Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Juniper


I was planning to write about one evergreen every week during the Winter and thought I'd start with the most ubiquitous evergreen in my neighborhood: the juniper.

Every old apartment building and many of the older homes in my neighborhood are surrounded by these scraggly, prickly bushes. Mine is no exception. For years, I plotted with my neighbors to tear them out, but none of us ever had enough nerve to tackle the job. Junipers are painfully prickly and that's what they're good for: protection. Then just a few months ago, the apartment building handyman pruned them back severely and suddenly they look like bonsai (in fact, juniper is the preferred bonsai plant). They're actually quite beautiful.

So now that I've come to appreciate them, I wanted to be able to identify them. And here, I ran into trouble again. All junipers are members of the Cypress family. They are all evergreens with scale-like leaves. In fact, if you look at a juniper branch closely, you will see that it seems very primitive, like the horsetail, with its overlapping scales.

According to Wikipedia, which has some wonderful photographs of junipers,
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Juniper
there are between 50 and 67 varieties of junipers. The ones in front of my apartment
building are probably Chinese junipers, which seem to have been the favorite hedge plants many years ago. I know my father planted some around my childhood home in the Fifties, but the ones in my neighborhood are mostly in front of buildings that go back to 1905 and 1910, so who knows how old they are?

Chinese junipers have juvenile shoots that are spiky and as sharp as needles. The mature shoots have rounded tips, and some of the ones in my neighborhood are showing hints of yellow male flowers at the tips. Winter is when they typically flower; they throw their pollen in spring. My tree identification book says that Chinese junipers have a sour, resinous, catty scent. Another reason for my positive identification. I took some snippets of juniper to work with me and when I opened the envelope in which I had placed them, the scent was distinctly catbox.

But what of all the other juniper-like trees in my neighborhood? I found some wonderful trees outside the Safeway at John and 15th. They are twisted into marvelous shapes and peppered with the bluish berries that I think of as juniper berries, those berries that give the distinctive flavor to gin. If I felt confident they hadn't been sprayed (I'm not), I could gather them and use them to make schnapps using this recipe from my favorite schnapps website:
http://www.danish-schnapps-recipes.com/juniper.html

My tree book tries to distinguish between the different varieties of junipers, cypresses, cedars and thujas (all members of the Cypress family), all of which have similar foliage, by describing the scent of the leaves when crushed. So now I am wandering around my neighborhood pinching juniper leaves and sniffing them.

Does it smell like turpentine? Then it may be an incense cedar or a Nootka cypress (which will also be harsh to the touch when rubbed the wrong way)
A warm sweet scent like pencils? That would be a Hinoki cedar
A warm gingery scent? White cedar
Scent of old seaweed? Formosan cypress
Lemony? Monterey cypress
Rich scent of thyme and lemons? Gowen cypress
Grapefruit? Smooth Arizona cypress
No distinctive scent? Italian cypress or Mexican cypress
An aroma like new-mown grass? Bhutan cypress
Apples? Common juniper
Paint or kitchen soap? Pencil cedar or drooping juniper (which will also rustle in the hand)
Pineapple? Western red cedar
Rich fruit cake with plenty of almonds and a trace of lemons? Korean thuja
Glorious scent of lemon and eucalyptus? Japanese thuja

And I think I did find one of these, right next to the berry-bearing junipers outside Safeway.
I'm still looking for ones that smell like fruit cake, almonds and lemons. I will continue to do research and let you know what I find out. I am becoming enamored of these prickly plants, especially now that I am paying attention to their scent.

Reference:
Mitchell, Alan, The Trees of Britain and Northern Europe, Collins 1982

Photograph of juniper from the Danish Schnapps web site:
http://www.danish-schnapps-recipes.com/juniper.html

Monday, January 08, 2007

New Year's Power Surges

New Year’s Power Surges

I’m behind on my blog entries. Trying to puzzle out the identity of the various kinds of juniper (cypress?) that appear in many different yards and planting strips in my neighborhood. Meanwhile I thought you would find this anecdote amusing.

For the past several years, on New Year’s Day, I will be sitting at my desk when I hear the sound of bagpipes, and rush to the window to see a procession of kilted bagpipers, drummers and folks waving Welsh, Scottish and Irish flags marching down the street. I think of them as the First-Footers and indeed, they go into various businesses and homes in my neighborhood as a way of bringing good luck for the new year.

This year they went into a neighboring house and while they were inside, a car parked on the street outside caught on fire. It was quite dramatic, with the car alarm going off incessantly and a fire truck arriving and the firemen popping open the hood, to reveal a jolly fire blazing on the engine block. They quickly extinguished the fire (the poor car was later towed away). I didn’t think too much of it, except that in all the excitement, I didn’t wave my Welsh flag out of my window as I had planned when the First-Footers emerged from the house and surrounded the fire truck to play for the firemen.

But a few days later I was in 22 Doors, my favorite local restaurant and bar, and learned that they had been closed for several days because their computer system went down. They were blaming it on a power surge. And it turned out that the power surge coincided with the entry into the establishment of the First Footers. Now I am wondering about that car fire. And it certainly makes me believe in the power of ritual.

Saturday, December 30, 2006

Yew, Tree of Winter Solstice


Yew

The yew is a tree with rough bark,
hard and fast in the earth, supported by its roots,
a guardian of flame and a joy upon an estate.

Anglo Saxon rune poem
From Wikipedia article on the rune Eihwaz
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eihwaz


I chose to write about the yew for Winter Solstice, standing as it does between the six weeks which I am calling the tide of the berries (Halloween to Yule) and the six weeks of evergreens (Yule to Candlemas), since the yew has both berries and evergreen foliage (although the berries are actually fruit and the yew is not a true conifer). It is a sacred tree, featured over centuries and cultures, in myth and folklore, and symbolizing both death and rebirth, thus resonating with the message of the Winter Solstice when in the midst of darkness the Sun is born again.

There is a great yew hedge over 14 feet high between two houses down the street from my apartment building on Capitol Hill. A few weeks ago it was dotted with red fruit and made the perfect Christmas statement. The fruit of the yew is called an aril. They look like soft, squashy red gumdrops with a hole in one end. Although many people believe they are poisonous (the foliage and bark of the yew are), the berries are edible, although the hard seed inside is not. Birds love the fruit and that’s how the yew is distributed, as the seed passes through their digestive tracts intact.

There’s a lively discussion about whether it’s safe to eat the arils on the Plants for a Future site but it seems that as long as you don’t eat the seed, you should be OK. The tastes is described as sweet, possibly sickly, and the texture as snotty (not totally appealing, is it?).
http://www.pfaf.org/database/plants.php?Taxus+baccata

Nevertheless, I had gotten up my nerve to try one and visited the yew hedge yesterday. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that every fruit was gone. I even peered inside the hedge to see if I could find one that had been protected, but they were all gone, except for a few dusty ones scattered on the ground underneath the yew. Either the birds or the high winds had beaten me to it.

The other yew in my neighborhood was in front of my apartment building, making an interesting trinity with a hawthorn and a holly (in my neighborhood, hollies are often planted beside hawthorns and I wonder why). At some point, someone cut down the yew but yews are hard to kill. It is now putting out many small branches, forming a low hedge all around the trunks of the other trees. I don’t recall ever seeing fruit on this yew, so it must be a male tree.

While I was researching for this article, I found so much information on yews, that I can’t possibly summarize it. In fact, there is a whole book on yews: The Sacred Yew by Anand Cheton and Diana Brueton which I was able to get out of my public library. It focuses on the work of Allen Meredith, who, spurred on by dreams, made it his life work to learn about and protect the ancient yews of England. Another big fan of yews, is one of my favorite tree writers, Fred Hageneder, who founded a society, Friends of the Trees, to save endangered yews in England. It seems to be that kind of tree.

Yews are members of the genus Taxus, which contains only eight species. It grows in temperate climates as far south as Sumatra and Central America. The common yew is Taxus baccata. Baccata means berry. Taxus comes from the Greek word for arrow, a word that also is the root of poison. There’s some speculation that arrows were poisoned and thus the connection but it seems just as likely to me that it refers to the toxicity of the plant itself. The leaves are so poisonous that eating as little as 50-100 grams of chopped leaves would be fatal to an adult. I found a website about poisonous plants and horses that mentioned that yew was so toxic that horses were frequently found dead with yew leaves still in their mouths.

The name yew itself has an interesting history that goes back to the Germanic iwe (iwa) which is related to ihhe, the word for first person singular. In Anglo Saxon ih means both I and the yew triee. Iwe is also related to ewi which means eternal. The 13th rune in the old Norse rune alphabet, the old futhark, is called ihwa or eiwaz meaning yew and it represents death and rebirth. There is also a rune, yr, associated with the yew in the younger Scandinavian rune set. It looks like the old Stone Age symbol for the Tree of Life and as a result, some scholars believe that Yggradasil, the tree on which Odin hung himself for four days and nights, before bringing back the runes, was a yew tree. His spear was made from a branch of the tree.

The needles of a yew tree are about ½ to 1 inch long, flat, dark green above and pale green below. The tree flowers in spring (mid-February to mid-March) and both male and female trees flower. Gilbert White complained about the ancient yew in the churchyard of his parish at Selborne in 1789 which had the habit of throwing out pollen in April (as male yews will) all over his parishioners.

