Hungary Water: Part 2

March 21, 2022 • No Comments

This is the continuation of this blog describing the recipe and my first try at recreating Hungary Water. I left the test batches to steep for about three months. I waited some months more to let the scents settle down and blend.

My first observation is that volume is important. By the time I strained the vegetable matter from my test batches, I didn’t get much yield—maybe half a cup per jar. The results were also very concentrated. When I do this again, I’m going to use at least a quart-sized container and more liquid.

The rosemary scent dominates the results, but that could be because it was the one element that was home grown and therefore freshest. All three bases initially overpowered the scent of the herbs but calmed down with time. The witch hazel version was fairly raunchy when it first brewed but is now the most pleasant of the three. It is a nice addition to a bath and as a facial astringent. I used the cider vinegar version (diluted) to rinse my hair after shampooing it. This is an excellent way to add scent and shine, but please be careful with color-treated hair as the vinegar can be drying. The vodka version was my least favorite. It killed some stubborn weeds in the driveway and probably any other living entity within five yards. I’m pretty sure the driveway glows after dark and the raccoons are building a bomb shelter.

My honest assessment is that a) a greater liquid volume would create a better balance of scents, b) the combination of herbs could possibly be simplified, and c) I need to do more research into a good liquid base for this purpose. The witch hazel is acceptable, but I’d like to keep exploring.

Bottom line: this experiment opened the door to some interesting possibilities for more research and experimentation.

Love, Hate, and Severed Heads – the Secret Life of Basil

February 20, 2022 • 1 Comment

Basil Many herbs have stories, and basil has more than most. The name derives from the Greek basileus, which means kingly or royal. Associated with love potions, angry monsters, and tales of romantic tragedy (and decapitation), basil’s legend goes far beyond pesto.

Basil is associated with the masculine, Mars, fire, and Scorpio. It is a culinary herb and also a strewing herb, valued for its scent. As an inhalant, it stimulates the intellect. As an incense, it invokes the presence of astral and mythological creatures and gives strength to pursue positive expansion, releasing fear associated with spiritual growth. Traditional health uses vary. It is used in folk medicine to treat fevers, and there is some investigation being done on treatment for herpes-related conditions like shingles.

Basil is used cosmetically for brightening the complexion. Sweet basil oil (Ocimum basilicum) is used in perfumes and also in a scalp massage to stimulate healthy hair growth.

According to the Ancient World—or at least the Greco-Roman segment thereof—basil was associated with anger and insanity. Perhaps this comes from its association with scorpions, salamanders, and also the basilisk, a dragon-esque creature that could kill with a glare. Given all the cranky crawlies, it’s a good thing basil was reputed to draw the poison from venomous bites.

It’s hard to say when the humble herb moved from angry lizards to love potions, but by the Middle Ages a sprig of basil became a love token and a means of attracting wealth. It was also said to have grown at the site of Christ’s crucifixion—further evidence of its ability to repel evil—and in some regions was planted on graves. In India, holy basil (Tulsi) is used for purification and protection.

Basil’s twin spirits of love and hate twine together in Giovanni Boccaccio’s Decameron, a 14^th Century collection of Italian tales. Many know the story from John Keats’s 1818 poem retelling the story. In a nutshell (or herb pot), lovely young Isabella is destined for an advantageous marriage but falls in love with a handsome servant named Lorenzo. Furious, her brothers murder the young man. Guided by the ghost of her dead lover, Isabella digs up his body, chops off his head, and buries it in a pot of basil. There, she can water it with her tears and waste away in fine tragic fashion.

For such a grim tale, it inspired a wealth of lovely pre-Raphaelite art, like this painting by William Holman Hunt.

Common garden basil is native to India and flowers in high summer. I’ve never found basil easy to grow indoors. It loves heat, but not too much; rich soil, but not too much richness; and exactly the right amount of water. A bright windowsill is good, but be careful not to introduce other plants nearby. I had a thriving pot of globe basil until I left a planter of cat grass beside it just long enough to deposit a swarm of pesto-loving aphids. The best home-grown basil I ever saw lived in a compost box beneath a tent of plastic that kept the cold dew off the leaves. There, the plants grew to a Jurassic size I’ve never been able to replicate.

