We’ve been in the farmhouse for three months now and are settling into a full and busy routine.  I like to start at least a few days each week with an early morning perambulation of the property, a kind of beating of the bounds while the sun comes up. In this quiet, peaceful hour I watch the goldenrod fill the fields in a wave of lemon yellow and then fade away. I pass the hawthorns ripening and make a mental note to come back with my harvest basket. Rounding the corner to the far field I come upon a deer and a family of wild turkeys. The deer lifts and swings its head to look at me. I pause, have a moment with the deer, and continue on my way.  It feels necessary to continually move my body through this landscape that sustains and nourishes me and to get to know it as intimately as I can. ​

As the summer winds down and the days shorten I’m also looking ahead to fall activities.  I’m making plans for next year’s growing season. I have a new series of workshops to offer and lots of products in the apothecary to share with you. Please read on to find out what’s happening in the Wild Garden over the next few months!
Fall Wild Food and Herb CSA
The Fall CSA is open for registration. From October to December each box will be filled with products handcrafted from local, organic plants to support you through thechanging season and prepare you for winter, including elderberry syrup, immune boosting mushrooms, digestive bitters and more. For more information or to sign up visit here.
Apothecary 101: Herbal Medicine Making Series 
There are a variety of ways to work with the healing properties of plants from themost primal, ancient act of adding herbs to hot water, to today’s quick and convenient tinctures dropped on the tongue. Choosing your solvent, your herbs and how to administer them is a skill you can spend a lifetime mastering. These workshops are designed to both get you started and deepen your experience of the theory and practice of herbal medicine making!
September 16th, 6-8pm The Universal Solvent: Water-based herbal extracts  
Steeping and decocting herbs into water is the foundation and simplest form of plant healing that can bring about the most profound and transformative effects in thebody. This workshop will explore internal and external uses of nourishing herbal infusions, soaks, baths, sitz baths, poultices, compresses and washes.
October 21st, 6-8pm Sweet & Sour Medicine Part I: Herbal honey, syrup, electuaries 
Sweet remedies are calming, soothing, nourishing and building and they help themedicine go down!
November 4th, 6-8pm Sweet & Sour Medicine Part II: Vinegar, oxymels, switchels and shrubs 
Vinegar-based remedies have been used since ancient times to promote health and well-being.
December 2nd, 6-8pm Healing Oils and Soothing Salves  
Herb infused oils and salves protect and heal the integumentary system and ease theaches and pains of musculoskeletal injuries.
For more information or to sign up visit here.  These workshops are free (+ $5 materials fee) to CSA members during the months for which they are subscribed.
I will also be teaching Materia Medica II and Western Herbal Energetics at theInternational Academy Health Education Centre this fall.
If you live in Ottawa you can now order select Wild Garden Products online throughSavour Ottawa and pick them up at the Parkdale Fieldhouse.
And finally, the original date for the Petrie Island plant walk got rained out and will be now be taking place this Sunday the 20th at 1 pm.

August 6
I linger in the apothecary. I’ve hung the boneset and spread the raspberry leaves to dry. There is more work downstairs in the kitchen yet, but I surrender a few precious moments to gaze out the window and watch the last of the dusky peach drain out of the sky and give way to the deepening blue.
The farmhouse is quiet and I am winding down the day, taking a final pass with the broom, corralling various bits of whatever plant matter is constantly under foot. A quick review of the forecast and the bottomless ‘to do’ list gives shape to tomorrow.
Laundry. Harvest and tincture oats in am. Gather sumac. Pull garlic. Garble mugwort. Make batch of lotion bars. Strain horsetail vinegar. Prepare tincture for A. Mix smoking blend for B. Send comfrey oil to C. Start 2nd ferment of kefir. Prep Saturday’s plant walk. Send in membership to the National Farmer’s Union. Advertise fall workshops. Update the books. Keep the records. Pay the bills. Dishes. Dishes. Dishes.
And always the sweeping.

