Melissa Officinalis

I continue to be fascinated not just with herbs, but with herbs that have been used by human beings for thousands of years. Lemon balm, or, formally, melissa officinalis, falls in that category. I think I first became aware of lemon balm through my dear friend Conny, who is German, and, apparently, lemon balm is much more common in Germany than it is here. The Germans make a lemon balm salve which I am now longing to have in my store of medicinal herbs, and I might have to resort to making my own, most likely with a bit of guidance from Henriette Kress’s book Practical Herbs, which you are probably aware I recently reviewed. (She teaches you All Things Herbal!)

I think, in fact, that Conny once sent me home with a bag of dried lemon balm herbs she kindly picked from her garden, and I must confess I was not quite sure what to do with them, and so I did nothing whatsoever. This happens to all of us with new herbs, I think, and rightly so. There is an intrinsic wisdom in not blithely using herbs, but in researching, studying and when we feel we have sufficient information to be confident in our knowledge of the herb, begin to use. Some of them thus will end up being lifelong companions for which we are eternally grateful. I’m approaching that point with lemon balm, so I will share with you how far along I am in my knowledge and perhaps some of you will be moved to join me in its usage.

Years after the gifting of the bag of lemon balm which sat on a shelf for a long long time, unused, I at last found myself foraging herbs in a big box store and found some lemon balm in small containers. I bought two. One ended up in a big pot. It seemed like the right thing to do. The other, rather sadly, did not get transplanted for quite some time. (Don’t ask. This happens. I’m busy.) But one morning it was at last put in a small pot, which was better than its original container, which it did outgrow, poor thing. And I will depart from the point of this post to point out blatantly to what happens when you put a living being (plant, animal or human, take your pick) and put in a confining space:

And what happens to a living being (plant, animal or human) if you put it in a spacious environment with ample room for spreading wings, branches, mind and heart:

Given that I think metaphorically and have based an entire book on using gardening as a metaphor for life, this is the pictorial version, and need I say more? I think not. 🙂

So that happened.

But what to actually do with it?

The overwhelming and predominant usage of lemon balm which I read over and over again in multiple sources was to simply make a tea of it and that it was associated with relaxation. Perfect. I was actually needing something refreshing to drink in the summer evenings, after a hot day. I always have black tea for breakfast, green tea for lunch and I did not want caffeine in the evening, and, while water is nice sometimes, I found I was lacking a cooling drink to have with my light supper. As it turns out lemon balm fills this need quite beautifully. So here’s what I did. I bought a large glass jar to make sun tea, which I had not done in ages. I’m not sure why as it used to be a habit, but one that got misplaced over the years. I used two quarts of water and picked enough leaves from the larger plant that I felt I would have a lovely tea. And I placed in the hot sun in the garden all day long.

The sheer act of doing this was enormously satisfying. I’m very happy I’ve resumed this lovely tradition. And in the evening I brought in the jar, feeling I had something so precious made in the hot summer sun, and added a bit of honey, and then strained it, put in a pitcher and let it cool overnight. The next afternoon I enjoyed the simple pleasure of a chilled glass of lemon balm tea. What a joy!
I am abundantly glad I tried this and to have now added cold lemon balm tea as a standard in my summer kitchen. I especially appreciate that given its relaxing qualities (not unlike chamomile) the tea begins to prepare me for a good night’s sleep. In addition lemon balm aids digestion, adding to its being a good choice for the last meal of the day. I do hope you will try and enjoy.

Love and herbal blessings,
Kathryn xoxo
Footnote: One of the UK gardening bloggers left a comment on FB about this post reminding me it’s way too rainy in the UK at the moment to make suntea. 🙁 Don’t hesitate to make a hot cup of tea with the lemon balm leaves from your garden. It’s very delicious!

Book News: Highlight of the week was unexpectedly finding a review of Plant Whatever Brings You Joy through a random google search in Telluride, Colorado’s local newspaper The Watch! From that review:

The garden as a metaphor is by no means a new literary concept but this is a fabulous packaging of that idea. This gardening blogger and book publicist has mashed up the sentiment of gardening into the reality of life (which means it gets shelved in several sections of the store). Thematic titles abound: Appreciate Small Returns, Move Gently Among the Bees, Reframe All Error as Learning, and Clean Up After a Storm. Fiercely Guard the Seedlings is a sweet paralleling about children. The format—52 lessons through 52 stories—lends itself to a once-a-week devotional. At three to five pages each, they’re easy to fit in as a quick grounding. But don’t just take our word for it; there’s a blurb from the cultural anthropologist who wrote “The Second Half of Life” that heralds “Plant Whatever Brings You Joy” as an “invaluable resource for understanding the garden as a source of healing, growth, solace, joy, wisdom and inspiration.” This small book is proof again that what we all really need, we probably already have or have access to, whether that’s proper gardening tools or the therapy that pulling weeds, helping things bloom, and indigenous wisdom can mete out.