The yew has an interesting growth pattern. It grows very slowly, at about half the rate of other trees, and thus lives a long time. The interior of the trunk often crumbles so the trunk becomes hollow. Thomas Pakenham, who photographed many beautiful old yews in his marvelous book, Meetings with Remarkable Trees, describes the hollow interior of the old yew at Crowhurst thus: “New wood in an old yew tree accumulates like coral. The old room now resembles a cave flowing with pink fretted rock.” Sometimes an aerial root grows down inside the hollow trunk and becomes a new trunk, thus the imagery of life in death. Yews also grow outward because branches sprout new roots when they hit the ground, thus creating tangles of branches and trunks.

There is much dispute about the age of yews since they cannot be dated like other trees (by counting rings because the oldest wood, in the interior of the tree, is missing). Instead scientists study records showing the girth of the tree at various historical periods and estimate the age by noting the slow rate of growth. Estimates range from 1,500 to 2,000 years old. This poem provides a glimpse of their great age:

The lives of three wattles, the life of a hound;
The lives of three hounds, the life of a steed;
The lives of three steeds, the life of a man;
The lives of three eagles, the life of a yew;
The life of a yew, the length of an age;
Seven ages from Creation to Doom.
Nennius, Seven Ages

Yew wood is fine-grained, water resistant and so hard it’s sometimes called ironwood. Thus the oldest wood artifact found is a yew spear, found at Clacton in Essex, which dates from 250,000 BC. To give you an idea of how long ago that was, a younger yew spear (from 200,000 BC) was found in lower Saxony lodged between the ribs of a straight-tusked elephant. The oldest musical instruments that have survived are made of yew, as are most of the runic talismans. According to Hageneder, when the wood foundations of buildings in Venice were replaced in the 1950’s the yew beams were still in such good shape they were sold for timber.

Yew was the favorite wood for making bows. Two yew bows were found in the Somerset Levels that date to about 2700 BC. A yew longbow was found with the Neolithic corpse, known as the Iceman, found on the Italian-Austrian border. His bow was 6 feet long, although he was only 5 feet, 2 inches tall. This bow may be even older, possibly dating back to 3,500 BC.

The yew longbow became famous in the 13th and 16th centuries when Welsh archers using yew bows won battles for the English against the Scots, and later the French. The bows were designed with the heartwood on the inside and the sapwood on the outside, so that the heartwood stands up to the compression while the sapwood allows the bow to stretch. During this time period, the English so depleted their own yew stands that they began importing yew, first from Spain, then from the Hanseatic towns of the North and Baltic Seas.

Yews have featured in history for centuries. Robert Graves says that the yew is a death tree, sacred to Hecate in Greece and Italy. When black bulls were sacrificed to Hecate, so ghosts could lap their blood, they were wreathed with yew.

Several Celtic tribes named themselves after the yew tree, including the Eurobones and Eburovices in Gaul. Possibly yew is the source of the word Iberia as in Iberian peninsula. Simon mentions a deity named Eburianus in the Iberian peninsula whose name, noted on a tombstone, derived from the same root as yew. There was a tribe of Celts called the Eburoni (the Yew People) in Portugal. Caesar in the Gallic wars wrote that the chief of the Eburones poisoned himself with yew rather than submit to Rome. It’s possible yew-worshipping Celts were the first invaders of Ireland and named it after the tree as Ierne, Yew Island.

The Yew of Ross is one of the Five Magical Trees of Ireland. Its qualities are described in the Rennes Dindshenchas:

Tree of Ross, a king’s wheel, a prince’s right, a wave’s noise, best of creatures, a straight firm tree, a firm strong god, door of heaven, strength of a building, the good of a crew, a word pure man, full great bounty, the Trinity’s mighty one, a measure’s house, a mother’s good, Mary’s son, a fruitful sea, beauty’s honor, a mind’s lord, diadem of angels, shout of the world, Banba’s renown, might of victory, judgement of origin, judicial doom, faggot of sages, noblest of trees, glory of Leinster, dearest of bushes, a bear’s defence, vigour of life, spell of knowledge, Tree of Ross!

Giraldus Cambrensis, the medieval historian (and my distant relative) noted the ubiquity of yew trees in Ireland in the 1100’s: “Yews are more frequently to be found in this country than in any other I have visited but you will find them principally in old cemeteries and sacred places, where they were planted in ancient times by the hands of holy men, to give them what ornament and beauty they could.”

Chetan and Brueton in their book, The Sacred Yew, hypothesize that yews were planted in neolithic times on sacred sites and on top of barrow graves as symbols of death and life. Early Christian missionaries recognized the sacred nature of the trees and built their churches near them. Monks and hermits were also said to live in the hollows of yew trees, again a recognition that yews marked sacred sites. In tenth-century Wales, the penalty for cutting down a consecrated yew (does that mean a yew growing in a churchyard?) was one pound, more than most people earned in a lifetime.

Yews are often found in growing in churchyards and cemeteries. Some ancient Welsh churches were ringed by circles of yews. After the Norman Conquest, cemeteries were more likely to be rectangular and marked with a yew in each of the four corners. Chetan and Brueton note that the oldest yews were usually male trees planted on the north side of churches. The north was considered the direction of death.

Yews were used in place of palms on Palm Sunday in Britain. Some folklore suggests that it is dangerous to bring yew into the house (it will bring death into the family) but it is also mentioned as an appropriate foliage for winter holiday decorations.

The association with yews and death is a strong one. Shakespeare called the tree the double fatal yew and made Hamlet’s uncle poison the king by pouring its juice (hebenon) into his ear. The 19th century English poets loved to use yews as symbols of melancholy and gloom, as in this poem, “Yew Trees,” by Wordsworth:

There is a yew, the pride of Lorton’s vale,
Which to this day stands single in the midst
Of its own darkness as it stood of yore …
Of vast circumference and gloom profound
This solitary tree! – a living thing
Produced too slowly ever to decay;
Of form and aspect too magnificent
To be destroyed.

Or in this reference in Keats’ “Ode on Melancholy,”

Make not your rosary of yew-berries,
Nor let the bettle, nor the death moth be
Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl
A partner in your sorrow’s mysteries.

Speaking of owls and yew trees, the Pacific yew is the habitat of the northern spotted owl, that little bird seen as the bane of loggers since logging was forbidden in areas where this endangered creature lived. Later it was discovered that the bark of the Pacific yew was a good source for taxol, a compound proved effective in combating cancer. The Pacific yews became as endangered as the owls until scientists learned they could synthesize the compound from the leaves. .

In Japan the yew tree (taxus cuspidate) is connected with the creator gods who live on mountain tops and is called ichii, the Tree of God. In the country of Georgia, the yew is called the Tree of Life.

References:
Chetan, Anand and Diana Brueton, The Sacred Yew, Penguin/Arkana 1994
Graves, Robert, The White Goddess
Pakenham, Thomas, Meetings with Remarkable Trees, Random House
Hageneder, Fred, The Meaning of Trees, Chronicle 2005
Fred’s website
http://www.spirit-of-trees.net/
Murray, Colin and Liz, Celtic Tree Oracle,
Simon, Francisco Marco, “According to Religion and Religious Practices of the Ancient Celts of the Iberian Peninsula,”
http://www.uwm.edu/Dept/celtic/ekeltoi/volumes/vol6/6_6/marco_simon_6_6.html
Wikipedia article on yew:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taxus_baccata

Photograph of a Yew from the Ancient Yew Group which includes among its members Fred Hageneder
http://www.ancient-yew.org/home.shtml

Thursday, December 21, 2006

Hallowtide Berries

I'm reviving my blog after its long hibernation while I participated in National Novel Writing month for the fifth year in a row. I've never yet completed the 50,000 words (I got closest the first year when I wrote 45,000) but I did write 25,000 words and ended up with a detailed plot outline for my detective novel.

Meanwhile I've been thinking about a new structure for the blog. Although I love the idea of focusing on a plant each day, it's too much for me. I end up doing some rather superficial research and just dump a whole lot of raw writing onto the page. It's often days after I write about a plant before I find a representative or get a chance to try it out in a recipe.

So I've decided to feature a plant a week, rather than a plant a day. I'm partly inspired by noticing that Susun Weed has a new correspondence course featuring 52 herbs. Here's the link if you want to check it out:
http://www.susunweed.com/Correspondence-Course-ABC.htm

I started thinking about what plants I wanted to feature and realized I could choose whole categories of plants based on seasonality. Lately I've been really noticing and appreciating the berries in my neighborhood and I decided that's a good focus for Hallowtide, the six weeks between Halloween and Yule.

But I've been having a hard time finding sources to help me identify the berries in my neighborhood. The only site that listed some berries native to the Northwest was the poison center for the local Children's Hospital. As I was reading this list, I thought about the paper I wrote in eighth grade on poisonous plants (I learned the word alkaloid while writing that paper) and wondered what the nuns made of that. Did they wonder what deeds I might be planning?Or just recognize a nascent witch?

The berries that speak of the season most vividly to me are Snowberries or Doll's Eyes. I always think of them when I plan my Winter Solstice party as I first saw them in a vase at the Lucia Party given by my mentor and friend, Helen Farias. For years I've been finding them in my neighborhood, down the block, under a tree beside an old mansion but last year they dug up those plants to install a stone wall. This year, I found them growing alongside the parking lot of the Greek Orthodox church in my neighborhood.

For a great photograph and description of snowberries, I'm going to refer you to my favorite garden writer on the web, Paghat:
http://www.paghat.com/berries5.html

During the six weeks between Winter Solstice and Candlemas, I'm going to feature evergreens, one a week, starting with the yew tree which has berries and is evergreen.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Barbary Squash

I was fascinated to see the pumpkin show up twice in the French Republican calendar during the month of October: once for Vendemiaire 13 (October 4 to us) under the name potiron, and again on Vendemiaire 17 (Oct 8) under the name citrouille.