August 29
I enter the sitting room closing the French doors behind me, shrinking my world and my cares to the four book-lined walls and the open windows that let in late summer night air and a chorus of crickets. Underneath there is the ever present thrum of traffic, the busy 6 lane road nearby a constant reminder of this farm’s urban setting.
The farm exists right at the boundary of city and country, in the feral, edge spaces between the two. ‘Burbs and big box stores flank my east and west. To the south is corn & soy farmland, and two parallel roads built atop sandy ridges left behind by an ancient sea, cutting into a remarkable bog/boreal ecosystem. To the north are small, scrappy woods, the highway, the river.
The traffic noise fades from my mind as I settle into my chair, cup of tea at hand. The old reading lamp casts a warm, mellow glow and suddenly I am overcome with anticipation. Reading in the evening! How long has it been? I pause for a moment, acutely aware of what this signifies. Another shift in the light. Shortening days and lengthening nights. An exhale. A wider sliver of opening that will take me slowly from the work of sun-drenched, blue-sky days into that season of butter light, wet leaves, warming spices, hot broths, slow cooked apples and finally to snow hushed rest.
But tonight it’s a few precious moments stolen from a busy harvest schedule to readBraiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer. It’s been a months long wait for this book on hold at the library. I’m so thrilled to finally have it in my hands I’m almost too excited to read.
But then I begin and am caught up in the words.
“The question of goldenrod and asters was of course just emblematic of what I really wanted to know. It was an architecture of relationships, of connections that I yearned to understand. I wanted to see the shimmering threads that hold it all together. And I wanted to know why we love the world, why the most ordinary scrap of meadow can rocks us back on our heels in awe.”
~Braiding Sweetgrass, Robin Wall Kimmerer.

The solstice is past. Already morning light streaming into the bedroom comes in just a just a touch later now. The nightly light show of June’s fireflies gives way to the cicadas starting to drone their high note of summer. The days shimmer with the kind of heat and haze that makes afternoon siestas in the hammock mandatory. It’s the time of year when words like ‘verdant’ and ‘lush’ are an understatement. My life in particular has become downright bucolic recently.
My partner Andrew and I have had the amazing fortune of renting the house on theJust Food property where my 1/2 acre garden is located. We moved in at the beginning of June and a month and a half later we are unpacked and in awe of our new living arrangements.

The house is very accessible by public transit and there is a stop less than a minute away on a major route that can take you downtown in about 20 minutes. The post office, grocery store and library are a 5 minute bike ride away.
I’m so thrilled to have this space to steward, respect and care for, for as long as I am here. This feels like the proverbial next chapter in my life and for the Wild Garden, and I am excited to see how the story continues to unfold.
And as always, for those of you who have followed me on this journey, for a little or a long time, I am grateful. Every encouraging word and helpful tidbit of feedback bolsters my heart. I am honoured by each CSA member, student and class participant with the opportunity to share my love of the plants and to spend yet another day dedicated to work and study that brings me joy. Thank you for sharing in this, and if you’re in the neighbourhood, do come and stop by the farm to say ‘hi!’
The Just Food Farm Stand launches in two weeks on July 26th. This year it will run on Sundays up until Thanksgiving from 10 am to 3 pm. You’ll have a fantastic selection of local, organic veggies, honey, ferments, herbs, teas and more! We just started a Facebook page here, where you can stay up to date on our special events and what we have on offer each week.
This year’s weed walks have been very popular, selling out quickly. I looked at my schedule and managed to squeeze in an extra date. There are only four spots left for this one!
The Explorations in Plant Healing classes have been such a delight to host. Imagine spending an entire day immersed in and experiencing one plant in depth. The combination of field botany, nature awareness, theory and practice had one participant comment, “Thank you, Amber, for another wonderful session in the Exploration in Plant Healing series last weekend. I enjoy every part of the experience, especially the outdoors foraging on the farm and later making medicine together in the farmhouse. I also appreciate the attention we give our focus plant through reflections and researching the Materia Medica. It’s a magical place to be for the day!”
Spots are filling up in for the Foraging Families class coming up in August. This will be a fun-filled day of learning about wild plants, playing games and exploring the outdoors.
The Summer CSA is in full swing. I love planning for and preparing the boxes each month. And I’m already looking ahead to the fall anticipating wild crab apple butter, all things goldenrod, sticky New England Aster flowers, elderberry syrup, delicious dandelion…
Register for the Fall CSA here.
I hope everyone is having a wonderful summer and taking time to enjoy the wild and weedy things!

