China Bayles' Book of Days (39 page)

She put her arms around him,

As about a tree the sweet woodbine twists Encircling and entwining. . . .

Unfortunately, things don’t work out very happily in the end, because Cressida betrays Troilus.

Still, the honeysuckle was clearly alluring and definitely delightful. Hence herbalist William Bullein, in his
Book of Simples
(1562) wrote:

Ah, how swete and pleasaunt is Woodbinde, in woodes or arbours, after a tender soft rayne; and how frendly doth this herb imbrace the bodies, armes, and braunches of trees.

There was, however, another side to the story—the tree’s side. The poet William Cowper warns:

As Woodbine weds the plant within her reach, Rough elm or smooth-grain’d ash, or glossy beech . . .

But does a mischief while she lends a grace, Slackening its growth by such a strict embrace.

“Does a mischief” as she “weds”? Well, yes, of course the honeysuckle can do mischief, as any observant gardener knows. In
The Englishman’s Flora,
Geoffrey Grigson remarks: “Woodbine, honeysuckle, hugs more like a killing snake than a friend, often squeezing saplings into a spiral.”

So perhaps Chandler’s line does make sense, after all. In
Double Indemnity,
Barbara Stanwyck plays the role of a dangerous femme-fatale, seducing and entwining and eventually strangling the soul of love-struck, sappy Fred MacMurray, whom she persuades to do murder for her.

Yes, indeed. “Murder can sometimes smell like honeysuckle.” And honeysuckle, sweet, sweet honeysuckle, can sometimes smell like murder.

Read the mystery:

Double Indemnity,
by James M. Cain

JULY 6

The rarity and novelty of this herb, being for the most part but in the gardens of great persons, doth cause it to be of great regard.

—JOHN PARKINSON, A GARDEN OF PLEASANT FLOWERS, 1629

Santolina

Santolina is one of those plants you may have to look up twice, since some people call it “lavender cotton,” and others call it by the first of its Latin binomials:
Santolina chamaecyparissus.
(It’s a little hard to get your tongue around the second part of its name, isn’t it?) It is a small, silvery perennial with lavenderlike foliage, although its scent is more like wormwood than lavender. Planted close and sheared, it forms a dense, compact, foot-high hedge.

It was the hedging habit of this plant, newly imported from the Mediterranean, that made it so valuable to sixteenth-century English gardeners. They were looking for plants they could use to create the intricate knot gardens that had become popular among the wealthy: a geometric pattern outlined in a low, carefully-clipped hedge of box, lavender, germander, rosemary, or santolina. Of these, santolina was favored, for it grows slowly, is bushy from the base, and is hardier than most of the others. It traveled to Virginia with the wealthy Cavaliers, whose knot gardens imitated those in England, and made itself at home here in America.

We don’t plant knot gardens much these days; we no longer employ platoons of gardeners trained to plant, prune, trim, and snip. But we still have santolina. Mine is unruly, for I confess to never having trimmed it; it is growing untidily, but happily, against a dry stone wall, and the yellow flowers that those long-ago British gardeners so carefully trimmed away are bursting into golden bloom. It’s handy to have as a moth repellent, the bees enjoy it, and it is a pretty accent in small wreaths of dried plants.

Mostly, though, it is just pretty, an interesting reminder that garden fashions come and go, but that plants come and stay.

Read more about the design of small formal gardens:
Knot Gardens and Parterres: A History of the Knot Garden and How to Make One Today,
by Robin Whalley

Cresses, mustard, radish, and other small sallad herbs may now be sown. . . . If a constant supply of these small salleting herbs be wanting, a little of the seed should be sown once every week.

—THE GARDENERS KALENDAR, 1777

JULY 7

By eleven thirty, I had finished planting the flower bed, transplanted a half dozen gray wooly pillows of lamb’s ears into various empty spaces, and broke apart several clumps of thyme, replanting them along the path with the creeping phlox and sweet alyssum, where they could spill onto the gravel.

—WITCHES’ BANE: A CHINA BAYLES MYSTERY

Lamb’s-Ears: Surprise!

In the Victorian language of flowers, lamb’s-ears (
Stachys byzantina
) meant surprise—and no wonder. When you bend to touch this lovely little plant, you’ll find that it is as soft and supple as gray velvet. Once used as a poultice and wound bandage and first cousin to the medicinal betony (
Stachys officinalis
), it can soothe a garden cut. And it’s charming in the garden, too, although it has a disconcerting tendency to die out in the center after it stretches up to its full height (about 18 inches) and puts up lavender bloom stalks. Plant it in the driest part of your garden, for it is native to the dry, rocky hills of Turkey and Iran. Let it reseed (it loves to do this), and you will be surprised at the delightful little clumps of lamb’s-ears that will appear.

