A Pot Pourreee.

My camera is back! And so I went for a walk and finally took all the pictures of blossoming plants, including those in my garden, if only they hadn't.....sigh. Withered away. Heat has arrived, and nature is following its course into dry season, clear blue, sunny skies in an arid dusty environment with dried weeds and thistles everywhere, the picture one seems to have in mind when thinking of all Southern European countries. Soon nobody'll believe that there was a lush springtime with green yards, hip-high vegetation and flowers flowers flowers. Ah well, next year.

Here's proof that I did pick oregano. It's hanging in bundles to dry in my 'by-kitchen', a storage room or pantry next to my kitchen where I keep all our groceries and harvested products dry and cool (as cool as it might stay with 'natural cooling'; 60cm thick walls help).



In other news, I am currently brewing a magical potion a mixture of Chinese herbs for three hours to produce tea that hopefully raises my energy level by increasing my Xue (or blood), because that's what I lack according to the doc. Let's withstand to say that the concoction is a bit smelly, and I wouldn't be surprised if I'd find a crow's claw or a rat's tail in there.



While chuckling about the idea of a witch's pot in my kitchen, I'm at the same time thinking about the immense botanical and therapeutical knowledge the Chinese had and still have, and I cannot but wonder how much of that knowledge our Western civilization once possessed but successfully extinguished by sending all the wise women aka wicked witches to the stake.
It's a fascinating journey to learn about the edible and useful parts of plants - fruit, leaves, root or maybe even the stem- and how to prepare them for their different usages. Lots of books are written about the issue, and lots of hearsay is in the air. But I am sure there's so much more we once knew and have forgotten. Everyone still knows some customs of yore, such as the well-known effects plants like chamomile, sage, or mint have on our health, but even those plants had a much broader and more holistic spectrum of healing abilities once than we now commonly remember.
Aside from what I read I rarely hear from people about a plant's usage for wounds, or infections, or pain, or anxiety, or the opposite effect of using it as an extract against insects, lice, worms, and other unwanted creatures, and when I do, it's always elder people telling me. In our time of ready-for-use medicine people seem to have forgotten even the obvious and treatments that were common amongst our grandmothers have been replaced by their pharmaceutical equivalents; cos it's obviously less elaborate to buy the ready stuff from the drug store than taking your time to collect and prepare herbs.
I am surely not questioning the value of modern medicine and science, but I think people are popping pills too easily where more natural therapies and ancient medicines could heal the body (or soul) more gentle, often without any (long-term) side effects.



Yanni still remembers the poor times during the junta when they ate the little 'breads' or 'cheeses' of the Dwarf Mallow (Malva neglecta) as a substitute for sweets and the fruit of the Carob Tree (Ceratonia siliqua) as chocolate.

Nic and Ric, the fatal duo.

I really, really regret not having my camera here right now. The garden is so intensely in bloom, it's a feast for the eyes with all the gaudy colors around.
The calendulas are bright orange, and next to it there's a succulent plant with thousands of cyclam blossoms, followed by a geranium in bright red. Ah. So beautiful. My white rose is in a romantic mood; her flowers have started blushing recently. And the huge blue German irisses (growing wild on the island, but I redirected them into my garden) are producing flower after flower (an actually amazing process; the flowers open, stay a day or two, then sag away, while the next one underneath it is on its way up, leaving behind a crumbled parachute with a rather large seed on its end. Yes, I'd show you, if only I had my camera.....argh. Can you become addicted to a camera? No need to answer: Rhetorical question.)

But despite this prosperous description I wasn't born a gardener and more accurately haven't been one for the first, uhm, thirty-something years of my life, so I'm still prone to many mistakes. Here's what happened:

Last year all of my newly planted fruit trees and shrubs died of numerous reasons, the drought, the salty water, the monilia disease our old almond tree developed, and so on.
Because my garden is very open on two sides, I'd like to grow some huge plants to at least cover the insight a bit, so dirty old nosy neighbours won't get all improperly excited when I'm lying there on my camp bed reading a book about, let's say, 12th century monastic poetry, or so (it happened, believe me; the former, I mean).

Anyway, a year ago a plant started growing rapidly in my garden, that had gummy blueish-grey green leaves and small trumpet-like yellow flowers.



I liked it, but it stood next to our lemon tree, so I replanted it a bit towards the center of the garden. All fine, the plant grew quickly, being green and flowering all year round. I still like it. But we had no idea what it was. I googled it, I called in my classification books, nothing.

Next case: Last year, I saw a beautiful tree with red, green and bronze colored palmate leaves and prickly, reddish round fruits. It reminded me of a kind of sycamore tree, or a maple tree, but looking for it was as fruitless as the one before. It sure was neither of it.



The seeds I collected from that tree were beautifully marbled, and I managed to grow three trees out of them.



One is planted right next to our veranda now, the other two are growing in large buckets, awaiting their final destination, as we haven't finished shifting the soil in our garden, building walls and generally doing work where a newly planted tree would literally stand in our way.

Now comes the surprise! I recently bought a book (the one book, I should say) about the flora and fauna of my island. And bingo!, both trees were in there: Number one is Nicotiana glauca, or the tree tobacco (no, they don't make cigarettes of it), the second one is called Ricinus communis, or the castor oil plant (yes, where castor oil is made of).
All fine with you? Seems like I got me some trees with fab names and interesting agrocultural value? Sure do.
But please guess: What is wrong with them? Hm?

Yes! They are both highly poisonous for creatures of whatever kind, thank you! Nic and Ric, the fatal duo. Can't miss with a newbie like me.

The price for most poisonous plant goes to Ricinus, as he's equipped with irritating leaves, highly poisonous seeds (eating 1-3 seeds can kill a child, 8 seeds a grown up), and is generally so dangerous for everything that I wonder how we have survived so far. We, that's me, and hubby, the four dogs, the ten cats and Mr. Hedgehog's family. Not to mention all the birds or insects.

So, what about Nic and Ric? Does this mean I have to rip them out?
I don't know. I'm torn, because they look so beautiful, and are easy to maintain, and quick in growth. And Ric is known to keep the snakes away, while Nic does the same with (unwanted) flying insects.
The dogs are in kennels. My cats usually don't nibble on new plants. And I believe that they instinctively know which plants are edible and which are not, although the ability of that remains a miracle to me. They eat catmint and a flower, whose huge orange blossoms are good for their stomachs, nothing else.
What do you think? Shall I stay cool and look more relaxed at the matter?