The Wild Garden even makes a brief appearance and I’m still floored to be in such illustrious company!
Flip to the back of the magazine and you’ll find a gorgeous spread of some common, wild edible foods that can be found in our area. I love the illustrations by Julia Kuo!
A quick glance at the spread when I picked up my copy, however, revealed a few mistakes. I feel the need to point them out, not to nitpick, but for safety reasons (incorrect identification of plants used for food and/or medicine can lead to serious harm), because my name is on it and I need people to know that I know what I’m talking about (most of the time!) and because I think this is a great cautionary example for foragers and wildcrafters of all skill levels, but especially beginners.

The first rule of foraging/wildcrafting is always have a 100% positive ID before harvesting. The best way to get this ID is by spending A LOT of time observing plants in a variety of habitats, in different growing conditions, in all their growth stages, in all four seasons and reference at least 3 different sources (field guides, local floras, an expert, or trusted online sources). Don’t rely on just one source for an ID and don’t believe everything you read or hear.
The reality is, mistakes happen and humans are fallible. Herban legends get passed on untested from one foraging book to another until everyone vehemently asserts that common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca) must be boiled in multiple changes of water before it can be consumed. (This is actually not necessary.) Talk about eating black nightshade and some people will look at you and wonder how managed to survive such a deadly meal. They’ve confused Solanum nigrum, S. americanum, S. ptychanthum, S. douglasii and other closely allied species with deadly nightshade (Atropa belladona) or bittersweet nightshade (Solanum dulcamara). I was once told by an experienced herbalist that sumac is not used for medicine and is best harvested in the fall. (It has an exceptionally long history of use as medicine and is one of my favourite astringents. It’s best gathered around here in late July to early August.) Older foraging books often list multiple species of ferns as edible but we now know that many of them have carcinogenic compounds and high amounts of thiaminase, which breaks down thiamine and prevents the body from absorbing this important B vitamin. So now most foragers stick with the ostrich fern (Matteuccia struthiopteris). But even then there are exceptions.
There are some great forums on Facebook that discuss wild edible foods and medicinal plants (I especially like Ancestral Plants run by Arthur Haines). In these groups you have access to some of the best experts in the field (literally) who spend time and energy providing quality information for free. But there are also complete beginners making stab in the dark guesses, and everyone in between. Misinformation abounds on social media and it can be overwhelming to sort through it all.
I have corrected errors in the notes people have taken on plant walks with me. Somewhere in the transmission from my mouth to their paper, details got lost or confused. Not to mention that on plant walks I can’t always provide every single detail about every plant we discuss. I may leave out the odd contraindication (don’t drink red clover if you’re on blood thinners), confuse my scientific names (Chrysanthemum leucanthemum has been changed to Leucanthemum vulgare and maybe I forgot that) or even (shocking!) misidentify a plant. (A homeschool child once pointed out to me that the tree without leaves couldn’t possibly be a maple because it had last year’s linden seeds still attached to a branch. Oops!)
My point is, mistakes happen and when it comes to foraging and wildcrafting those mistakes have the potential to be harmful (Thankfully, most of the time, they are not). Wherever you are on your journey of working with wild plants, it is essential to cross-reference, double and triple check and be absolutely certain you have that 100% positive ID. Don’t rely on a single source of information. Don’t believe everything you read, especially if it’s on the internet. And don’t believe me. While I go to great lengths to ensure that the information I provide is as accurate as possible, it’s still important cross-reference that with other sources. I’ve been at this for nearly a decade now. I have a knack for plant ID and I’ve taught myself some pretty solid botany skills, but in so many ways I still think of myself as a beginner. I’m still learning, making discoveries and yes, making mistakes. And sometimes beautiful spreads in excellent magazines are printed with my words, but things get a little mixed up in the layout.
If you make sure to take responsibility for the wild plants you touch and put in your mouth, do your research and observe the plants closely and frequently, your foraging experience will be safe, healthy and a lot of fun!
Check out these sources for more information on safety and foraging guidelines:
http://www.ediblewildfood.com/foraging-for-food.aspx
http://www.eatweeds.co.uk/safety-guidelines-for-edible-wild-food-plants
http://www.gallowaywildfoods.com/?page_id=1675

