeps off diseases and promotes good condition’ (Fowler, 1915:213), or ‘if any illness were about to attack the cattle, it would fall first on the billy-goat, and the cattle would escape’ (Gardner, 1933: 218). However, as Gardner observes, ‘this is quite contrary to modern ideas of infection ... [and] seems to fall more into line with the ... idea of the scapegoat’ (Gardner, 1933:218). Goats were thought to ward off the Evil Eye (Foster, 1917:451) and, in Montenegro, were particularly associated with protection from witches. For example, after ritually burning household rubbish accumulated in Winter, drawing a cross in the ashes with a goat's horn ensured no witches could sneak inside in Spring (Durham, 1933:163). But beware: the goat is also one of the animals in whose form the Devil may appear (Murray, 1917), and you do need take care that the goat you keep with your milking cows isn’t itself a witch in disguise. At a trial in Jämtland, Sweden, in 1651, two children recounted seeing a creature called a bära or milk-carrier running towards their cattle: The boy threw his knife over it and it fell over and started kicking its feet.

While they were looking at it a goat came along and wanted to chase them off. They fought against it and it was

viii: Foraging through Folklore transformed into the accused woman.

(Wall, 1993:74) At the end of that tale, the witch promised the children riches, so they gave the bära back to her, and off she went. She could still be out there, so keep an eye on your cows...

Image: Francesco Londonio. Young Woman Milking a Goat. Accessed July 13, 2021.

Open access: available as part of an Open Artstor collection. https://jstor.org/stable/10.2307/community.27 022437 References Baldwin, M. (2021) ‘European Hedgehog Diet and Feeding Behaviour— Folklore’, article on Wildlife Online, wildlifeonline.me.uk, accessed 12/07/2021.

Chambers, R. (1870) Popular Rhymes of Scotland. W & R Chambers: London and Edinburgh Durham, M. (1933) ‘Whence Comes the Dread of Ghosts and Evil Spirits?’ in Folklore, 44(2):151-175 Foster, J. J. (1917) ‘Goat and Cows’ in Folklore, 28(4):451-451 Fowler, J. T. (1915) ‘Goats and Cattle’ in Folklore, 26(2):213-213 Frazer, J. G. (1887) ‘A Witches Ladder’ in The Folk-Lore Journal, 5(1):81-84 Gardner, P. (1933) ‘Billy-Goats’ in Folklore, 44(2):218-218 Grieve, M. (1971) A Modern Herbal (Vol 2).

Courier Corporation: Chelmsford, Mass.

Mabey, R. (1988) The Complete New Herbal.

Elm Tree Books: London Murray, M. (1917) ‘Organisations of Witches in Great Britain’ in Folklore (28:3),228-258 Ní Dhuibhne, É. (1993) ‘The Old Woman as Hare: Structure and Meaning in an Irish Legend’, in Folklore, 104:1-2, 77-85 Ostling, M. (2014) ‘Witches' Herbs on Trial’, in Folklore, 125(2):179-201 Rose, H. (1933) ‘The Folklore of the Geoponica’ in Folklore, 44(1): 57-90 Spencer, H. (2019) ‘From Cow to Kitchen: the Lore of Milking and Dairy Work’, article on Folklore Thursday blog, folklorethursday.com (03/01/2019; accessed 10/07/21)

Wall, J. (1993) ‘The Witch as Hare or the Witch's Hare: Popular Legends and Beliefs in Nordic Tradition’ in Folklore, 104(1-2):67-76 The interviews mentioned can be found on the Tobar an Dualchais / Kist o’ Riches website, tobarandualchais.co.uk, the online portal for the School of Scottish Studies Sound Archives at the University of Edinburgh.

James Laurenson – Track ID: 78534 Bryce Whyte – Track ID: 76722

viii: Botanica Fabula

Love Apples and the Devil's Shoestring Amanda Edmiston The silvery, silken strands of the Devil's Shoestring catch the faint hum of breeze that vibrates this dogday of summer. I'm unfamiliar with Goat’s Rue (Galega officinalis), and once we’ve identified the plant, we pick a few.

Coupling them with fragrant Mugwort (Artemesia vulgaris), 'the travellers herb', we line our hot-soled shoes with the soft, green plants.