A SILVER WREATH

But lamb’s-ears is at its most charming in a silvery garden wreath. You can purchase various wreath forms at craft stories—my favorite is an eight-inch loosely-woven vine wreath into which I can easily insert plant stems. Make a hanging tie for the back of the wreath. In the garden, choose stems of silver, gray, and gray-green plants: artemisias “Silver King,” “Silver Queen,” and “Powys Castle,” lavender, pussytoes, statice, speedwell, wooly oregano, yarrow, santolina, and lamb’s-ears. Place your wreath form flat, insert the plants’ stems into it in a decorative pattern that suits you, and add a silver bow. Let it dry flat for a few days, then hang. Make one for yourself and one as a surprise gift for a friend, who will be just as charmed by those lamb’s-ears as you are.

Read more about wreathmaking:

Country Living Handmade Wreaths,
by Arlene Hamilton Stewart

When a toad crosses the road on a summer afternoon, rain is at hand.

—TRADITIONAL WEATHER LORE

JULY 8

Today is the feast day of St. Elizabeth of Portugal, known as the Peacemaker. She is often depicted with an olive branch, a symbol of peace. In some calendars, today is also the beginning of the Celtic Tree Month of Holly (see December 3).

The necessary ingredients of civilization are wine and olive oil.

—ANCIENT SAYING

The Legendary Olive

In Greek and Roman mythology, the olive was the symbol of Athena, and of the city of Athens. In fact, Athens was named for Athena in a competition between Athena and Poseidon, each of whom gave a gift to humankind. Because of its oil, its fruit, and its wood, Athena’s olive tree, emblematic of domestic industry and peaceful agriculture, was judged to be of greater use to the people than Poseidon’s horse, which represented conquest and war. The oil was used to anoint the statues of the gods, priests and kings, and Olympic athletes. Throughout the Mediterranean region, an olive branch hung over a door is supposed to keep out devils, witches, and other evil spirits.

In Egypt, it was believed that Isis, goddess of fertility, had taught humans how to extract oil from olives. Olive branches were placed in the tombs of the pharaohs and olive oil was applied to their mummies. The oil was used in cosmetics and in medicine, where it was used to treat everything from kidney and chest complaints to fevers, plague, and dropsy.

THE HEALTHY OLIVE

The beneficial health effects of olive oil are due to its monounsaturated fatty acids and its antioxidants. Research has demonstrated that it protects against heart disease by controlling LDL (“bad”) cholesterol while increasing HDL (“good”) cholesterol. Olive oil has a beneficial effect on ulcers and gastritis, activates the secretion of bile and pancreatic hormones, and lowers the incidence of gallstone formation. If you’re using olive oil for health reasons, you want to purchase
extra virgin
oil, which is less processed and therefore contains higher levels of antioxidants, particularly vitamin E and phenols.

One important note: If you’re frying or sautéing food, use another oil. Excessive heat may cause olive oil to change into a “transfat,” negating most of its health benefits.

Read more about olives:

The Passionate Olive,
by Carol Firenze

JULY 9

Today is National Sugar Cookie Day.

C
is for cookie, it’s good enough for me; oh cookie cookie cookie starts with
C
.

—THE COOKIE MONSTER

Creative Herbal Sugar Cookies

I collect herbal cookbooks from herb guilds around the country. I love them because they exhibit the kind of creative cookery that herbs inspire. In honor of National Sugar Cookie Day, here are three sugar cookie recipes, dreamed up by creative cooks. Thanks, gals, for allowing me to share these!

CURRY COOKIES

1 cup butter or margarine
2 cups brown sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 eggs
1½ cups chopped walnuts
1½ cups whole-wheat pastry flour
1½ cups unbleached flour
½ teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
2 teaspoons curry powder
½ teaspoon salt

Preheat oven to 325°. Cream butter and sugar. Add the vanilla and eggs; continue to cream the mixture. Mix together the walnuts, flours, baking soda, baking powder, curry powder, and salt. Stir these dry ingredients into creamed mixture. Refrigerate until dough is chilled. Roll into a log and slice. Bake in preheated oven until golden.—Bettye Boone,
Collected Herbal Favorites

MINT BUTTER COOKIES

1½ cups flour
teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon baking powder
1 stick butter
²
/
₃
cup sugar
1 egg
2 tablespoons milk
4 tablespoons chopped fresh mint
¼ teaspoon vanilla

Cream butter, gradually add sugar and beat until fluffy. Add the egg, milk, and vanilla and beat thoroughly. Mix dry ingredients and chopped mint. Let dough chill overnight. Drop by teaspoonfuls 2 inches apart on greased cookie sheet. Bake at 350° for 10-12 minutes.—Calista Trembath,
Lemon Verbena Herbal Cookbook

To obtain these books, contact:
Lemon Verbena Herbal Cookbook
, Lemon Verbena Herb Society, 6049 Skyline Dr., East Lansing, MI 48823;
Collected Herbal Favorites,
The Herb Bunch, 205 Hermitage Road, Lexington, SC 29072.

JULY 10

To a Gallon of water put a quart of honey, about ten sprigs of Sweet-Marjoram; half so many tops of Bays. Boil these very well together, and when it is cold, bottle it up. It will be ten days before it is ready to drink.