According to one website I found,
http://www.theworldwidegourmet.com/vegetables/squash/pumpkin.htm
the potiron is Cucurbita moschata or the European pumpkin, which is described as having a tender, springy cylindrical stem, flared at the joining and orange-yellow or green flesh, while the Citrouille is Cucurbita pepo, the familiar Halloween pumpkin, with a hard smooth orange skin, dry, sweet yellow-orange flesh and a hard fibrous, five-sided stem and no bulge at the joining.

This website
http://www.pumpkinnook.com/howto/variety.htm
which has a really annoying moving pop-up, says that Cucurbita moschata is an oblong pumpkin with a tan skin and is mostly used for canned pumpkin.

But when I type in Cucurbita moschata into Google Image search I get lots of different kinds of squashes, including what I consider butternut squash. Here’s a Danish (?) web site with pictures of many different varieties of Cucurbita:
http://www.bennyskaktus.dk/Pumpkin-pictures_DK_01.htm
According to the pictures at Louie’s Pumpkin Patch, the genus Cucurbita moschata includes butternut and many other types of squashes including a green one called Musque de Provence. I just love that name.

There are also many great pictures of Cucurbita moschata at this web sit:
http://www.worldcrops.org/crops/Calabaza.cfm
at which they are called Calabaza.

All pumpkins are members of the Cucurbitaceae family which also includes cucumbers, zucchini, squash and gourds. DeWit says that pumpkins (Cucurbita pepo) were unknown in Europe until the sixteenth century and that they originated in southwestern North America. Europeans took the plant seeds back home along with seeds for Cucurbita maxima (autumn and winter squash) and the “mushy” Cucurbita moschata which he calls Barbary squash.

There’s a great entry on pumpkins in Plants for a Future:
http://www.pfaf.org/database/plants.php?Cucurbita+pepo
They mention medicinal uses of pumpkin seeds by Native Americans who used a flour made of ground seeds to expel tapeworms. The seeds are also high in zinc.

Of course, pumpkin is best known for making delicious food. I found some links for recipes calling for Potiron at the French food section of About.com
Be warned: this is one of those web sites with nasty pop-ups.
http://frenchfood.about.com/library/weekly/aa111102a.htm

deWit, H.C. D., Plants of the World, The Higher Plants I, Dutton 1966

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Maskal Daisies/Coreopsis


According to my holiday calendar,

http://www.schooloftheseasons.com/sept.html

in Ethiopia people celebrate Holy Cross on September 27 by building huge structures of logs, set up like teepees, decorated with yellow Maskal daisies and burnt at night. I found one web site which also refers to this festival and mentions the daisies:
http://my.ort.org.il/givatram/etiopia/TRGIL7.HTML

But what are they? A quick Google search produces only one reference to maskal daisies in a scientific paper called “Medicine in Ethiopia” by C. S. Leithead in which he says they are Coreopsis boraniana. I’ve not been able to find this species mentioned in any of the articles on Coreopsis but it seems likely that the daisies are Coreopsis which likes to grow in hot, dry climates and blooms through November, even in the soggy Northwest. The one thing that makes me wonder if this is the same plant is that most of my references say that Coreopsis is native to North America.

The name Coreopsis comes from the Greek word koris which means Bedbug because the seeds look like small black bugs. It’s also called Tickseed for the same reason. But the flowers look like cheerful yellow daisies, with toothed petals, and they are members of the Aster family. They are sometimes also called Calliopsis, according to Wikipedia.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tickseed
Askwith says that Calliopsis is the name for the annual form while Coreopsis applies to the perennial version of this plant.

Paghat, as usual, has some lovely photographs of Coreopsis growing in her Northwest garden and useful accounts of how it grows
http://www.paghat.com/coreopsis.html

Chelsie VandaVeer has written a poetic description of Coreopsis which is illustrated with a lovely photograph of the flowers of Coreopsis leavenworthii which grows in damp places in Florida::
http://www.killerplants.com/plant-of-the-week/20011001.asp
Her description of coming upon a field of golden Coreopsis echoes the description about the Ethiopian festival when “the meadows are yellow with the brilliant Maskal daisy.”

References:
Askwith, Herbert, editor, The Complete Guide to Garden Flowers: An Encyclopedia of Garden Planning, A.S. Barnes and Company 1961
Levine, Donald, Wax and Gold: Tradition and Innovation in Ethiopian Culture, University of Chicago Press, 1965, p. 62
Perl, Lilia, Ethiopia: Land of the Lion, William Morrow 1972, pp.72-3

Photograph:
Coreopsis lanceolata from J.S. Peterson @ USDA-NRCS PLANTS Database

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Dock


Since this is a day in the French Republican calendar that ends in a 5, the 5th of Vendimiare to be exact, there is an animal rather than a plant for today: the horse.

So I’m going to take my plant of the day from Flora’s Dial which lists the Dock as the flower for September 26. This seems appropriate as the dock in my neighborhood has reached a glorious stage of rusty redness. In my neighborhood, it grows in vacant lots and untended parkways and is considered a weed. But the roots have been used in medicine and the leaves consumed for centuries.

Dock is the common name for a plant (Rumex) in the Buckwheat family., which also contains buckwheat, sorrel and rhubarb. The name Rumex comes from the Latin for “to suck,” because the leaves of the plant were eaten to relieve thirst, according to Silverman. Mrs. Grieve says the plants were originally members of the Lapathum genus, from the Greek word meaning to cleanse. The name dock comes from the Anglo-Saxon docce.
Look at the Wikipedia article on dock for a staggering list of varieties:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rumex

Docks generally grow three to four feet tall. Flowers bloom on spikes at least twelve inches tall from June through September in the eastern United States, according to Silverman. These spikes become rusty brown in the autumn. Silverman recommends looking at the flowers and seeds of Dock through a magnifying glass. She writes: “Each tiny flower dangles on a short stalk as thin and fragile as a thread. As the seed develops, the calyx, resembling a frilly miniature bonnet, encloses the seed much as an old-fashioned bonnet enclosed a person’s head.”

Paghat in one of her wonderful garden articles describes the conditions under which she grows Bloody Dock in the Northwest:
http://www.paghat.com/rumex.html
Paghat also grows Western Dock (Rumex occidentalis)::
http://www.paghat.com/westerndock.html

Eating Dock
Round-Leaved Dock (Rumex obtusifolius) was sometimes called Butter Dock because the broad leaves were used to wrap butter. Dock leaves have a sour or lemony flavor because of the presence of oxalic acid. Paghat uses the young leaves like chard or spinach. Silverman quotes Julia Morton in saying that dock is a favorite pot herb in the Southern United States, preferred over collard and turnip greens.Because oxalic acide can interfere with the absorption of minerals, it should not be eaten in large quantities or by people with rheumatism, arthritis, gout or kidney stones.

The oxalic acid is neutralized when cooked. Paghat recommends frying dock leaves in oil with dandelion leaves. The stems can be used as a substitute for rhubarb (to which it is closely related) and the seeds can be ground like buckwheat and used to make flour.

Healing with Dock
Perhaps because of the reddish color of the stems (and the veins in the leaves of Bloody Dock), dock was recommended for treating blood diseases and jaundice.

According to Paghat, Native Americans used Western Dock to treat rheumatism by steaming with it in a sweat lodge. Roots and leaves were roasted and mashed then applied as a poultice to treat wounds and sores. According to Silverman, the Pennsylvania Dutch made a tea from the root and drank it as a tonic and to treat liver problems. Dock was also an ingredient in a tenth-century Anglo-Saxon recipe for treating people afflicted with Elf Disease.

Dock leaves are often been recommended as a great way to relieve the sting of nettles, and fortunately, they often grow near each other. There is a little rhyme to say when applying it a nettle sting:
Nettle in, Dock out,
Dock in, Nettle out
Nettle in, Dock out,
Dock rub Nettle out

Chelsie Vandaveer in her article, “What was Green Sauce?” describes a herbal remedy, recommended by Gerard, the Elizabethan herbalist, made from dock or sorrel, vinegar and sugar, and used to soothe the stomach, quench thirst and cool a fever.
http://www.killerplants.com/herbal-folklore/20030602.asp

Mrs. Grieve says that Rumex Crispus (so named for the curliness of its leaves) is the one most often used medicinally.
http://botanical.com/botanical/mgmh/d/docks-15.html
The leaves should be dug up in spring. She suggests making a syrup by boiling ½ pound of crushed root in a pint of syrup and then taking this by the teaspoon. Alternatively, you can make an infusion by pouring boiling water over 1 ounce of the powdered root and taking this by the wineglassful. She also recommends a homeopathic remedy, made of the plant before it flowers, which is effective in treating tickling coughs. Michael Moore uses dock to treat sluggish digestion or constipation.

Other Uses:
The seedheads are attractive in dried flower arrangements and a yellow-gold to tan dye can be made from the roots. Silverman recommends leaving the seedheads on the plant as food for the birds during the winter (they do look like those long spikes of millet you buy in the store, except these are rusty red).

Plants of the Future has articles specific to many different varieties of dock:
http://www.pfaf.org/database/plants.php?Rumex+occidentalis

The great photograph of Rumex Crispus under a stormy Northwest sky was taken by Ronald Taylor for his book, Northwest Weeds.

References:
deWit, H.C. D., Plants of the World, The Higher Plants I, Dutton 1966
Moore, Michael, Medicinal Plants of the Pacific West, Red Crane Books 1993
Silverman, Maida, A City Herbal: Lore, Legend and Uses of Common Weeds, Ash Tree Publishing 1997
Taylor, Ronald J., Northwest Weeds, Mountain Press Publishing Company 1990

Monday, September 25, 2006

Autumn Crocus


The plant of the day for Vendemiaire 4 in the French Republican calendar is the autumn crocus or colchique. This is a plant I mentioned briefly in my article on naked ladies (amaryllis belladonna) in honor of my birthday on September 4.