My partner called me while I was working with the willow in my garden the other week. “I AM SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW!”, I all-capsed at him, when he asked how I was doing. And I was. With wind and sun on my face, feeling the smooth bark under my hands, the scent of fresh cut wood in my nose and listening to the birds chirping their spring songs, I was full to bursting.
Reflecting on this later, I wondered why? What is it about this activity that brings me so much cup-runneth-over joy? In fact, I sometimes wonder how it is that I find myself, fresh out of youth at 39 and utterly enamoured and obsessed with the photosynthesising set. Is this weird? (Maybe.) Am I crazy? (Probably.)

The other day I re-watched a video of myself from  two summers ago. I thought I might use it for some promotional material I am working on, but I decided not to post it.Olivier Asselin did a wonderful job on the video, and I think I mostly made sense, but there was one moment that I felt, I guess, a little embarrassed about. I talked about my wish to devote the rest of my life to the plants, in a big-eyed, overly earnest sort of way and well, in a world of hipster irony and cynicism, big-eyed earnestness does not play well.  Watching myself, I felt self-conscious and silly and shy. But I remembered that moment in the interview and I remembered that the emotion felt too big to put into proper words. I knew there was something more that I wanted to express, but couldn’t quite get out.
In the video I talked about my year of not buying anything new in 2008. (You know, in that era of the aughts where people were doing all sorts of year-long challenges to make the world a better place?) I talked about how that year introduced me to some pretty scary realities in the world, like the fact that we’ve used up all of the cheap, easy to get fossil fuels and the energy return on what’s invested is rapidly diminishing. I understood more about how the burning of those fuels contributes to a changing climate and how our resource management strategy seems to be: extract whatever the earth has got, at the expense of our flora, fauna, lakes, rivers, oceans, forests, air and most importantly at the expense of the lives of the most marginalised populations in the world, not to mention our children and our future. I learned a little bit about how the economy is like one big Ponzi scheme, money is loaned into existence and the whole system rests on the ridiculous belief that infinite growth on a finite planet is possible and desirable. (There’s a good summary of the issues here.)
As these realities sunk in, I got scared, depressed, zealous, horrified, indignant, judgemental, self-righteous, green, crunchy, granola, active, involved, engaged, really into permaculture, radical homemaking, self-reliant homesteading, prepping, gardening, canning… It was quite a year! And I found the plants. Or they found me. I’m still not sure. All I know is that suddenly they were everywhere and I wanted to know everything I could about them. I wanted, in the most earnest, big-eyed way possible, to devote the rest of my life to the study and stewardship of the plants.  Suddenly, it was the most obvious and sensible response to all the information I was taking in, which had completely shaken up my world view.  So I pulled up my sleeves and got to work creating a practical (and IMO, beautiful) antidote to the bleak and resource depleted world we seem to be on track for leaving to future generations.

The drought in California weighs heavily on my mind these days, (one of among many). It is staggering to comprehend that this is a state that for over 14,000 years was forest gardened and fire-stick farmed by hunter-gatherers to such abundance that it allowed for the highest population density in North America at the time. (Anderson, M. Kat (2006). Tending the Wild: Native American Knowledge And the Management of California’s Natural Resources.) In less than 500 years ‘civilised’ humans have managed to drain it nearly dry.
My heart gets heavy and so darn sad when I think about things like this and the only thing I want to do in the face of it all, is find ways to live in the world that might lead to a  more balanced, co-creative, regenerative, closed-loop relationship with my habitat. (Lofty ideal I know, but the heart wants what the heart wants.)

