self medication

Don’t worry, it’s the good kind.  I’ve had a giant box of herbs sitting on my kitchen table all week, ordered to make teas and tinctures with until the farm is ready to grow enough to supply the apothecary.  I was excited when they arrived, and unpacked all the bags with their beautiful colors and textures… then put them away again.  And there they sat all through deep blues and sickness.  Where is my mom to come make me a cup of tea?  The most I could manage was finding the bagged teas and settling for that.  No more!  I refuse to give up and to give in to sadness, and although it’s healthy to grieve, I still have work to do.  Time to pull out the medicine chest, of which this is just a sampling:

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Made a blend of reishi, chaga, echinacea roots and tops, scullcap, oregon grape root, nettle, schisandra berries, half a knob of ginger, sliced, and yes, nurse Katy, some St. John’s wort.  Measured out a batch for breakfast and another to brew later, and let the bitter and spicy things steep and do their work.  Like all good medicine, it’s potent… not tasty but not terrible either.

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Pair that with a glass of fresh clementine juice and a steaming bowl of apple walnut oatmeal with cinnamon, butter, cream, and maple syrup, and even this battered soul is recovered from morning chicken chores and bringing in the firewood, and ready to go tackle the world.  I’ll need it- the snow is deep out there.  Debating whether I’ll try to ride or take the train- either way, I have to hike towards the studio where my bike is, and on the way, let out my friend’s dogs for their morning comfort break, so I’ll judge when I see for myself what the main streets are like.  The train is right there if I choose, though I could probably use the exercise and sunlight.  It’s tempting though to sit on the train and read a book… seems silly to pay fare for only two or three stops though.  At any rate… you can’t change what others do- only how you choose to react.  You can give up in despair, or you can keep feeding that fire until it lights (speaking of which, it did- cosy flames still keeping me company).   But the most important fire to feed is the one inside.  Keep burning, folks.

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