The autumn crocus (colchicum autumnale) is also sometimes known as a naked lady because it has the same quality as the amaryllis belladonna of arising from the ground without any leaves. And although the amaryllis belladonna blooms on my birthday in Southern California where I was born (Burbank, to be exact), the autumn crocus blooms on my birthday here in Seattle where I live now. The autumn crocus is also known as meadow saffron and colchicum.

I really wouldn’t have known much about this plant, as it is not mentioned in any of my garden books, except that I did quite a bit of research (which I didn’t post) a few days ago on saffron which was the plant of the day for Vendemiaire 2. The saffron crocus (crocus sativa) is a member of the Iris family while the autumn crocus is a member of the Lily family. They look alike and bloom at the same time but the saffron crocus is highly valued as a spice while the autumn crocus is deadly.

The two websites I recommend for information on saffron, Gernot Katzer’s spice web site:
http://www.uni-graz.at/~katzer/engl/Croc_sat.html
and Paghat’s article on the many myths that swirl around the saffron crocus:
http://www.paghat.com/saffronmyth.html
both briefly mention the autumn crocus.

The autumn crocus grows from corms and puts forth long slender green leaves in the spring that can be mistaken for wild onions or garlic (which can be a fatal mistake—see below). It produces its fruit, a green pod in the center of the leaves, in spring. It blooms in autumn, coming directly out of the ground without any leaves. The flowers are pink and fragile, almost ghostly on their long tubular stems. Paghat in her interesting article suggests that the crocus was associated with Persephone and that they might mark the spot where she descended into the Underworld in fall just as they mark her emergence in spring. Chelsie VandaVeer in her article “What Plant was Named for the Homeland of a Sorceress,”
http://www.killerplants.com/whats-in-a-name/20020111.asp
says the autumn crocus was once called “mysteria,” possibly because they were used in the Eleusinian Mysteries. It’s hard to know if the flower she describes is the saffron crocus or the autumn crocus.

The genus name, colchicum, was given to it by Linneaus after Colchis, an ancient region on the Black Sea, south of the Caucausus Mountains. Jason of Greek legend went there looking for the Golden Fleece and met up with Medea, a famous sorceress and poisoner. She made an ointment for him to rub on his limbs, shield and spear which enabled him yoke two fire-breathing bulls. The autumn crocus was said to have sprung up from the blood of the crucified Prometheus.

The plant is highly toxic, with an effect similar to arsenic poisoning according to this website:
http://biotech.icmb.utexas.edu/botany/acrohst.html
This case study describes the death of an older man who ate autumn crocus believing it to be wild garlic and died three days later:
http://ccforum.com/content/8/1/R56

Yet the active alkaloid, colchicine, has been used to treat gout, and also as an anti-cancer treatment. Chelsie VandaVeer has an article, “What ancient medical treatment is still being used today?” explaining how this works:
http://www.killerplants.com/plants-that-changed-history/20020108.asp

Wikipedia has a very short article on the autumn crocus
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Autumn_crocus

The glorious photograph comes from Wikipedia.

Saturday, September 23, 2006

Grape


The start of autumn equinox and the start of the month of Vendemiaire (the harvest) in the French Republican Calendar rightfully features the grape.

I grew up under a grapevine. When my parents moved into their new ranch house in Van Nuys, California, they had only a square concrete patio outside the brand new picture window of the living room. I was born about nine months later and pretty soon after that my father built a trellis over the patio and planted a grape vine. When I was young, I remember sitting under that leafy green shade; I also remember the purple stains the grapes made when they dropped on the patio. My mother probably protested about this and eventually the grapevine disappeared to be replaced by that corrugated green plastic which was so popular then.

I don’t remember that we ever made anything out of the grapes we grew but my Uncle Bob, in his back yard in Temple City, grew many plants which he made into wine. Whether this was just natural thriftiness (no plant shall go unused) or a fondness for fermented beverages, I’m not sure, but I suspect the former as Uncle Bob was Swiss (almost as thrifty as the Scotch) and the wine was not so attractive that one could guzzle it (I remember finding it quite repulsive as a child when offered a sip at Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner).

Still I believe I was at born at the tail end of these two trends: the growing of grapevines in home gardens (I’ve only seen two in the years since then—one is at my P-Patch garden but it’s purely decorative) and home wine-making. In the intervening years, the growing of grape vines and the making of wine have become big business.

In the past few years I got interested in wine and began studying it pretty seriously. It was my last passion before this new obsession with plants. I found many wine writers whose writing I admire, particularly Jay McInerney whose columns on wine for House and Garden are collected in a wonderful book of essays, Bacchus and Me, Jancis Robinson, one of the first female wine writers, and a true poet of wine, Terry Theise, who writes about German wines, mostly Reislings--his lyrical writing is available on the web at:
http://www.skurnikwines.com/msw/terry_theise.html

I’ve also attended many wine tastings and classes (I just love the vocabulary and ritual of wine) and read many books about the wine-making process. My favorites include A Cultivated Life by Joy Sterling about her family’s winery, and A Very Good Year by Mike Weiss, a journalist’s (somewhat cynical) view of the process by which a Las Vegas casino owner creates his own winery and a wine designed to win accolades.

But not until last year did it really sink in that wine is made from grapes. I was at my local Whole Foods and noticed a grape variety that I knew only as a wine varietal—I think it was probably Muscat of Alexandria. I took one bite and was amazed to recognize the flavor. The journey from grape to wine is such a complex and interesting one. I don’t believe there is any fruit that is so cosseted, processed, praised and transformed as the grape. And, of course, there is the magic of it all--the transformation mystery of harvest.

Here’s a web site that lists all the varieties of grapes used in making wine and shows pictures of most of them:
http://www.cookeryonline.com/mealexperience/Grapes/Index.htm

Wikipedia
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grape
(citing the Food and Agriculture Organization) reports that 71% of all grapes grown in the world are used to make wine. 27% are eaten as fresh fruit and 2% as dried fruit—raisin is just the French word for grape. Some grapes are used to make grape juice and sweeteners. Also the area dedicated to vineyards is increasing by about 2% every year.

This seems to be true where I live. Over the last few years several wineries have opened in Seattle itself, although the grapes they use are grown in eastern Washington. And every time I go to my favorite wine-growing region of Washington, the Klickitat, there are a few more wineries and lots more vineyards. Cascade Cliffs is one of my favorites:
http://www.cascadecliffs.com/page.aspx
Bob Lorkowski, who I first met when he was delivering wine to a customer on my block, grows Italian varieties which I enjoy, like Nebbiolo and Barbera.

I am still trying to take after my Uncle Bob and make wine from fruit that is closer at hand. But I have not yet succeeded in making anything drinkable.

If you want some recipes for making wine from a variety of fruits (and even vegetables and herbs), check out Jack Keller’s comprehensive web site:
http://www.cascadecliffs.com/page.aspx

The Vine is one of the trees (plants) featured in the Celtic tree calendar which Robert Graves proposed. It rules the month of August and has the power of prophecy, perhaps referring to the power of wine to inspire truth-telling (in vino veritas). Dionysus is the Greek god of the vine. But he was originally god of vegetation, ruling fruit trees and grapes. He supposedly traveled throughout Asida Minor, Egypt and India, spreding the use of the vine. The Roman goddess Venus was also associated with the vineyard, in her role as keeper of gardens and tilled fields.

References:
Funk & Wagnalls Standard Dictionary of Folklore, Mythology and Legend, edited by Maria Leach, Harper and Row 1971
Murray, Liz and Colin, The Celtic Tree Oracle: A System of Divination, illustrated by Vanessa Card, St. Martins 1988

Illustration
Crimson Seedless grapes taken by Bob Nichols. USDA Image Number K7721-3.

Thursday, September 21, 2006

stone roses

One of the things I love about this blog is the way it wakes me up to plants.

I wrote about sedums and then I drove my car to work (yes! shocking--one of the main reasons I took this job, besides the money and the mission statement of the organization (it's a writing center) is that it's within walking distance of my house). So it wasn't until this morning, when I walked my daughter's chihuahua, Pepe, around the block that I noticed all the sedums in my neighborhood. These plants have been here for years and I just noticed them today.

My favorites were the sempervivums, which were the members of the Crassulacaeae family that I didn't feature in yesterday's articles. Some of them go by the name of hen and chicks and I think that's what I saw this morning. Paghat, as usual, has a wonderful article on them:
http://www.paghat.com/sempervivumfuego.html

One of their other common names is "stone rose" and that's exactly what they look like. I love the idea of these growing all over the stone windowsills and slate roofs of old houses. I also saw some love links (these are members of the sedum family, which I recognized from Paghat's site:
http://www.paghat.com/sedumrupestra.html

Hope you find some sedums in your life.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Sedum (Stonecrop)


How bright atop the wall
The stonecrop's fire.
Robert Nichols (1893-1944)

On Sunday, I went to the Library Book Sale—I always go on half price day. Not that I need more books. I have ten nine-foot shelves of books, plus two huge bookcases, both of which hold about 200 books each and a bunch of brick and board shelves in the hall that hold my art books. I also have a table piled high with books and folders that has become my Flower of the Day headquarters. But I can’t resist half-price day at the book sale: paperbacks for a quarter, hardbacks for 50 cents.

Most of the books I bought were old gardening books. Each one had a different way of categorizing plants: one shows them by families, one by their country of origin, one by the seasons in which they flourish and another alphabetically by common name.