Legs aching from the long walk, I had mentioned the lore that the leaves of Goat's Rue, placed in shoes, can ward off the early signs of rheumatism. To be honest, it's all I've got. I've been searching for a story about the plant for weeks now, but it just hasn't settled with me. My companion laughs. She's been delving into the world of folk names— Goat’s Rue, Italian Fitch, Catgut, Devil's Shoestrings —and, as we walk to help with my quest, she suggests we should be mindful of this herb’s reputation as an aphrodisiac. We find ourselves listing all the herbs we pass that have been connected to conjuring the carnal.

The scent of Vervain (Verbena officinalis) catches our nostrils as we make our way along the verge, and we ponder whether some of the aphrodisiac herbs have obtained their reputations from the old claims that they may increase breast milk and promote the growth of glandular tissue. A combine harvester rolls past in the adjacent field, and the aromatic

coumarin— the top notes of new mown hay — overwhelm the Vervain, and the conversation quickly deteriorates into a selection of clichéd observations about boobs and rolling in the hay. We fall prey to entirely unmerited fits of the giggles, decide the sun isn't getting any cooler, thunder clouds are looming, and we should head for home.

She asks me what I do when I can't find a story about a plant, and I explain how I 'storymend'.

It’s an idea that first came to me when I started sharing plant stories. I find folklore or snippets of things that sound as if they're from a story and build up the missing threads, connecting them to facts about a plant. I think of examples, and she asks me to tell her a story...

This is story mended from the European folklore surrounding another plant with a reputation as an aphrodisiac, one which, when it was first introduced, was avoided. Being of the Nightshades family, people felt it might be poisonous, and there was a bit of Northern European lore that said witches used the Love Apple (Solanum lycopersicum), the Wolf Peach, or— as we know it —the Tomato, to turn their enemies into werewolves. As we walk, I start to share my story of the Wolf Peach: There was once a girl, a girl who lived alone with her mother in a dark, wild

viii: Botanica Fabula wood; a wood on the edge of a dark, wild town; a town torn from the bed of the river and ripped from the heart of the meadow; a town with towers taller than the trees; towers with more inhabitants than the trees that came before them, more inhabitants than the ash, or even the mighty oak itself; inhabitants dwelling like folkloric spiders in a gall wasp’s Oak Apple; spiders foretelling of shortages and tainted crops. These inhabitants were restricted by invisible chains; chains of service, chains of fear and mistrust, chains wrought when their knowledge had been wrenched from them. These inhabitants were left afraid, afraid of the wild wood and the tidal waters beyond.

Day by day, the girl watched as her mother tended the plants in her garden; a garden half tame, half wild wood. She watched and learned as her mother brewed tisanes, steamed soups, baked cakes, infused teas, chopped stews, cut herbs, and harvested plants. She watched and tasted, learned and listened. Every day, she listed to her mother every fruit and vegetable, every flower and leaf, every herb and spice, every tree and root; all the ones she loved and all the ones she didn't, all the ones that healed and all the ones that harmed, all she liked and only one she loathed— red and nightshadescented, juicy and sponge-like, textured like cut tongue, the slippery hint of antagonistic green guarding the seeds within, criss-crossed with membrane, too visceral, too sweet, its sharp acidic punch bringing bile to her throat, making her mouth water and her stomach lurch, confusing and repellent —the Wolf Peach.

Her mother had known, as the child had swollen inside her, known as her own body had reviled the shades— the Potato, the Aubergine. Tomatoes had

brought heartburn, heartache, nausea and dreams; dreams of skin walkers, prowling and inflammatory.

Now, as the girl grew, sought womanhood and wider knowledge, she beseeched her to try, to discover for herself its inflammatory cascade.

She knew eventually, she must. But, alone in the house, the girl carefully kept the fruit to its ripening place on the mantelpiece, to repel bile and attract money— a more positive cause and effect, she felt.

Eventually, the day came when, fully grown now, the men started to come to her door. They begged and promised, cajoled and insisted, beguiled and charmed, promises in hand but bags empty, and she took to handing out the loathed fruit and watching as, one by one, they bit and swallowed and howled at the moon, as they grew viscous, demanding and callous, malicious and malodorous, 'til exhausted and fearful she slammed the door. She reached for her mother's hand, held tight and did not understand her mother's eyes of sorrow, nor her disconcerting, mirthless laugh.

‘You'll get it right in the end’ her mother said, ‘you just need to trust yourself and keep watching for it’.

