You guys. I just made a cocktail tailored to me. Herbal tinctures and rye whiskey. It is very enjoyable. The herbs I am taking tonight and for the next little while are as follows: super echinacea (I think I might have some surprise allergies to something growing at Wilder Farm, that’s my farm), chicory (a Bach flower remedy that emphasizes letting go, also a badass purple flower that grows in the shitiest conditions),
valerian (helps with sleep and relaxation), motherwort (on the label, it states: “Be Kind to Your Motherwort” – from Castle Remedies on Washtenaw in Ann Arbor, Michigan), goldenseal (suspicious allergies), red clover (womanly herb),and, just tonight, for the first time, Rittenhouse Rye Whiskey from Louisville, Kentucky. I asked for a recommendation at The Keg in Ypsilanti. I like Bulleit and Two James, but I wanted something different and affordable. My first sip was not good. I poured a small first taste and then added some water. That’s how I usually drink Bulleit. It was a little syrupy. Disclaimer: I fear that I lack proper vocabulary to discuss drinks, coffee included, but who fucking cares. I’m going to write about shit that I like. One not good taste. Lie down with boys for bedtime reading. Eight year old boy reads aloud every night by choice. It’s wonderful. Lights out, but linger a while longer for cuddles and some talking. Try to sit outside and enjoy the moon, but it’s too fucking cold god damnit. Herbs in whiskey. It’s delicious. Not sweet at all, so if you prefer that, do not do this. I love bitter things: turmeric, espresso, very bitter IPA’s, spicy rye whiskey, and apparently, mother fucking goldenseal. If you have ever tasted goldenseal, you require no further explanation. If you have not tasted goldenseal, the shit is foul. It is yellow in color. Very yellow. It tastes like poison to me when combined with any liquid, or so I thought. Rye whiskey is the proper carrier for this herb. And it’s an herb that I think I need. Flavor does not always communicate health effects, I have learned. I tasted a red clover leaf. Terrible. The flowers are excellent. The herbal tincture does wonders. Leaves and stem? Fuck it.
Plantain. Magical green lined leaf that grows all over the Midwest, and hopefully further.
If you cut yourself, like I do, A LOT, chew this leaf and then rub it, spit and all, on your cut. It will clean and promote healing in your wound.
I want my world to be a healing world. I don’t really know what that means, but I know that it sounds good to me. My Dad taught me that our bodies can do impressive, remarkable things. He was an abusive father and husband, so I have not seen him in 18 years. I am currently coming to terms with the positive effects of his personality on me. I think I look like him a lot right now, but that only pertains to my memory of him. Oh yeah, and photos I have of him. He’s a smart man, and he taught me a lot. He taught me the names of bones; how tendons and ligaments work; that muscles are dense, and fat insulates (this was a cold winter for me); and that parts of your body continue to grow as you age, like your ears.
And your brain.
Being pregnant taught me that our skull is made up of mobile parts. It’s a requirement of being pushed through a vagina. A baby’s head comes out squished, and oddly shaped sometimes. That’s regular. The bones eventually are assumed to fuse together, but I don’t think they do, because I just spent my entire winter getting rid of past experiences (I still have memories, of course, I just don’t associate all the negativity and shit with them), and now I’m starting to learn new things again.
Oh, and I think I forgot to say, I liked the rye whiskey.