The one that organized plants by season is my favorite and it corresponds with many of the plants I saw on a tour of my friend Dan’s garden during his birthday party this weekend. I asked about a plant that I thought was a houseleek but everyone else knew it as stonecrop or sedum. In fact, the specimen in question, I believe is Sedum telephium, Autumn Joy which seems like a good plant to feature as we approach the equinox.

The sedums are members of the Crassulaceae family, from a Latin root word which means “thick or dense,” the same root which gives us Crass. (The plant I know as the houseleek comes from another genera in this family, the sempervivum). They come from subtropical Africa, the Mediterranean and temperate parts of Asia. The name sedum comes from Latin, meaning to sit, because they tend to creep along, low to the ground. Most of the members of this family are succulents: they like to live on rocks and mountains, hence the common name stone crop. When more people lived in stone houses, these plants often grew on slates roofs and even windowsills, as in these lines from a poem by Wordsworth:
The yellow stone-crop suffered to take root
Along the window's edge, profusely grew,
Blinding the lower panes.

There are many different kinds of sedums. My favorite garden writer, Paghat, has many wonderful articles on some of these varieties. I’ll summarize some of her comments in case you don’t want to click on all the links but then you’ll miss her gorgeous photos.

Sedum acre is called golden stonecrop or yellow wall pepper. It has yellow flowers and a peppery fragrance when crushed. Paghat lists many other names for it including Biting Stonecrop, Prick Madam, Wall Ginger, Mousetail, Bird's Bread, Jack-of-the-Buttery, Golden Carpet, Gold Chain, Small Houseleek, Mossy Stonecrop, & Creeping Tom. In England apparently it blooms in June and July so I might have to move it up in the flower calendar.
http://www.paghat.com/sedum_goldmoss.html

Sedum telephium is sometimes called orpine, midsummers men, long life or everlasting. I believe this is the plant that’s growing in my friend Dan’s garden. Mrs. Grieve says the species name comes from Telephus, the son of Hercules, who discovered its virtues.
http://botanical.com/botanical/mgmh/s/stonec91.html
It is taller than other sedums and has pink flowers. At midsummer in England it’s used in love divinations: two orpines are laid side by side and if they twine towards each other, that augurs well for the relationship.

Sedum sarmentosum is a stonecrop from Asia which is sometimes called Graveyard Moss because of the way it grows in old graveyards. It is also called Stringy or Trailing Stonecrop, because of the way it grows and Yellow Moss, Star Sedum or Gold Moss because of its yellow flowers.
http://www.paghat.com/sedumstringy.htm

The succulent leaves of sedums are edible. They can be added to salads to give them spice (they have a peppery flavor), fried with other vegetables or added to soup. The sedums with yellow flowers have mild toxicity, but when fried, they lose their toxicity. Paghat offers this recipe for a relish: fry sedum leaves with slivers of sweet bell peppers and onions at a high heat in olive oil until the onions are browned and bell peppers nearly translucent, then add pepper to taste and use as a relish on hotdogs or gardenburgers. Refrigerate for use as needed. Stonecrops with red flowers are fine to eat.

Sedums also have medicinal qualities. Mrs. Grieve writes that the leaves of White Stonecrop were often used in a soothing application for hemmorhoids while Biting Stonecrop taken internally got rid of worms. Sedum telephium is used as a remedy for diarrhea when the leaves are boiled in milk and taken three or four times a day: this is also good for the kidneys, piles and hemorrhages.

Paghat writes that Sedum acre (known by the name helluhnori) was recommended in a 1770 Icelandic herbal as a cure for jaundice, gallstones and respiratory illness. In China, Japan & Korea, sedum is sold as a medicinal herb under the name Chuipengcao or Chui pen cao. It is used as a general gastric & renal regulator. Sedum is a known source of herbal estrogen.

Here’s a great article on growing sedum in Texas:
http://home.att.net/~larvalbugbio/sedum.html

Reference (one of my new old books):
deWit, H.C.D., Plants of the World: The Higher Plants I, Dutton 1966

Illustration found at Wikipedia:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Sedum_telephium_(Autumn_Joy)_in_bloom.jpg

Saturday, September 16, 2006

Chestnuts


Missed posting my entry last night because I didn’t have access to the Internet. Not sure whether this is a problem with AOL or with my cable service provider Comcast. It’s happened three times in September so I need to do some detective work.

September 15 is the day of the chestnut in the French Republican calendar, and I did a bit of preliminary research. The chestnut in question is the sweet chestnut which is Castanea sativa. Sometimes known as the Spanish chestnut. There is also an American chestnut, Castanea dentata, which has been decimated by the chestnut blight. The name Catasnea comes from Catanis, a town in Thessaly (Greece) which was known for its chestnut trees. The ancient Greek name for the nut was Sardis glans, from the town in Turkey (the capital of Lydia) where the tree first grew. It’s a member of the Fagaceae or Beech family.

There is a famous chestnut tree in Sicily, known as the Tree of One Hundred Horses, under which Queen Joan of Aragon and her cavaliers sheltered during a storm in 1308. There is also an ancient chestnut tree in England which is said to have been planted in the time of King Egbert (800), although believes it probably dates from around 1100. The chestnut was probably brought to England by the Romans who ate the nuts. These old trees are magnificent, with trunks of quite impressive girth.

Of course the nuts are a great part of the appeal of the chestnut. To roast chestnuts,
Take a very sharp, small knife, and slit the chestnuts around the sides or slash with an X on the flat side. The slash should extend completely through the hard shell and the inner lining surrounding the meat. Place X-side up on a well-oiled cookie sheet and set in a pre-heated 400 oven. Bake until the shell pulls away from the tender inside, about 30 minutes. Roasted chestnuts are known as marrons glace in France. Marron is also the name of the free

The Wikipedia article says that if you want to preserve chestnuts through the winter you should cover them with sand. Any maggots in the chestnuts will work their way up through the sand to get air without disturbing any other chestnuts.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chestnut

Roberta Sickler in her marvelous book, Rituals of the Hearth, provides the instructions above plus this recipe for Buttered Brussels Sprouts and Chestnuts:

1 lb chestnuts, roasted & peeled
1 lb small Brussels sprouts
4 T butter
1-1/2 t sugar
1/4 t paprika
salt

Scrub the Brussels sprouts and drop them, still dripping, into a dry, heavy enamel pot. Add butter, put the pot over a low flame and roast until the sprouts turn golden-green, about 30 minutes. Add the sugar, paprika and roasted chestnuts and toss lightly to coat with butter. Sprinkle with salt and serve.

Mrs.Grieve provides this recipe for chestnut soup:
Scald, peel and scrape 50 large chestnuts; put these into a stewpan with 2 OZ. of butter, an onion, 4 lumps of sugar, and a little pepper and salt, and simmer the whole over a slow fire for three-quarters of an hour; then bruise the chestnuts in a mortar; remove the pulp into a stewpan, add a quart of good brown gravy, and having rubbed the purée through a Tammy, pour it into a stewpan; make it hot and serve with fried crusts.
http://www.botanical.com/botanical/mgmh/c/cheswe59.html

For many more chestnut recipes, see this web site
http://www.chestnutsonline.com/recipes.htm

Roasted chestnuts are also ground into flour and used to make bread and a coffee-like drink. They are rich in vitamins and minerals, complex carbohydrates and starch but lower in fat than other nuts. The Tsalagi (Cherokee) and Iroquois tribes used the nuts to make cakes, breads, gravies, soups and drinks.

The tree is often coppiced, that is, cut down to the stem to grow many small stems which are split to produce fencing material or fed to cattle and sheep. Although chestnut wood is of good quality, it grows in the same climates as oak, and oak is preferable as timber. In Italy, the wood is used for small items like fencing and shingles and also barrels for aging balsamic vinegar.

Sweet chestnut leaves are sometimes used as food wraps. They also regulate the ripening process of soft cheese, although I only found one cheese on a quick Google search (St. Marcellin) that was wrapped in chestnut leaves.

Sweet chestnut leaf infusions are said to relieve coughs, including coughs due to whooping cough and bronchitis. They have astringent and antibacterial properties that mean they help heal wounds when used as poultices. The Bach Flower Remedy made from Sweet Chestnut is recommended for extreme mental anguish.

In Greece, chestnuts, like walnuts, were called the acorns of Zeus. In Christian symbolism, they represent triumph over temptation, chastity and goodness. Hageneder says it is common practice in Southern France to put pictures of the saints in sweet chestnut trees. He also writes that in ancient China, these trees were the homes of the gods of the west.

References:
Hageneder, Fred, The Meaning of Trees, Chronicle 2005
Mitchell, Alan and John Wilkinson, The Trees of Britain and Northern Europe, William Collins Sons and Company 1982
Pakenham, Thomas, Meetings with Remarkable Trees, Random House 1998

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Maize/Corn


It’s a bit overwhelming to contemplate writing about the plant of the day for Fructidor 28: maize or corn. So I’ll refer you to the excellent Wikipedia article on the subject:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maize

The Latin name for corn is Zea mays, a name devised by Linnaeus based on the name for the plant told to Columbus by the Tahino people in 1492. Their name meant “the mother of all.” Maize is known was called Centli in Nahautl (Aztec), Ixim to the Maya and Rxoa for the Zapotecs. We call it corn in English because corn is the generic name for all grains.
http://maize.agron.iastate.edu/name.html


Maize was first domesticated about 9,000 years ago in central Mexico. The wild plant, teosinte, from which maize may be derived, is native to the Balsas River area of southern Mexico. Like wheat, corn developed along with humans and could not survive in the wild. The earliest corn cobs found in archaelogical digs in the Oaxaca Valley date back 6,250 years.