So, the girl watched and looked, hunting amongst the dust purple pollen of the Nightshade, that beautiful, disdainful, venomous aunt of the Tomato. She crawled wide-eyed through the evil, peanut stench of the Datura, through Hemlock and Henbane. Until she realised: the answer lay not there, but amongst the Basil and the Melissa, the Thyme and the Sage— herbs of knowledge and strength —along the Celery's conduit for paranoia, the Parsley’s trigger for tidal flow, and with the Wolf Peach itself. The more she knew, the less the suitors chapped at her door, 'til one alone stood forward, shaking his head,

viii: Botanica Fabula refusing the Tomato she offered, untill the girl stepped from inside her mother's house. And, as the moon rose and her body swelled, and the tides across the dark town drew her near, she took the Wolf Peach and its lycanthropic call and consumed it. And as the ill-minded, lurking in the shadows of the nearby woods, cursed her and withdrew, the one was left, standing, watching, arm outstretched, ready to catch her if she fell. He did not roar back as she screamed, transformed, lycanthropy complete.

Instead, he knew in his heart that this wolf woman had beauty and strength to resist the darkness, to know it, engage with it, and that, with him by her side, she would take her place alongside her mother as a woman of the dark, wild wood.

As we return home and begin to make our first infusion with the Goat's Rue, I wonder if this is just a plant I need to understand a bit better.

Like the eighteenth-century attitude to the Tomato, it's a perspective that will settle in time. But not yet. I'm not sure I like the taste; the words don't come. I set the tisane to one side, and we chop freshly picked Tomatoes for a salad, instead.

viii: StAnza Presents…

Jay Whittaker

Risky Breasts

Enjoy abseiling, hang-gliding, rollercoasters.

Are sloping off for a sly fag mid-morning.

Don’t care what they eat: fish suppers, pizza, doughnuts, Campbell’s meatballs.

Will open that second bottle.

Are the bad girl in Grease, all surly attitude leading to ruin. Don’t care about their career, spend six months in the Andes. Won’t fasten their seatbelt in the back, particularly not for short hops.

Spend up each month, never save, always run petrol down to the fumes.

Are jaywalking across intersections in a country where traffic comes at you on the other side to home.

Jay Whittaker grew up in Devon and Nottingham, and has lived and worked in Edinburgh for over 20 years. Her debut poetry collection, Wristwatch (Cinnamon Press), was the Scottish Poetry Book of the Year in the Saltire Society Literary Awards 2018, and her second collection Sweet Anaesthetist came out in 2020. Jay is one of Edinburgh's Other Writers, and writes about resilience, grief, living with cancer, and LGBT+ lives (including her own).

StAnza brings poetry to audiences and enables encounters with poetry through events and projects in Scotland and beyond, especially their annual spring festival in St Andrews. www.stanzapoetry.org

Facebook: stanzapoetry

Instagram: @stanzapoetry

Morag Donkin Borders of Winter I

ix: Book Club Sleep— the elixir of life: How to Restore Sleep with Herbs and Natural Healing (Herbert, C.; Aeon Books, 2021) Reviewer: Marianne Hughes Christine Herbert was a biomedical scientist with the NHS for nineteen years before qualifying as a herbalist. She has now practised as a herbalist for twenty-two years. Her wide knowledge of physiology and the action of herbs is reflected in this book, and— showcased through interesting and engaging case studies — so is her wealth of experience in direct practice with clients. While she states that her book is aimed at herbalists, I’d consider it useful to anyone with sleep problems or an interest in sleep.

The book is divided into eleven chapters, with themes such as the effect of stress and anxiety on sleep, the effect of diet and digestion on sleep, and helping babies and children sleep better. She also considers the urinary system, and issues of pain that cause sleep disturbance.

This book could, therefore, serve as a useful reference manual for specific issues. Indeed, in chapters nine and ten— Materia Medica —the author collates all the herbs and flower essences she uses as remedies, giving explanations for their actions.

It is clear from the way the book is written, and from the case studies, that the author takes a holistic, systemic approach to sleep problems.

She investigates her clients’ diets and tests for food allergies, as well as exploring life issues and any use of pharmaceutical medications.

She makes it clear that there are no quick fixes to sleep problems, and that coming to an understanding of cause is crucial.

In a crowded field of titles about sleep, this is an interesting and informative book. The clear, cartoon-style drawings add a liveliness to the volume, and the recipe for a green smoothie (p.178) looks delicious.

Seeking Reviewers Are you reading something you would recommend to others?

We’re always interested in reviews of books to share with fellow herbal folk.

