China Bayles' Book of Days (33 page)

SOME SINISTER MEANINGS (PERFECT FOR ONE OF CHINA’S MYSTERIES!)

Clematis: trickery
Dead leaves: melancholy
Hemlock: “You will be my death”
Lettuce: “You have a cold heart”
Monkshood: deceit
Nettle: cruelty

Read more about floral expressions:

The Language of Flowers,
by Kathleen Gips

Tussie-Mussies: The Victorian Art of Expressing Yourself in Flowers
, by Geraldine Laufer

JUNE 7

Since sexual abstinence was supposed to be a part of cloister life, the monks [of the Middle Ages] needed agents that could free them of all desire. What they needed was an anaphrodisiac, an agent that would silence all sexual appetite and transform any paroxysms of desire into chaste thoughts . . . Searching the ancient texts, they finally found what they wanted. . . . And thus, the chase tree, or
agnus castus
, became a common sight in cloister gardens.

—CHRISTIAN RÄTSCH, PLANTS OF LOVE

Chaste Trees

Here at Meadow Knoll, the chaste trees (
Vitex agnus-castus
) are heavy with purple blooms, to the enormous delight of hummingbirds and bees. Chaste trees are easily rooted from cuttings; we have a dozen, all daughters of a single chaste tree we planted in 1987. In the summer, these tree-herbs form a lovely hedge, about 14 feet high; they lose their leaves in the winter, but their bare branches are a pretty sight. Summer or winter, a fine addition to the garden.

The herbal history and lore of the chaste tree is fascinating. The monks based their belief that the berries would inhibit sexual desire on the testimony of Dioscorides, a famous first-century BCE Greek herbalist whose
De Materia Medica
was the first systematic pharmacopoeia. He reported that “when drunk, [
agnus-castus
] curbs the urge to cohabit,” while the Roman naturalist Pliny observed that “the dames of Athens . . . made their pallets and beds with the leaves thereof to cool the heat of lust, and to keep themselves chaste for the time.” With that kind of testimony, who can blame the monks for adding a handful of the spicy chaste berries—it came to be called monk’s pepper—to a dish of cooked greens, or brewing the ground seeds as a tea? Some monks even carried special protection against unchaste feelings: a knife with a handle made from the wood of the chaste tree.

Through the centuries, the herb was widely used in Europe to treat digestive ailments, colic, and flatulence, and as a “female herb,” to treat pain and inflammation of the uterus. Today, it is often recommended as a treatment for PMS.

If you’re looking for a pretty herbal tree with an intriguing history of human use, try the chaste tree. The bees will love you for it.

Read more about the chaste tree:

Plants of Love
, by Christian Rätsch

Vitex: The Women’s Herb
, by Christopher Hobbs

Do you see that lady wearing a crown
And dressed all in white?
She is Diana, goddess of chastity.
She bears a branch of agnus castus in her hand
As do all the ladies with her,
All wearing chaplets of that herb,
For they have kept always their maidenhead.
—THE FLOWER AND THE LEAF (ONCE ASCRIBED TO CHAUCER)

JUNE 8

We had a kettle; we let it leak:
Our not repairing made it worse.
We haven’t had any tea for a week . . .
The bottom is out of the Universe.
—RUDYARD KIPLING, “NATURAL THEOLOGY”

Tea: The Real Deal

According to Chinese legend, the first cup of tea was brewed about five thousand years ago by Shen Nong, a.k.a. The Divine Cultivator. One day, he was boiling water outdoors when leaves of the tea plant (
Camellia sinensis
) blew off a nearby bush and dropped into the water. The Divine Cultivator tasted the brew and found that it hit the spot. A cup of tea was soon on everyone’s table.

The Buddhists explain things differently. The monk Dharuma practiced meditation all day long. One drowsy afternoon, he found his eyelids drooping. So that this would not happen again, he sliced them off and threw them away. A tea plant sprang up where they fell, and after a little trial and error, Dharuma discovered the secret of brewing its leaves into a drink that would keep him awake—although one has to suppose that he learned to sleep with his eyes open.

Tea became known in Europe in the 1600s, as British merchant ships made their way to the Orient and back again. The sprightly stimulant became immediately popular and a brisk trade developed. Tea helped to precipitate at least one war (the American Revolution began with the Boston Tea Party), served several governments as currency, and helped to build the British Empire. Americans have done their fair share, too. They invented iced tea (first served at the St. Louis World’s Fair in 1904) and the tea bag (first used in 1908 in New York City by Thomas Sullivan).

Tea is more than just a delicious stimulant, however. In the last few years, scientists have compiled a convincing dossier on the therapeutic virtues of tea. Tea can help to protect the arteries against cholesterol clogs; inhibit the growth of cancers of the colon, stomach, and breast; reduce inflammation; and neutralize many viruses. You can drink black tea or green tea, hot tea or iced tea, with or without caffeine. But do drink brewed tea; scientists say that bottled tea and instant tea don’t have as many antioxidants. Herbal teas have different health benefits; you’ll want to check them out, as well.

Kipling is right, of course. No tea for a week would turn our world upside down!

Read more about the mysteries of tea:

The New Tea Book: A Guide to Black, Green, Herbal, and Chai Tea
, by Sara Perry

If on the 8th of June it rain
Then foretells a wet harvest, men sayen.
—TRADITIONAL

JUNE 9

The hair that showed under Ruby’s hat was such a vibrant copper that it looked as if she had put on her hat to snuff out a blazing fire.

I opened the door and got out, blinking. “What have you done to your hair?”

She jammed her hat down on her head. “Why? Is something wrong with it?”

“It’s very red.” At the look on her face, I repented. “But on you, very red is good. Gives you a little extra whoomf.” As if she needed it.