In the Mayan account of the creation of the world, humans were made out of maize dough. The plant was revered as the source of life. An archaeologist, William Saturno, in 2003, uncovered a mural from before AD 100 showing the corn god and a woman with tamales on the back of a mighty serpent, emerging from a mountain. Saturno speculates that this was an attempt to reproduce the creation myth.
http://magma.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/0312/resources_cre.html?fs=www7.nationalgeographic.com
This picture showing the corn god comes from this web site:
http://www.ancient-empires.com/corgodfig.html

Beginning around 1,500 BC, the cultivation of maize spread rapidly. It was the staple food of Central America, South America and the Caribbean. During the first millennium AD, it spread from Mexico up through Arizona into the Southwest and then Northeast of North America.

In the Southwest, maize was planted using the Three Sisters method of planting. Beans were planted to use the corn stalks as support and squash planted to keep weeds from growing underneath. Corn is planted in the spring and should be “knee-high by the Fourth of July.” There are many different types of maize. Some are grown for flour, others to be popped as popcorn and others to be eaten.

Maize is also made into alcohol: bourbon and chicha. Corn flour or cornmeal is used to make polenta, tortillas, grits and other dishes. Corn cobs have been used to make smoking pipes and also to make biofuel.

Corn is one of my favorite foods and one I consider a serious problem. Because I cannot stop eating it. Doesn’t matter what it is. Give me a bowl of popcorn (hopefully with lots of real butter) or a bag of corn chips or a package of red licorice (made of corn syrup) and I will be unable to stop eating them until they’re all gone. Is this addiction or an allergy?

Food
Corn did cause serious problems for people when it spread across the world because a steady diet of mainly corn will produce malnutrition, due to lack of niacin.

Chelsie VandaVeer explains this well in her article on pellagra at:
http://www.killerplants.com/plants-that-changed-history/20040224.asp

Corn must be eaten with lime (which the Mexicans use to create tortillas), or alkali (in the form of ashes used by Native Americans), or protein sources like beans, chia, fish or meat, in order to acquire the complete range of amino acids necessary to for protein synthesis.

Here’s an article on how to make an authentic tortilla, which notes that the apprenticeship is long:
http://www.public.iastate.edu/~rjsalvad/scmfaq/tortilla.html

This article explains how the Chippewa made hominy using lye and cornmeal:
http://www.ncis.net/brnews/2001/jan2001/cooking.htm

Medicine
Mrs. Grieve recommends using corn silk as a treatment for cystitis and other bladder irritations. She also recommends corn mush as a diet for the invalid.
http://botanical.com/botanical/mgmh/c/corsi105.html

Holidays
Chelsie VandaVeer writes about the festivals held by Native Americans in honor of the new corn in this article:
http://www.killerplants.com/herbal-folklore/20010827.asp
In another article on corn, she explains the origin of the term, “crackers,” for the hill people of the South, attributing it to their penchant for “cracked” corn.
http://www.killerplants.com/plants-that-changed-history/20040427.asp

Other
A recent fad involves creating mazes out of maize, in somewhat the same way yew mazes were popular in the 19th century. Corn grows faster and is tall enough in one season to befuddle the wanderer. This web site provides a list of maize mazes:
http://www.cornfieldmaze.com/site_list.html

I missed this landmark when I was traveling in South Dakota, but here’s a link to the Mitchell Corn Palace:
http://www.travelsd.com/travelspecials/partners/?id=30
I found it on this great list of corn links;
http://maize.agron.iastate.edu/general.html

References:
Salvador, Ricardo, “Maize,” adaptation of an article originally published in The Encyclopedia of Mexico: History, Culture and Society, Fitzroy Dearborn Publishers 1997: http://maize.agron.iastate.edu/maizearticle.html

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Bitter Orange


The plant for Fructidor 26 in the French Republican calendar is bigarade, bitter orange.

One of the great joys of this Plant of the Day blog is learning about plants that would never otherwise come to my attention and this is certainly the case today as I had no idea what a bitter orange was.

This Wikipedia article provides a great introduction:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bitter_orange
The species name is citrus aurantium, subspecies amara (which means bitter). It’s native to South Vietnam but is grown in Central and South America (particularly the West Indies and Brazil) and in Mediterranean countries, especially Sicily and Southern France.

According to this perfume web site, it was imported from China into India, Syria and Egypt and brought to Europe by the Crusaders. One of the most famous bitter orange trees grows in the garden of the convent of St Sabina in Rome:
http://www.osmoz.com/encyclo/matieres_fiche.asp?CATEGORIE=MATPREM&LANGUE=en&ID=123

It is also sometime known as the Seville orange. The tree has glossy leaves, wicked thorns and small orange fruits that are bitter tasting. See the comments at Dave’s Garden:
http://www.mavrommatis.gr/modules.php?name=News&file=article77

This academic article also contains some information about the plant:
http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_qa4091/is_200403/ai_n9368492/pg_1

The tree is often used as grafting stock for other citrus fruit. The flowers when distilled produce neroli essential oil and a hydrosol known as orange flower water. An oil made from the leaves and shoots is called petit grain. The fruit, though bitter, has more pectin than sweet oranges, and thus makes a great marmalade. The peels are used to make the liqueur Curacao (named after the island on which the bitter oranges grow) and to flavor Triple Sec.

The Bergamot orange, which produces the famous bergamot oil, used in perfume and tea is a variety of citrus aurantium. So is chinotto, citrus aurantium, myrtifolia, the myrtle-leaved orange tree native to Italy. And China has its own citrus aurantium, varieity dadai, the fruits of which are used in Chinese medicine and to celebrate Japanese new year (in much the way Westerners put oranges in Christmas stockings, as symbols of wealth and the sun).

Food
Here’s a recipe for bitter orange marmalade from Greece:
http://www.mavrommatis.gr/modules.php?name=News&file=article77

And here’s a recipe for crispy duck salad with bitter orange vinaigrette from Rachel Ray:
http://www.foodnetwork.com/food/recipes/recipe/0,1977,FOOD_9936_26823,00.html

According to Mrs. Grieve, in Grasse the blossoms are candied. Doesn’t that sound delicious?

Mandy Aftel says that orange blossom oil can be purchased in most Middle Eastern stores. It should be used with butter or cream to reinforce its flavor. She recommends adding a few drops of neroli oil to a sorbet. Or mixing orange flower water with honey and drizzling it over yogurt or splashing it on apples before baking them in an apple pie.

Medicinal Properties
This website lists an interesting number of medicinal uses from around the world:
http://www.rain-tree.com/orange.htm
The primary use seems to be as an aid in digestion, as seen in the summary at Plants for a Future:
http://www.pfaf.org/database/plants.php?Citrus+aurantium

Mr.s Grieve, surprisingly, has little to say about it as a medicine, except to warn against imbibing wine of bitter orange mixed with absinthe.
http://www.botanical.com/botanical/mgmh/o/oraswe12.html

In America, it was marketed as an appetite suppressant after ephedrime was taken off the market. But because it contains synephrine, a stimulant similar to ephedrine, it can be dangerous.

References:
Aftel, Mandy and Daniel Patterson, Aroma: The Magic of Essential Oils in Food and Fragrance, Artisan (Workman) 2004

Monday, September 11, 2006

Morning Glory

Last year at this time I invited the readers of my newsletter
http://www.schooloftheseasons.com/newletters/news090505.html
to submit nominations for birthday flowers and Samantha of Long Island nominated the blue morning glory in honor of her birthday on September 11. She wrote:

On Long Island, the skies turn this color from just before my birthday to the end of October. The blue morning glory always blooms…just around the week of my birthday, although the rosy red and purple ones blossom from July onwards….Clear sky blue, morning glory blue, the color of truth and peace, is a good and fitting remembrance for 9/11.

I found the most useful information about the morning glory at Wikipedia:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Morning_Glory_%28Flower%29
The morning glory is a member of the Convolvulaceae family (from the Latin word convolvo, meaning to twine around, which is the way it grows). The family has many genera, and the blue morning glory is Ipomoea indica.

The sweet potato is also an Ipomoea (I. batatas) and learning that reminded me that when I was in college we used to grow sweet potato vines (cheap indoor house plants) by suspending a sweet potato half-in and out of water (by sticking toothpicks in its middle). The resulting purplish colored vine grew up and over one of our windows.

The morning glory has a funnel-shaped flower that opens at morning, from whence it gets its name. The flowers begin to curl up in a few hours and die by the afternoon. In Japan is is known as asagao (morning face).

We don’t seem to have those sky blue morning glories here in Seattle although I remember them vividly from my Southern California childhood. Instead we have what Paghat calls the Odious Bindweed (Convolvolus arvenis), which has been blooming for some months now:
http://www.paghat.com/morningglory.html
I am alone of all the gardeners I know in appreciating this plant (but it hasn’t invaded my P-patch garden). I pull it up in long strings and use it to wrap around the materials in the wreaths I make, thus producing a wreath composed of entirely organic items which can be burned in a summer solstice bonfire. Because the twining quality of this plant is so strong, it has both the wiry strength one wants in such an endeavor as well as the natural spiral.

The seeds of some species (Ipomoea violacea and Rivea corymbosa) contain LSD and the seeds, if eaten in sufficient quantity (100+) will produce similar effects. They were used by Aztec priests to commune with their gods. If you are interested in using them this way, you might get some useful information from this web site:
http://www.erowid.org/plants/morning_glory/morning_glory_faq.shtml
The plant was also used by the Aztecs to coagulate rubber latex to produce bouncing balls.

