pennyroyal days

After three years of living in Northern California, I have not adapted to the weather patterns. Don't get me wrong: I love it here. Have I not made that clear? I love having four real seasons, I love the rain and the sun, I love the green and the gold, I love the rivers and streams, and having the ocean less than an hour away, and almost never seeing snow -- I have no intention of ever leaving this place, if I have any say in the matter. 

But the weather is weird. 

This time last year, it was so hot I could hardly stand to sleep with a sheet. We went swimming in the lake almost every day, just for survival. I worked in the garden as early as possible in the morning because the heat was unbearable by breakfast. I worried that my chickens would drop dead from heat exhaustion. This year, though?

Yes, that's smoke pouring from our woodstove. In July. Frigid and foggy: that's our weather right now. We have a metal roof and most nights I lay awake listening to what sounds like a landslide pouring over the side of the house. That's not rain -- just condensation dripping off the leaves of the madrone tree. Like I said, weird weather.

But I'm not complaining. This is perfect hiking weather, after all, and at any moment I can walk out my front door and hike wherever I please, with Tuna as the perfect companion, ranging far ahead of me on the lookout for bears or snakes or lions (you never know).

Certainly there are days when I feel exasperated with the limitations of this cabin -- like this morning, when all I wanted in the world was a shower that didn't veer from freezing cold to blistering heat in two seconds. But when I step out onto the deck and see unpolluted wildness in every direction, I can't feel anything but blessed.

It's very likely that we'll never be able to buy land here, or build our own house, but I'm adapting to that reality, without bitterness. I'm not sure why I was so fixated on that for so long. Maybe because owing a mortgage payment seems like a very adult thing. Count me an eternal adolescent if you like, but I find no inspiration in the concept of buying a house in town. I love that there are very few signs of human influence on this landscape. I like seeing my chickens range as far as they like without neighbors bitching about it. I crave the isolation of this place, the true dark, the silencing of industrial activity, the deeper movement of the Earth's rhythms. 

"...I need the darkness / Someone please cut the lights..."

Certainly one of the more amazing things about this place is all the food and medicine that just grows wild here. In any direction I might see wild plums, chicory, fennel, fig, wild rose, plantain, pennyroyal, lemon balm, several species of mint, woodsy wild carrots, mushrooms, berries, walnuts, St. John's wort, bay, amaranth, the seedy renegade grapes dropped by birds after vineyard visits... and those are just the plants I can identify.

In any season I can forage here, whether it's in these thousands of unsettled acres or the median strips of a Walmart parking lot. And it's always a trip for me, finding something I can steep or smoke or eat or tincture without interference. It's a feeling of pure joy, communicating with the land in this way, giving and receiving in kind.

St. John's wort steeping in oil. Good for cuts, scrapes, sunburn, neuralgia, and inflammation.

One of my favorite finds is pennyroyal, which my friend Kris identified for me last year. Pennyroyal has a long and hallowed history in herbal medicine, but it's fallen out of favor somewhat due to the toxicity of the essential oil and the plant's potential as an abortifacient. Still, it is a powerful medicine that is easy to identify and apply. Pennyroyal tea with honey is a very old cold remedy, and it's also useful for headaches. The herb may help to bring on latent menstruation, and insects detest the smell of pennyroyal.

The scent is unmistakable, minty and musky at the same time -- so heavy it makes my head spin. The stuff is growing like crazy out here right now and I smell it every time I open the door.

Please be aware that oil of pennyroyal is extremely toxic if ingested, even in small doses. I have some caution about applying pennyroyal to animals for this reason. I expect that pennyroyal has come to dominate the landscape here because it's one of the few forage plants the cattle won't eat. Tuna doesn't seem to have any trouble hiking with me through the fresh pennyroyal, but I am taking care not to leave the bottle lying around where he might chew on it.

I would not suggest using this spray on dogs, cats, chickens, or other companion animals, although you can leave out the pennyroyal and have a fine repellant that's safe for that purpose.

I am not a scientific herbalist, by which I mean that I rarely weigh or measure my ingredients or concern myself with standardization. When working with herbs I use some very basic measurements, otherwise it's all experimentation, and I can't say I've had it go awry; my remedies have never lacked potency.

I made a spray based on witch hazel because it's so cooling and soothing to the skin, but you could also make an infused oil by steeping the herbs in a neutral carrier oil (I usually use refined olive oil) for two weeks in the sun. Strain the herbs and melt a small bit of beeswax into the oil to make a semi-solid salve that's easy to rub into exposed skin. You can also use vodka if you don't have witch hazel, although the finished product might be a bit sticky.

Insects hate bay leaves, too.

Lemongrass or citronella is typical in bug repellants, but I wanted to stick with what I could gather myself, so I substituted lemon balm for the citrus scent; you can certainly add fresh lemongrass, or lemongrass or citronella essential oil, if you prefer. I will say that I rarely use essential oils myself. It takes pounds and pounds of fresh herbs to make an essential oil, and in most cases you can get plenty of medicinal activity from the whole plant. But if you have no access to fresh or high-quality dried herbs, essential oils work just fine to repel insects. 

Herbal Bug Repellant

1 heaping handful of pennyroyal

1 smaller handful of lemon balm

10 bay leaves

6-7 sprigs of rosemary

witch hazel, as needed

¼ c. filtered water

Snip the plants into a clean pint-sized Mason jar. Top with witch hazel to completely cover the plants, then screw on the lid and leave in a cool, dark place for six weeks.

Strain the herbs and add the water. Pour into a 16-ounce atomizer and spray on liberally before insect exposure. This repellant will stay fresh for at least two years.