And now I know why something like coppicing makes me so happy and why I feel so compelled to forest garden, wield a scythe, wildcraft, compost, work with plants and share what knowledge I can. It makes sense, down to my very marrow, to maintain these ancient practices into the future. It feels right and sane and essential to engage in work that can meet basic needs, while at the same time manage and sustain a thriving, diverse ecosystem for hundreds if not thousands of years, without exploiting or violating the rights of others.  It fills me with hope.  (Plus there’s the added bonus of actually getting to live out my childhood pioneer girl fantasies, straight out of a Willa Cather novel. I’m living the dream!) (And goodness please don’t think that I don’t value other types of work and pursuits. There are many important, necessary, noble professions out there, as well as many dedicated people in jobs they may/or may not love, but contribute so much in other areas of their lives. Most of us do the best we can to the capacity we are able. This just happens to be my story. It’s the only one I know.)
So, I don’t have plans to do anything special or different on Earth Day, but I know that my hands will be busy with some kind of ancient future work.

I’m reading a lovely little book right now called The Forest Unseen, written by David George Haskell. This professor of biology spent a year observing a one-square-metre patch of old-growth forest in Tennessee and recorded his observations in a series of illuminating essays on the natural world. His premise was: observing the small, almost invisible aspects of nature can reveal the story of the forest as a whole in a rich and intimate way. Close observation invites the viewer to witness the hidden secrets of ecosystems that are otherwise unseen.

Ecologist and taxonomist Arthur Haines teaches that, “conscientious human interaction with plants, such as foraging in a careful and sustainable manner, can actually insure the survival of a plant species…” It is through interacting with the plants that we can truly begin to value them and their (our) habitats.
When you take this level of interaction with the plants down to the microcosmic level and reveal the mysteries awaiting there, I feel an unbreakable bond is forged. For me, it is a bond formed of wonderment, reverence and gratitude. A fierce protective instinct kicks in too, and a desire to nurture and care for the whole that is represented by the small part in front of me.

And here’s the thing: these mysteries are available to everyone! Everyone has the ability to look closely and witness the ‘holy public secret’ of nature and discover the treasures waiting there.
This year I have designed a series of plant classes that I hope will give participants the opportunity to do just that. By providing the time and structure to cross that threshold into the realm of the unseen, each class will aim to make visible that which is so often invisible in our hectic, plugged-in lives.  Through a variety of lessons and activities such as nature awareness exercises, botany, herbal preparations and more, the full value of some of our most common, often widely disparaged plants, will be revealed. I invite you to come join me!
For full details on the classes or to register, visit here.

Elecampane is native to Europe, but has naturalised through much of Eastern and Western North America. In grows in disturbed areas, fields and roadsides, especially in moist soil. Occasionally it grows in large patches pictured here, but often you will find single plants spread over a large area. I frequently see it at the edges of wooded areas. In the Ottawa area, look for it on the Carleton campus and in Brewer Park by the river.
Be sure to keep an eye out for this beautiful, interesting plant on your next winter walk and enjoy exploring and getting to know it!

​Eastern white cedar (Thuja occidentalis, Cupressaceae family) is ubiquitous in the Northeastern North American landscape. It is especially common in urban settings. In fact, I think it’s safe to say that the average urban dweller in the Northeast wouldn’t have to travel more than 50 paces outside their front door before encountering a cedar hedge. As a fast-growing, hardy conifer that holds up well in cold climates, it’s a popular landscaping choice for living fences and privacy screens in residential areas. It is so common that its presence seems a bit dull and boring, a little too homogeneous.

​It is easy to overlook and undervalue something so banal. There is nothing exotic or rare about a plant that we see everywhere, everyday, so much so that we lose our awareness of it until it fades into the background as just another piece of the wall of green. What sacred mysteries could this mundane plant possibly hold?