There is another form of morning glory, Ipomoea aquatica, sometimes called water morning glory, which is often eaten as a vegetable in Eastern and Southeast Asian cuisines:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ipomoea_aquatica

In the language of the flowers, the morning glory means coquetry, extinguished hopes or a busybody. The red morning glory means attachment.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Hop or Hops


The plant of the day for Fructidor 23 (Sep 9) was hop. But I chose to feature the chrysanthemum instead in honor of the Chinese Double Nine holiday on which the chrysanthemum is the featured flower. Still I didn’t want to skip hop, such an important plant for centuries. Besides it’s beautiful.

I’ve always hated beer but my attitude has shifted and I think it’s due to my Plant of the Day project. A few weeks ago my friend, Kim, was sipping a microbrew at a tavern and I caught a whiff of his beer. It smelled great and when I commented on it, he gave me a taste. It tasted great too. I could taste the herbs in it, which I’ve never tasted before in a beer. I woke up to the recognition that beer is simply another way to ingest plants, and one that really features aromatic herbs, like hop. (As far as I can tell, the plant is hop while the female flowers are hops.)

Did you know that hop is in the same family (the Cannabaceae) as Marijuana? This may be the reasons marijuana smokers were called “hopheads” but smoking hop does not produce intoxication. Humulus lupulus is the European variety and the one grown commercially. There is also a native American hop known as Humulus americanus which is found in wet canyons and streams from Nevada, Utah and Arizona eastwards.

Hop is a fibrous vine, similar to the native wild grape. It is grown commercially on 25-foot poles in hopyards. A network of wires is strung from pole to pole and more wires dangled to the ground. In early spring, the vines are trained up these wires, growing in clockwise spirals, sometimes as much as 6 to 12 inches in a single day. The biggest commercial growing regions are Bavaria, Germany and the Pacific Northwest, but up until the early twentieth century, Mrs.Grieve reports that 70% of the hop grown in England was grown at home.

Male and female flowers grow on separate plants but it’s the female flowers, which look like leafy, cone-like catkins, which are harvested in fall, usually in the third year after the plant is planted. They should be a light yellowish green color, have a full pleasant aroma and be slightly sticky. They should be dried in a cool oven immediately after harvest. Hops lose much of their flavor and medicinal value when stored so use them promptly, by making a tincture or adding it to beer. Michael Moore also uses the last whole yard of summer branches, dried and powdered to make a salve or dust on the skin as an antimicrobial.

If you’re interested in growing hop plants, here’s a website that provides some detailed information:
http://www.freshops.com/gardening.html

Hop is a beautiful plant and some varieties are grown just for decoration, like the Japanese variety, Humulus japonicus variegatus and a yellow leafed variety, Humulus lupulus aureus. The dried flower heads are also attractive. Rodales recommends adding them to wreaths and other dried arrangements.

Beer and Hop
Beer, of course, is made from fermented grains, like barley. But brewers have always added herbs to flavor beers, including marjoram, yarrow and wormwood. Around the 9th century, the Germans began adding hops because they liked the bitter flavor and it helped preserve the beer.

By the 14th century, most European beers contained hop. The English drank ale until 1500 when brewers, began adding hops, changing the sweet ale into bitter beer. Ale lovers complained and Henry VIII banned its use, but his son, Edward VI, rescinded the ban in 1552.

According to the Wikipedia article,
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hop_(plant)
the point at which hops are added to the beer influences the flavor and bitterness of the beer. The later in the process the less bitterness and the more hoppy aroma.

Mrs. Grieve in her Modern Herbal (1931) provides various recipes for herbal beers:
http://www.botanical.com/botanical/mgmh/h/hops--32.html
including this one for Hop Beer:
To make a good HOP BEER, put 2 OZ. Hops in 2 quarts of water for 15 minutes. Then strain and dissolve 1 lb. of sugar in the liquor. To this add 4 quarts of cold water and 2 tablespoonsful of fresh barm [active yeast]. Allow to stand for 12 hours in a warm place and it will then be ready for bottling.

Medicine
The plant has long been used, like other bitters, to stimulate the appetite and aid in digestion. It was prescribed for digestive problems and intestinal complaints by Greek and Roman physicians. The Chinese also used it as a digestive aid, and a treatment for leprosy, tuberculosis and dysentery. North American Indians used the native American hop as a sedative and sleep aid.

Castleman comments that hop farmers noticed that the plant had two effects on those who harvested it: it made them tired and it brought on women’s periods. Thus it became known as a sedative and menstruation promoter. Hop is frequently added to sleep pillows.

My daughter finds a very hoppy beer, like India Pale Ale, effective to soothe menstrual cramps. It’s far more effective for her than Midol or motherwort. This may be because hop has antispasmodic qualities. Some researchers also believe it contains chemicals similar to estrogen.

According to Castleman scientist have found two chemicals in hop (humulone and lupulone) that kill the bacteria that cause spoiling. They are also effective against tuberculosis bacteria, as recognized by the Chinese. And in 1983 a sedative chemical was discovered in the leaves--its concentration increases as the plant dries.

According to Funk & Wagnalls, in Bohemia, an oil of hops is used to fill cavities, while the Magyars mix privet and hops in wine for toothache.

Food
The Romans used to eat the young shoots of the hop plant before they matured. They were prepared like asparagus.

Other Uses
Like hemp, the fiber in a hop plant can be used to make cloth. And the flexible vines can be used to make baskets. The leaves and flower heads can also be used to produce a brown dye.

Folklore & Myth
Paghat has a wonderful article on hop (she grows the golden variety) in which she traces the name Humulus lupulus to the maenadic cults of Cybele and Dionysus.
http://www.paghat.com/hop.html

The species name lupulus means “little wolf,” perhaps because the plant strangles other plants as it climbs on them. It is also sometimes known as “willow wolf” since it loves to grow in the same moist soil where willows grow and will use their dangling branches for support, according to Chelsie VandaVeer’s article:
http://www.killerplants.com/whats-in-a-name/20030530.asp
This article also features an ad for hops which shows a wonderful shaggy vine growing on a ramshackle shed.

It was customary in the hopfields of Kent for anyone visiting for the first time to contribute “foot money” lest the luck leave the fields. In Chestertown Maryland, the hope vines are said to peep out of the ground at midnight on old Christmas (Jan 6). This would be the time of the year when they have died back to the roots. [F&W]

References:
Castleman, Michael, The Healing Herbs, Rodale 1991
Funk & Wagnalls Standard Dictionary of Folklore, Mythology and Legend, edited by Maria Leach, Harper and Row 1971
Moore, Michael, Medicinal Plants of the Pacific West, Red Crane Books 1993
Rodale’s Illustrated Encyclopedia of Herbs, edited by Claire Kowalchik and William H. Hylton, Rodale 1987

Saturday, September 09, 2006

Chrysanthemum


My eyes, having seen all,
Came back to
The white chrysanthemums
Issho

The Chinese consider the chrysanthemum the flower of autumn. It is a member of the compositae family, which includes daisies and sunflowers. They come in many different classes based on the characteristics of the flowers including pompon, quill, spider, brush, thistle, single, incurve and spoon. For examples of these various types, see this page from the National Chrysanthemum Society:
http://www.mums.org/journal/articles/classifications.htm

History
Confucius first wrote about chrysanthemums in 500 BC and until recently they were the flowers of the noble Chinese; commoners could not grow them in gardens. They are one of China’s “Four Most Graceful Plants,” the others being ume, orchid and bamboo. The Chinese have a saying: If you would be happy for a lifetime, grow chrysanthemums. They are associated with old age and wisdom.

According to the Feng Su Chi, the people living in the Li district of China live to be 120 and 130 years old because they drink water flavored with the chrysanthemums (Leach says asters) that grow on the banks of the spring. A legend tells about Keu Tze Tung who fled to the Valley of the Chrysanthemums, after offending an emperor. When he drank the dew from the petals he became immortal. Buddhists say he was given a text to write on the petals and it was this that gave the dew its power.

The chrysanthemum arrived in Japan by way of Korea in the fourth century. In Japan, the history of the chrysanthemum (kiku) has long been intertwined with feelings of national pride and obedience. The chrysanthemum became the national flower of Japan in 910 AD. The Japanese imperial coat of arms depicts a sixteen-petaled golden chrysanthemum.

The chrysanthemum made its debut in Europe in 1688. It was Linnaeus who named it the chrysanthemum, from the Greek words for golden flower. It did not become popular until Victorian times, after the Royal Horticultural Society sent Robert Fortune to China to obtain hardy autumn-flowering chrysanthemums.

Holiday
The chrysanthemum has its own holiday, Chrysanthemum Day, on the ninth day of the ninth month in the lunar calendar (which is sometimes called Chrysanthemum Month). This holiday is celebrated on September 9 in the solar calendar.

According to one legend, Fei Ch'ang-fang of the Han dynasty advised his follower to take his whole family to the hills on the 9th day of the 9th month. He advised him to make red bags for each member of the family and put a spray of dogwood inside which they would wear while they climbed, and they were to drink chrysanthemum wine at the top of the hill. They followed his instructions and when they returned home in the evening, they found all their domestic animals dead. Since then climbing the hills, wearing dogwood and drinking chrysanthemum wine became traditional activities on this day, as a way to avoid evil spirits and misfortune.

Other activities that are popular include sipping chrysanthemum wine and tea made from chrysanthemum petals, admiring the flowers in gardens and floral exhibitions, and honoring the flowers by painting them and writing poems in their honor.