Please simply send us a review, or get in touch: herbologynews@gmail.com

Morag Donkin Borders of Winter II

Advertisement Sleep— the elixir of life: How to Restore Sleep with Herbs and Natural Healing (Herbert, C.; Aeon Books, 2021) Reviewer: Marianne Hughes Christine Herbert was a biomedical scientist with the NHS for nineteen years before qualifying as a herbalist. She has now practised as a herbalist for twenty-two years. Her wide knowledge of physiology and the action of herbs is reflected in this book, and— showcased through interesting and engaging case studies — so is her wealth of experience in direct practice with clients. While she states that her book is aimed at herbalists, I’d consider it useful to anyone with sleep problems or an interest in sleep.

The book is divided into eleven chapters, with themes such as the effect of stress and anxiety on sleep, the effect of diet and digestion on sleep, and helping babies and children sleep better. She also considers the urinary system, and issues of pain that cause sleep disturbance.

This book could, therefore, serve as a useful reference manual for specific issues. Indeed, in chapters nine and ten— Materia Medica —the author collates all the herbs and flower essences she uses as remedies, giving explanations for their actions.

It is clear from the way the book is written, and from the case studies, that the author takes a holistic, systemic approach to sleep problems.

She investigates her clients’ diets and tests for food allergies, as well as exploring life issues and any use of pharmaceutical medications.

She makes it clear that there are no quick fixes to sleep problems, and that coming to an understanding of cause is crucial.

In a crowded field of titles about sleep, this is an interesting and informative book. The clear, cartoon-style drawings add a liveliness to the volume, and the recipe for a green smoothie (p.178) looks delicious.

Seeking Reviewers Are you reading something you would recommend to others?

We’re always interested in reviews of books to share with fellow herbal folk.

Please simply send us a review, or get in touch: herbologynews@gmail.com

ix: Book Club Sleep— the elixir of life: How to Restore Sleep with Herbs and Natural Healing (Herbert, C.; Aeon Books, 2021) Reviewer: Marianne Hughes Christine Herbert was a biomedical scientist with the NHS for nineteen years before qualifying as a herbalist. She has now practised as a herbalist for twenty-two years. Her wide knowledge of physiology and the action of herbs is reflected in this book, and— showcased through interesting and engaging case studies — so is her wealth of experience in direct practice with clients. While she states that her book is aimed at herbalists, I’d consider it useful to anyone with sleep problems or an interest in sleep.

The book is divided into eleven chapters, with themes such as the effect of stress and anxiety on sleep, the effect of diet and digestion on sleep, and helping babies and children sleep better. She also considers the urinary system, and issues of pain that cause sleep disturbance.

This book could, therefore, serve as a useful reference manual for specific issues. Indeed, in chapters nine and ten— Materia Medica —the author collates all the herbs and flower essences she uses as remedies, giving explanations for their actions.

It is clear from the way the book is written, and from the case studies, that the author takes a holistic, systemic approach to sleep problems.

She investigates her clients’ diets and tests for food allergies, as well as exploring life issues and any use of pharmaceutical medications.

She makes it clear that there are no quick fixes to sleep problems, and that coming to an understanding of cause is crucial.

In a crowded field of titles about sleep, this is an interesting and informative book. The clear, cartoon-style drawings add a liveliness to the volume, and the recipe for a green smoothie (p.178) looks delicious.

Seeking Reviewers Are you reading something you would recommend to others?

We’re always interested in reviews of books to share with fellow herbal folk.

Please simply send us a review, or get in touch: herbologynews@gmail.com

i: Subscribe

Herbology News has grown from courses taught at Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh, where many (but by no means all) of our team and contributors studied.

A suite of Herbology courses, led by Catherine ConwayPayne, is still available as part of the broad range of education courses offered by RBGE. However, Herbology News is neither financially nor materially supported by RBGE. Written and produced entirely by volunteers, we welcome donations and advertisers to help us cover the costs of our digital publishing software.

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x: Contributors

Hazel Brady’s background is in IT, but she has always loved plants and since retiring has expanded her knowledge, especially around herbs. She completed the Diploma in Herbology at RBGE under Catherine Conway-Payne. Retirement has also given her the opportunity to develop another of her interests— an artistic practice centred in drawing and painting.

Ruth Crighton-Ward has had a long interest in plants and nature, although her first career was in Stage Management. After 18 years working in a variety of Scottish theatres, she decided to go into gardening.