“I henna-ed it last night,” she said. “With paprika and cinnamon.”

I stood up on tiptoes to sniff. “You’re right. Definitely cinnamon. You smell like apple pie.”

Ruby smiled modestly. “Next time I’m going to try nutmeg and allspice.”

—MISTLETOE MAN: A CHINA BAYLES MYSTERY

Henna, the Herb

Ruby isn’t the first woman in the world to go gaga over henna. This semi-permanent botanical colorant enhances the hair tones of brunettes and redheads (Ruby certainly qualifies!). And because it coats and smoothes each strand, it protects the hair from damage. It is also said that the herb helps to relieve tension around the eyes and forehead, as well as condition the scalp and reduce dandruff and oiliness. And Ruby is right: Spices like cinnamon, nutmeg, and allspice, as well as cloves, tea, and coffee can all alter the basic henna treatment.

Henna (
Lawsonia inermis
) is a tropical shrub whose green leaves are dried and ground into a fine powder, which is graded for color, purity, and fineness. Purchase henna powder from beauty supply houses and on-line.

VERSATILE HENNA

To color the hair, powdered henna is mixed with water to make a thick paste, which is applied to clean, towel-dried hair. The hair is covered with a shower cap and a towel, which is left on for 2-6 hours.

Women of other times and other cultures have used henna on their fingernails and toenails. The herb colors and conditions the nails as it does the hair. Because henna paste has antifungal and antiseptic properties, it can also soothe damaged cuticles. Ancient herbals recommended using henna as a deodorant, and in Algeria, henna leaves were placed in shoes to sweeten sweaty feet. In the East, henna has been used to treat wounds, ease mild burns and stings, and heal acne. In Malaysia, a henna-leaf tea is gargled for sore throat and drunk for dysentery.

All that from a hair coloring? No wonder that, when Lucy Arnaz thought her building was on fire, she thought first about rescuing her jugs of henna!

Read more about the magic of henna:

Henna, from Head to Toe
, by Norma Pasekoff Weinbert

“My God, I’m outliving my henna.”

—LUCILLE BALL

JUNE 10

According to some, the Celtic Month of the Oak begins today.

Fairy folks
Are in old oaks.
—ENGLISH SAYING

The Sacred Oak

Because of its great size, age, and dignity, the oak tree has been venerated by many cultures. According to Sir James Frazer, whose
Golden Bough
is a compendium of this sort of thing, the Greeks dedicated the oak to Zeus, the Romans to Jupiter, and the Norse to Thor. The Druids worshipped it too, performing their rites in sacred groves of old oaks. Perhaps, Frazer muses, the reverence these ancient people paid to the oak and the connection they traced to their sky-god was due to the fact that the oak appears to be struck by lightning more frequently than other trees.

THE MEDICINAL OAK

Many different cultures have used the oak as a source of plant medicine. Throughout Europe, the leaves, acorns, and bark were used as an astringent, tonic, and antiseptic. The inner bark, rich in tannic acid, was harvested in early spring, dried in the sun, and made into a decoction to be used as a gargle for throat and mouth infections. It was also employed as a hot compress for skin ulcers and hemorrhoids. It was drunk as a remedy for diarrhea. An astringent, it was powdered and used like snuff to stop nosebleeds.

In America, Indians used the oak (there are some forty native species) in similar ways. It is mentioned often in accounts of early American medical practice as both astringent and antiseptic. Acorn coffee and acorn meal were also used.

THE MAGICAL OAK

The oak was often invoked in predicting the weather:

If the oak is out before the ash, we will surely have a splash.

If the ash is out before the oak, we shall surely have a soak.

The herbalist John Gerard (1597) reported that the oak gall (
Quercus infectoria
) was predictive, too. If the gall was opened and an ant was found, it foretold a year of plentiful harvests; if a spider, there would be disease; if a worm, disease among the herds and flocks; if the worm crept, a poor harvest; if it turned, plague; if it flew, there would be war.

If you doubt that the oak is magical, I invite you to visit Wistman’s Wood, on Dartmoor, in the valley of Devonport Leat. The ancient trees, twisted and bent and no more than 15 feet high, grow out of the granite rocks and are covered with lichen. This enchanted place will make a believer of you.

Read more about the magic of the oak:

Oak: The Frame of Civilization
, by William Bryant Logan

JUNE 11

The tall columns of the Yucca or Adam’s Needle stood like shafts of marble against the hedge trees of the Indian Hill garden. . . . In the daytime the Yucca’s blossoms hang in scentless, greenish white bells, but at night these bells lift up their heads and expand with great stars of light and odor. . . . Even by moonlight we can see the little white detached fibres at the edge of the leaves, which we are told the Mexican women used as thread to sew with. And we children used to pull off the strong fibres and put them in a needle and sew with them too.

—ALICE MORSE EARLE, OLD TIME GARDENS, 1901

Spanish Dagger: From Susan’s Journal

Yucca will get your attention. When it’s not in bloom, it’s tall and commanding. When it’s in bloom, it’s simply stunning: a towering flower stalk, decorated with white flower bells, each with its own resident bee. The whole plant seems to hum. When the crown produces its flower stalk, that’s the final chapter. It dies, but its side shoots—its clones—are waiting their turn to bloom.

I’ve gotten interested in yucca because of one of its folk names: Spanish dagger. Sounds plenty deadly to me, and I’ve chosen it as the title and the signature herb for the fifteenth China Bayles book. Already, yucca is teaching me some fascinating things. I’ve learned, for instance, that this is an edible plant; when I served the blossoms steamed, with a hollandaise sauce, Bill pronounced them as good as artichokes. The Indians ground the dried flat, black seeds into meal and baked them as cakes, but I think I waited too long. When I went to gather them, the bugs had beat me to it. Maybe next year.