Meanwhile, I’ve been continuing to collect pics of my book on indie bookstore shelves around the country and posting them in a photo album on my new Facebook fan page, quite gratifying, I have to say. 🙂

Posted on July 17th, 2012 by Kathryn
Filed under: Plants | 8 Comments »

Once upon a time there was a wee small kitten wandering the vineyards of a very small village in the rugged county of Mendocino. The village had once been home to a tribe of Native American Pomo Indians. But that was long ago and now the village was on the decline, a place where people passed through merely to get to the next town, or the next. There were no welcoming facilities for lost or homeless kittens, very especially not for those who were falling through the friendly cracks of civilization, headed for a life of feral existence. Oh, no. As fate would have it a young couple noticed the kitten and had the decency (or perhaps they were annoyed by her presence) to take it to a neighboring town a few miles up the road, where she was locked in a large room dedicated to large cats with wicked tempers and glaring eyes, destined only for barn catdom, such as it is. The wispy woman in charge of this lot of felines perhaps noticed the frailty of the little kitten, who had not yet progressed to the point of no return on the Road to a Feral Life, and moved her to a second room, a room where those felines had a slim chance of making it back to a family life and a warm heart. And as Destiny would have it, the small critter, maybe only because she was very cute, and very small, and seemingly so innocent, was moved from there to a third room called The Adoption Room. People came and went week after week, however, and paid the little thing no mind at all. Not at all.

One day a sprightly woman with cornsilk hair entered The Adoption Room, where only four other inhabitants lived, if truth be told. A large black cat with grape green eyes, rather foreboding. The teeniest of black kittens spitting fearfully at all who approached. And a very large ginger cat who was content to be left to herself, thank you very much. The woman who entered smelled of roses and lavender and spotted the wee kitten crouched quietly in the back corner of her metal cage, making herself very small and quiet, without losing presence. Indeed, the woman took one look at the kitten and a spark flew between the two Earthly beings. Oh, the teeniest of sparks, but undeniable, nevertheless.

“May I see that kitten?” the woman said. A young girl kindly pulled the kitten from its safe corner and placed her on the ground. Snap.

“Well, hello there!” The woman slowly bent down to touch the kitten, and the kitten met her touch with a harsh clawing.

“Ouch.”

The woman rather abandoned the idea of the kitten who scratched, but returned to her home and that night in the dead of her sleep her eyes opened and a voice inside her said, “Her name is Coco.” Drawing herself awake she laughed to herself. “Oh, dear. I’m naming that cat.” What does that mean?

What it meant was that she returned to the shelter and within another day she was writing a cheque and filling out paperwork for a cat she was, in all honesty, afraid to pick up. Yet her heart and spirit told her this kitty was hers, and meant to be with her in this lifetime. And that was what she honored.

However, not all gifts and blessings are straightforward. Not at all. Some paths require detours. And effort. And so it was with Coco and her new friend. For the woman had it in mind, and rightly so, that it would be both wise and kind to visit the kitten as often as she could afford, to allow them to begin to bond and to know each other, as they awaited a needed spaying to take place. She brought tiny bits of “wet food” from home, the kind the kitten would soon be eating, she thought. And she brought a blanket. And a small toy. And a comb to comb her. And as questions arose she asked the people who worked there about her. Might she have mites? How long had she been there? Did she have her shots, yet? These were good questions. And yet they were met with increasing resistance, until, upon asking the most dreaded question–might she have a bath prior to surgery?–when it became clear that the people who were charged with the care of the (mostly feral) animals, were themselves now slightly feral and they descended on the loving woman and sent her out the door without her beloved new charge. And she was heartbroken.

“You become like what you contemplate.” ~Anonymous

As it had not been long since the tender-hearted woman had lost another beloved cat, she found herself weeping a torrent of tears until she at last picked up the phone and asked her vet for help. “Do you need grief counseling?” Apparently she did. So she listened to the kindest of nurses, a woman named Michael, who told her to do two things. And she did. She got immediately into her car and drove north into the country to a second shelter about which she had known nothing and walked among cage after cage of well adjusted cats, mature cats who had lived there for years. “It feels like a cat monastery,” she told herself. But the cat in her heart was not among these contented beings. No. She was stuck in a tiny steel cage, now missing the woman who had shown her kindness, the first she’d ever seen.

What to do?

The second instruction was to call a woman whose life was devoted to rescuing cats.

“If you want to rescue a cat, call a cat rescuer.” ~Kathryn Hall, in retrospect

The Cat Rescuer listened to the strange story of the little kitten, and found herself agreeing it would be very strange, indeed, to deny the little kitten a loving home simply because an abundance of love and care had been shown her. Where is the wisdom in that?

“Enthusiam is not always well received.” ~Nurse Michael

Blessedly, a plan was hatched that evening during that fateful phonecall. And the Cat Rescuer, whose entire life was devoted to saving cats, offered to have the little homeless kitten, little Coco, released into her care, whereupon she would be delivered into the safe hands of Nurse Michael and her staff. And so it happened.

Imagine the flaxen woman’s happiness when she received a phone call from her vet saying, “Coco is here and we are giving her a bath!”

Two days later little Coco was taken home to her forever home and she was given her own room in which to adjust, for her new life included two well meaning Border Collies and a Siamese cat named Sweet Pea, who was, in actuality, an old lady and not inclined readily to accept a new cat in her home. Oh, well.

Coco with her new bunny toy

Love and kitty blessings,
Kathryn xoxo

Book News: The biggest news to date is simply that I at last can be found on Facebook at www.facebook.com/TheKathrynHall Please let me know if I might friend you!

Posted on June 19th, 2012 by Kathryn
Filed under: Animals | 7 Comments »