Check this blog for my pesto recipe.

IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: herbal medicines should be prepared and taken under the supervision of a trained professional (and that does not include me or this blog).

References:

I consulted quite a few sources for this blog, but here are the main ones:

Easley, Thomas, and Steven Horne. The Modern Herbal Dispensatory. Berkeley, California: North Atlantic Books, 2016.

Beyerl, Paul. The Master Book of Herbalism. Blaine, Washington: Phoenix Publishing Inc., 1984.

Grieve, Mrs. M. A Modern Herbal. London: Tiger Books International, 1992.

Cunningham, Scott. Cunningham’s Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs, 2^nd edition. Woodbury, Minnesota Llewellyn Publications, 2020.

Rose, Jeanne The Aromatherapy Book: Applications & Inhalations Berkeley, California, 1992

Vervain: the Enchanter’s Plant

March 16, 2021 • 4 Comments

Forget using stinky old garlic against vampires. The Vampire Diaries ushered in a new era of preternatural pest control with vervain, making a plot device from a relatively common herb long associated with warding off unwanted magic.

Curiosity prompted me to take a closer look at this plant, and what I found piqued my interest—especially since I feature herbalists in my upcoming books. Who doesn’t like a useful research rabbit hole?

Public Domain

Common names

Alternate names for vervain include enchanter’s plant, herb of the cross, and Juno’s tears. Some legends claim druids used it to purify their ritual waters. Others say Romans used bundles of vervain to cleanse their altars.

The Romans also called vervain herba sacra, or the “divine weed.” They believed it could cure the bites of all rabid animals, arrest the progress of venom, cure the plague, and avert sorcery. They even held verbenalia, a feast in the plant’s honor. Another name for vervain was herba veneris, so called because of the aphrodisiac qualities ascribed to it by the Ancients (presumably also the Romans).

Lore has it that vervain grew on the Mount of Calvary, where the faithful used it to staunch the wounds of the Saviour. For this reason, “Herb of Grace” is another popular name for vervain, although this term is also applied to rue.

This is the difficulty with studying herbs—proper plant identification is everything. Common names are confusing and using the wrong plant (especially in medications) could be hazardous.

Speaking of nomenclature, A Modern Herbal says the name vervain possibly comes from the Celtic languages, fer meaning “to drive away” and faen meaning “stone.” The name might reflect the herb’s early use in treating bladder ailments.

There are two kinds of vervain

Blue Vervain (Verbena hastata) is known as American vervain or false vervain and is native to North America. It has medicinal properties, but they are different from European vervain (Verbena officinalis), which is the kind I’m writing about here.

Verbena officinalis hails from the Mediterranean region and has escaped gardens to run wild in North America. This perennial likes roadsides and sunny pastures. It has white or lilac spiky flowers that bloom from June to October. Its stems are quadrangular and branch. The leaves grow in opposite pairs. It has little scent and a slightly bitter taste. When harvesting, pick the plant before it flowers and dry it immediately. Typically this happens in July, though this could vary with climate.

Don’t confuse these members of the verbena family with lemon verbena, an altogether different (and delightful) plant.

Uses of Vervain

Public Domain

Modern herbalists use Verbena officinalis as a stimulant, astringent, diuretic, nerve tonic, and fever medication. They employ it in the treatment of skin ailments and for depression following illness. It can be used as a tea to calm nerves and promote sleep or in a mouthwash against gum disease.

IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: herbal medicines should be prepared and taken under the supervision of a trained professional (and that does not include me or this blog).

But back to the paranormal stuff.

Magically (or Magickally, depending on your preference) speaking, vervain assists purification, protection, blessings, and communication with nature spirits. Ruled by Venus, vervain belongs to the earth element. A crown of vervain worn by the magician will protect against evil spirits. It is used in ritual incense for exorcism and in prosperity spells.

References

I never met an herbal dictionary I didn’t like, so I have a lot of them—some from when I was a teenager, some barely out the Amazon carton. I consulted quite a few books to put this post together, so this is just a short list of the main sources.