She took her RHS Level 2 in Horticulture, as well as a Certificate in Practical Horticulture at RBGE. In 2014 she started her own gardening business, which has proved successful. In 2018, alongside her full-time work as a gardener, she returned to the RBGE for a Diploma in Herbology.

Patrick Dunne is an Edinburgh-based community gardener. Since 2018 he has, with his partner Katie Smith, co-organised an International Fringe event staging readings of the 2018 IPCC 1.5 Degrees Global Warming report, made lots of flat sourdough bread and camped, marched and organised as an occasional environmental activist.

Amanda Edmiston was raised in stories; her mother is a professional storyteller, her dad was a toymaker, her grandfather a sculptor, her gran a repository of traditional remedies and folklore.

After studying law, then herbal medicine, Amanda began to blend facts, folklore, traditional tales, history and herbal remedies into unique works. Based in rural Stirlingshire, you can follow her on Facebook, @HerbalStorytell, and find more of her works at www.botanicafabula.co.uk

x: Contributors

Sarah Frances lives and works on the North Sea coast of East Anglia, in Suffolk, where the plants and wildlife of these unique, transient areas of vegetated shingle and saltmarsh, and the secret waters of the rivers and estuaries continue to fascinate her throughout the seasons.

David Hughes is an organic gardener, fruit and veg enthusiast, plant nutritionist, terpine whisperer, seed collector, green librarian and half decent in the kitchen. Most often found disturbing the peace in the woods of East Lothian, or more occasionally wandering in unimproved pastures looking quizzically at things, David looks to explore landscapes, people and their relationships with the plants that surround them by examining the esoteric sides of herbology through conversation, experience and silly wee stories.

Marianne Hughes began following her interest in complementary medicine after a career in Social Work Education and voluntary work in Fair Trade.

Starting with Reflexology & Reiki, she progressed into Herbal Medicine. The evening classes at the RBGE got her hooked and she completed the Certificate in Herbology and, more recently, the Diploma in Herbology. Her current joy is experimenting with herb-growing in her own garden, in a local park, and alongside other volunteers in the RBGE Physic Garden. marianne@commonfuture.co.uk Ann King has always dabbled in gardening in some shape or form is now a horticultural therapist and graduate of the RBGE Herbology Diploma. She is passionate about facilitating nature re-connection and enabling its therapeutic benefits by creatively adapting knowledge and stories for organised group sessions: either outdoors, incorporating exercise; or sedentary, indoor, experiential workshops. You can follow her on IG: @yourthymefornature or at www.thymefornature.com

x: Contributors

Dr. Ella Leith is an ethnologist and folklorist who studied in Scotland and now lives in Malta. She particularly loves folktales and the storytelling traditions of linguistic and cultural minorities. IG: @leithyface

Maddy Mould is an illustrator living in the Scottish Borders. Her work is heavily influenced by the magic of the surrounding natural landscape.

IG: @maddymould and www.maddymould.co.uk

Joseph Nolan practices Herbal Medicine in Edinburgh, at the UK’s oldest herbal clinic, and specialises in men’s health and paediatrics. He is a member of the Association of Foragers, and teaches classes and workshops related to herbal medicine making, wild plants, foraging, and natural health. You can find him on Facebook and Instagram @herbalmedicineman, and on his website: www.herbalmedicineman.com

Kyra Pollitt is a graduate of the Diploma in Herbology at the RBGE. When not editing Herbology News, she works as a translator, interpreter, writer and artist. She lives on the Isle of Harris, where she is busily planting and growing a garden. www.actsoftranslation.com and www.wilderorb.com

Dora Wagner is a graduate of the RBGE Diploma in Herbology, and a Didactician in Natural Science. She also works as a Naturopath for Psychotherapy, and as a Horticultural Therapist. She currently lectures in Medical Herbalism at the University of Witten/Herdecke, and is leading a project reconstructing the medicinal herb garden of an Anthroposophic Hospital in Germany. dora.wagner@t-online.de and www.plantadora.de

x: Looking Forward

10//21: The Moist Issue There will be no Herbology News next month as all our columnists and team take a well-earned break.

We’ll be back with our October issue, featuring:  The return of your favourite columnists  Plus, some fresh faces  Plus, Artists of the Month: Kahn and Selesnick  Plus, Herb of the Month: Marshmallow (Althaea officinalis)  Plus, we focus on mucus!

And more….

Enjoy your herbal harvests and we’ll see you again in October.