But one only needs to, literally, scratch the surface to discover the wonders of this plant. Take a close look at the scaly leaves of a cedar bough. Studded along the upper and underside of the leaves are tiny glands that are just visible to the naked eye, but are best viewed under a hand lens. Each of these glands contain essential oils that are released when you scratch the glands with your thumbnail. The essential oil contains a number of chemicals including: alpha-pinene, alpha-fenchene, camphene, sabinene, beta-mycrene, limonene, alpha-fenchone, alpha-thujone, beta-thujone, camphor and bornyl acetate. (1)
These potent phytochemicals have many beneficial medicinal properties in the human body. They are antimicrobial, active against bacterial, viral and fungal pathogens. They have immune-stimulating properties and act as adjuvants to prescription antibiotics for upper respiratory tract infections.(2) Arthur Haines writes that cedar enhances the immune system through, “increased white blood cell count, increased cytokines and antibody production, activation of macrophages”, and that “taken prior to or at the onset of cold and flu symptoms, Thuja occidentalis has the capacity to shorten the duration of symptoms.” Cedar also has an expectorant action aiding in chest congestion, boggy lungs and phlegmy coughs.
Exceptionally high in vitamin C, one of the other common names for this plant is arborvitae, which means ‘tree of life’. Tales have come down through history, recounting how early explorers and settlers to the New World suffered from scurvy and Native Americans taught them to drink tea made from cedar and other conifers, to treat and prevent the disease. It is hard for us, with easy access to fresh fruits and vegetables all year round, to imagine now how deadly this disease was, and how miraculous such a simple cure would seem to those suffering from it. Tree of Life, indeed.
Topically, the plant is beneficial as a wash for wounds and skin irritations such as fungal infections. Traditionally, cedar has been used on warts and cold sores.The Eclectics used cedar for ulcers, bed sores, mouth sores, varicose veins and gangrene.  Some First Nations communities would dry and powder the leaves to use as a poultice for skin conditions.
Cedar is a scared plant to Native Americans and is used for medicinal, household and ceremonial purposes.  Traditionally, the Algonquin used an infusion of the leaves to give to children with colic. The Abnaki, Algonquin and Iroquois treated rheumatic complaints with topical applications of the plant. The wood was used for canoe slats and ribs. The bark was used for weaving and cordage. Leaves were used in steam baths and burned to fumigate living spaces and as incense fore ceremonial purposes. The tree was worshipped and revered for it usefulness.(3)
Incorporating cedar into your home apothecary is easy. The plant is soluble in water, alcohol and oil. Leaves can be harvested with the proper tools and care and dried for use as a simple tea. Keep your tea covered while steeping to prevent the volatile oils from escaping. I love adding cedar to my baths in the winter time for the warming, circulatory stimulating and mild pain relieving properties. Cedar foot baths are lovely too. I simmer a few good handfuls of leaves in a pot on the stove for about 20 minutes or so and strain the decoction into my bathwater or foot bath. As an herbal steam, cedar is wonderfully aromatic and helpful in breaking up sinus and chest congestion. To prepare, crush a handful of leaves into a large bowl and pour boiling water over the leaves. Being careful to not burn yourself, position your head over the bowl and cover both your head and the bowl with a large towel. Gently breathe in the steam. Pine and fir needles are a nice addition to this steam as are a few drops of essential oils such as eucalyptus, tea tree, rosemary, sage etc. Try regular applications of a cedar tincture on warts and fungal infections. Take small doses in hot water at the onset of a cold or flu. Cedar infused oil smells great and is also useful for fungal issues and other skin irritations. Making your own smudge sticks from cedar is easy. I use them at the start of my yoga practice and throughout the day to help focus my attention and shift my mood. Simply being near cedar has benefits too, especially for people with heart disease. Diana Beresford-Kroeger writes that, on a warm summer’s day, “the trees will release fenchone and both alpha and beta-thujone into the immediate environment. These chemicals are strong cardiac muscle stimulants and will help the heart in its pumping function…White cedar also produces camphene and camphor, which are broncholdilators and improve the breathing of all those suffering from chronic lung problems.”
The next time you pass that plain cedar hedge, stop a moment to admire a bough, scratch and sniff a leaf and inhale the essential oils and perhaps bring some home and get to know this scared plant.
Occasional, moderate use of this plant can be very beneficial, but because of the thujone content, cedar should not be used in excessive amounts for prolonged periods of time and is best avoided by pregnant and breastfeeding women.
For folks living on the West coast, Western Red Cedar (Thuja plicata) has similar uses.
Avoid harvesting from areas high in pollution and contamination and do not harvest from private property without permission.
Sources:
(1) Arboretum America: A Philosophy of the Forest, Diana Beresford-Kroeger
(2) Ancestral Plants: A Primitive Skills Guide to Important Edible, Medicinal, and Useful Plants of the Northeast Vol. I, Arthur Haines
(3) Native American Ethnobotany: Daniel E. Moerman

