Midsummer.

Midsummer to me means the sun’s warmth and blessings of the land.  I was harvesting red clover and I found a patch of wild strawberries (Fragaria vesca).  They were on a south facing stretch and I decided I deserved a break.  These small jewels are perfect bursts of flavour.  Warmed by the sun you feel you are eating like a queen.  Wild strawberries make me think of Stuart Little.  Perfectly mouse sized.

Wild strawberry goodness.

Midsummer marks the start of busy season for herbalists.  At least for those of us who harvest our own plants.  Walking today and I could see the to do list getting longer and longer with each step.  Elderflower almost but not quite, heal-all almost but not quite, St. John’s wort almost but not quite, yarrow almost but not quite, and etc.  I am one person.  The needs of my practice, my clients, the weather, my personal life, and etc all have to be balanced.  Red clover harvest today, but it is going to rain tomorrow.  Can’t harvest in the rain.

Wild strawberry leaves.

Aside from being limited by harvesting abilities you have to know how much you can process.  I make most of my tinctures from fresh plant material.  This takes time, and the clock starts the minute you cut the plant in the field.  I can and do dry plants for later use. That choice needs to be made immediately.  I can’t harvest a grocery bag of elder flowers, leave them til 3 days later, and then decide to dry them.  No.  I must make tincture immediately or put them to dry immediately.  Midsummer and the longest day of the year sees the list of chores lengthening and the day in which to accomplish them shortening.

Happy Father’s Day.

My father treats me as capable and competent.  Always has.  Always will.  I’ve roofed houses with my Dad.  I fish with my Dad.  I pick strawberries with my Dad.  In our house he is the jam maker.  As a woman the truth is that hardware stores sometimes ask me what I want a tool for.  The answer to the question do you have a 10-inch crescent wrench is either yes or no.  Today’s other chore is replacing the drive belt on our riding mower.  Not something I’ve done before.  I have the manual and I have the confidence my Dad has gifted to me.

Halfway to nowhere.

This chore was not a rousing success.  I do not lie on the internet.  The facts are – after a few hours of lying on the garage floor (hot and sweaty) I did remove the mower, replace the belt, and reinstalled the mower.  Now the blades won’t turn.  No blades turning – no cutting of the grass.  The success here is I never felt I couldn’t do it.  My Dad always believes in me.  Even when I don’t believe in myself.  Tomorrow it will rain and that will be the perfect day to tinker and figure it out.

Midsummer blessings to all.

Yes I was using a butter knife.