A special chrysanthemum cake called Chung-Yang cake is eaten on this holiday. Because the Chinese words for cake and high sound the same, so one can eat a cake instead of going for a hike. It is a steamed cake made from flour and sugar, stuffed with chestnuts, pine nuts and other types of nut, and crowned with colorful paper flag. I couldn’t find a recipe for it online, except for a very fancy wedding cake from Martha Stewart, but there are lots of ads for chrysanthemum shaped bundt pans. Speaking of Martha, I love her chrysanthemum cupcakes:
http://www.marthastewart.com/page.jhtml?type=content&id=channel187245

Food and Drink
Chrysanthemum petals are edible. The Chinese make tea out of them which is said to be good for flu. Wikipedia has an article on chrysanthemum tea:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chrysanthemum_tea

Chrysanthemum petals can also be added to cream soups and salads. Martin suggests blanching the petals before using them, but not too long or they will become bitter. Here’s a recipe for sweet potatoes with chrysanthemum petals:
http://sidedish.allrecipes.com/az/63823.asp

The leaves of several species, including Coronation Chrysanthemums, are used as a leaf vegetable, often stir-fried with garlic and red chile peppers, according to the Wikipedia article on chrysanthemums:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chrysanthemum
You can find a recipe for chrysanthemum leaf salad (soogat moochim), here:
http://www.sweetbabymedia.com/recipes/allbynumber4/016660.shtml

Chrysanthemum wine is made on the Double Nine day but must be allowed to ferment for one year before it may be drunk on the following Double Ninth Day. It is said that drinking this fragrant spirit will cure a hundred sicknesses, bring longevity, and ward off evil spirits.
http://www.taiwaninfo.org/info/festival_c/99_e/html/drink.htm

Jack Keller provides a recipe for chrysanthemum wine on his wonderful wine-making web site. He notes that although the flower petals are edible, some people may have allergies to them (particularly asthma sufferers who sometimes have reactions to flowers in the compositae family) and that the sap sometimes causes dermatitis.
http://winemaking.jackkeller.net/request176.asp
For an easier version, simply drop chrysanthemum petals into the bottom of a glass of your favorite wine.

Symbolism
To the Chinese, the chrysanthemum represents rest and ease. To the Japanese, it is a sign of long life and happiness. In the Victorian language of flowers, it means cheerfulness and optimism. Jeanne Rose assigns meanings by colors with red meaning I love, white meaning truth and other colors meaning slighted love, basing it on an American floral list, Flora’s Dictionary by Elizabeth Washington Gamble Wirt. In China, the white flowers symbolize lament. In some European countries (Belgium, Austria and Italy), the chrysanthemum is the flower of death (as the marigold is in Mexico) and is only used in funerals. In the Japanese floral calendar, the chrysanthemum is the flower of September. In the English floral calendar it is the flower of November.

References
Elliott, Brent, An Illustrated History of the Garden Flower, Royal Horticultural Society 2001
Funk & Wagnalls Standard Dictionary of Folklore, Mythology and Legend, edited by Maria Leach, Harper and Row 1971
Martin, Laura, Garden Flower Folklore, Globe Pequot Press 1987
Seaton, Beverly, The Language of the Flowers: A History, University of Virginia Press 1995
Scoble, Gretchen and Ann Field, The Meaning of Herbs, Chronicle Books 2001
VandaVeer, Chelsie, “What is the Kiku?”
http://www.killerplants.com/whats-in-a-name/20021115.asp

Illustration:
Detail from a painting of a chrysanthemum indicum from One Hundred Chyrsanthemums by K Hasegawa (1891)
For more pictures see,
http://www.barclaygallery.com/hasegawa2.html

Friday, September 08, 2006

Hazelnut


And in this the Lord showed me something small, no bigger than a hazelnut, lying in the palm of my hand. . .In this little thing I saw three properties. The first is that God made it, the second is that God loves it, the third is that God preserves it.
Julian of Norwich

The plant of the day for Fructidor 21 is the hazelnut (or noisette in French).

Wikipedia has a good article on hazelnuts.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hazelnut

Here are a few things I learned from that article:
The hazel is a shrub, in the same family as the beeches (and it bears similar catkins). The genus name is Corylus and the species is avellana from the town of Avellino in Italy. Although people often confuse them, the filbert is a slightly different species, Corylus maxima.

It’s native to Europe and Asia and was often used in England for hedgerows. The wood is coppiced (cut down to the base to encourage new growth) and the new shoots were often used as material for woven fences and wattle-and-daub building construction. In North America, where the native hazel is Corylus Americana, the twigs were used to make baskets and as drumsticks (for the Chippewa and Ojibwa).

Hazelnuts are grown commercially in Europe, Turkey, China and Australia. In the United States, hazelnut production is concentrated in Oregon, particularly in the Willamette Valley, and in my own state of Washington (to my surprise).

Hazelnuts are used to make pralines, and combined with chocolate to make Nutella. There’s a hazelnut liqueur popular in Eastern Europe and hazelnut flavoring is one of the favorite additions to lattes. Toasted hazelnuts can be added to salads, or ground up and used as breading for fish or added to vegetable dishes. For many good hazelnut recipes to to the site of the Oregon Hazelnut Industry
http://oregonhazelnuts.org/recipes.htm

Or the Hazelnut Council
http://www.hazelnutcouncil.org/recipe/consumer.cfm

You could celebrate the day of the hazelnut with a hazelnut meal, starting with a hazelnut squash soup, continuing on to a hazelnut-crusted halibut recipe served with Mediterranean roasted vegetables, and finishing up with a hazelnut gelato.

The Oregon Hazelnut Industry website provides instructions on roasting hazelnuts.
To slow roast hazelnuts in an oven, “spread shelled nuts in a shallow baking pan and roast at 275 degrees for 20 to 30 minutes, until the skins crack and the meat turns light golden. Hazelnuts may also be roasted at higher temperatures. At 350 degrees, they will roast in only eight to ten minutes, but watch them closely, as they can go from toasted to scorched in a very short time at this temperature. If using a microwave, roast nuts at full power for three to four minutes. To remove the skins, pour the hot nuts in the center of a rough kitchen terry towel. Pull the towel up around the nuts and twist tightly, making a hobo pack. Let stand to steam for about five minutes. Vigorously rub the warm nuts in the towel until most of the skins are removed.”

The hazel is a tree rich in folklore. In Celtic legend, it’s the tree of knowledge. The salmon in Connla’s well ate the nuts of a hazel tree that dropped into the water and thus became the wisest of all beings. The hazel is the ninth tree in the Old Irish tree alphabet and the symbol of the ninth month (Aug-Sept). [F&W] The Dinnschenchas calls the tree the “poet’s music-haunted hazel” and also mentions “the nine hazels of Crimnall the Sage,” which “stand by the power of magic spells.” [Hageneder]

Hazel twigs are often used as divining rods and are most efficacious if cut on St John’s Eve or Night. In Berlin, it must be cut by an innocent child of true faith and it will only have power for seven years. In Brandenburg, you must approach the tree in darkness, walking backwards, and cut the fork silently, while reaching between the legs. Divining rods were used until the 17th century for discovering thieves and murderers as well as treasure and water. To test a divining rod, hold it in water and it will squeal like a pig. [F&W]

The hazel is the tree of Thor in Norwegian mythology. It’s under the domain of Mercury in Roman myth.

References:
Funk & Wagnalls Standard Dictionary of Folklore, Mythology and Legend, edited by Maria Leach, Harper and Row 1971
Hageneder, Fred, The Meaning of Trees, Chronicle 2005

Illustration of hazelnut from Prof. Dr. Otto Wilhelm Thomé Flora von Deutschland, Österreich und der Schweiz 1885, Gera, Germany as found at:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Illustration_Corylus_avellana0.jpg

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

The Sack

No plant today. It's Fructidor 20 so the French Republican calendar features a tool: the sack, to be exact. At first I wasn't too inspired by this but then I started considering all of its permutations.

The brown paper bag in which I carry home my groceries.
The green Book of the Month Club bag which carries all my essential items: calendar, wallet, pens, paint chips, bus schedules and the all important: something-to-read.
The cloth bag in which I carry my library books back and forth.
The knapSACK--I don't have one right now but I still have the one I bought at an army surplus store in England when I was a college junior and in the height of hippiness I went to England and wandered around in a long dress made out of curtains, playing tunes on my recorder to the sheep in the fields.

The Wikipedia article on sack,
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sack
mentioned several alternate meanings of the word, which are interesting, including sack, a kind of sherry, and sack as in knocking down the quarterback and sack as in fire an employee and sack as in plunder.

It’s easy enough to see the origin of this latter use—anyone sacking a village would have used a sack to carry away the goods they plundered. Perhaps the tackling the quarterback comes from the same meaning—raiding the treasure. But how does one come up with sacking an employee? Maybe because they have to pack their bags and go home? And what about hitting the sack? That’s easy if you sleep on a sack stuffed with straw. The word for sherry does not come from the same word but from the Roman word siccus, meaning dry.

The American Heritage Dictionary provides a history of the term with a special note on the way it was passed from one group of people to another through trade. The Greeks got their word sakkos, which means a bag made out of coarse cloth or hair, from thePhoenicians and although we don’t know the Phoenician word, we can see its cognates in Hebrew saq and Akkadian saqqu. The Greeks passed the word along to the Romans who called it saccus, who passed that word along, with bags one supposes, to the Germans with whom they traded. The Welsh, Russians, Polish and Albanians also picked up this word from the Romans.

The Wikipedia link to an article on bags,
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bag
reminded me of other important sacks, including the sleeping bag, the suitcase, sachets (sacks filled with herbs) and, my favorite, the tea bag.

And I suppose there are many more sacks in my life. I am going to pay special attention to them today.