Photos:
http://pixabay.com/en/thuya-hedge-tree-of-life-thuja-10508/
http://pl.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C5%BBywotnik_zachodni

This summer’s series of plant walks wrapped in September with an amazingly impressive wild potluck feast. It was wonderful to see all the dishes and drinks creatively made with a variety of foraged ingredients.
With the cooler weather here and snow inevitably on its way, it’s time to move indoors. All through the fall and winter I offer workshops in my home, on a variety of subjects and themes relating to herbal medicine.

​I kicked off workshop season last Saturday with Herbs for the Musculoskeletal System. We had a full house with 12 lovely participants and one adorable baby.

I love those moments after a workshop ends and I sit down feeling exhausted but also wound up and kind of high and just ever so grateful to have been given another opportunity to share simple, practical information on how people can use the healing plants that are growing around them for medicine in the home. I find myself offering up a wordless prayer of thanks to the plants and asking for the grace and wisdom to do right by them, while recommitting to the journey of learning and deepening my knowledge and understanding of the material that I share with others.
If that sounds a little flaky, so be it. I don’t think you can go too far down the herbal garden path without leaving at least a little room open for flower fairies and plant spirits. It gladdens the heart and in no way interferes with my ability to understand the immune stimulating activity of water-soluble polysaccharides in plants or the connection between the bitter taste, T2R receptors, the vagus nerve and digestive health. At a certain point everything dissolves into mystery anyway; something profound and inexplicable. In the meantime I’m happy to explore what is knowable and not-so-knowable with both my brain and my heart.
But I digress. What I wanted to tell you about is that all the dates and details for my workshops this fall and winter are up and available for you to check out here.

My workshops focus on easy to find, local, weedy plants that you can harvest yourself and make into simple remedies to support health and wellness. I always emphasize how good food, proper nutrition and healthy movement are foundational to health. I have a bias towards wild foods, nature awareness and walking and I’ll talk about all these things before I even get to the plants. I want people to use their senses to experience the herbs so I will invite you to taste, smell and feel plants in all their forms. This is whole plant medicine and it’s organoleptic learning. Sometimes it’s messy. I’ll probably tell you you’re throwing your money away on expensive tablet and capsule supplements (although I do believe there is a therapeutic time and place for these.)  I’ll encourage you to grow and gather your own medicine, but I’ll also show you how to choose quality herbal products in the health food store. I’ll ask you to make ethical choices (no wildcrafted goldenseal or echinacea please) and I’ll go on about the benefits of supporting local, small-scale herb growers and wildcrafters (full disclosure: I am one!) I’ll do my best to deepen your herbal knowledge beyond a ‘this herb, for that condition’ model that simply substitutes herbs for drugs. This can work sometimes, but it’s really hit or miss and doesn’t even come close to the kind of bone deep, whole body healing that is possible when you treat the person, not the disease and you know how to match the right herb with the right person. (The last 3 workshops cover this material in particular.) In my workshops there will always be tea and snacks! There’s handouts, lots of resources, and sometimes a little something else for you to take home to add to your apothecary. The groups are small, cozy and really friendly. I love the folks who come out and I think you will too.
Here are the upcoming dates and topics. They are $30 each. If you are a CSA member you can attend for free (although there is $5 materials fee). If you would like to attend more than one, get in touch with me directly for a discount.
November 15th Herbs for the Respiratory System
December 6th Herbs for the Female Reproductive System
January 24th Herbs for the Digestive System
February 21st The Tastes of Herbs
March 21st The 6 Tissue States
April 25th Intro to Constitutional Theory
Oh and you know what my favourite thing is about hosting workshops? I can guarantee that at least once a month my place will be thoroughly cleaned! So please come out and give me a reason to dust.