Herbal Time Travel...

     ....Memories flooded my mind as I sipped some lemongrass green tea. Quietly I was transported to a time and place from over twenty years ago in my herbal experiences.  An herb farm that is no longer in business was once a favorite happy place for me.  Homemade salves and teas were created at that green sanctuary.  Herbal oils, tinctures, and herbal toilet waters were part of the offerings.  There was always a class or two happening that shared herbal crafting moments of joy.  Discovering trinkets, pottery specialties was part of the fun at that herb farm.  Not only did they sell precious herb plants, but bulk dried herbs were for sale also.  Woody garden aromas permeated the atmosphere of the herb shop and farm greenhouse.  Light buzzing of bees indicated the business of pollinators steadily at work.  Butterflies flitted throughout the gardens.  Everywhere birds could be heard chirping their cheerful conversations to each other.  Homemade cookies and a cup of freshly brewed tea gave one a chance to stop and meditate on the quiet and slower garden life that was there for anyone to take in.                                                                                                                                 My memories went even deeper as I recalled thinking then about childhood visits with family and their gardens. Dandelion wine, rose potpourri, lilac toilet water, honeysuckle, sage dressing for wild game, roasted root vegetables, wonderful homemade preserves and jellies, fruit pies of all kinds...how did we take it all in?  Part of the ritual of the visit was that of being allowed to look through my great grandmother's jewelry box.  The same modest collection of brooches and bracelets were there as always.  Somehow it was necessary for me to see those bits of special memorabilia each time I visited. Great Grandma promised the few pieces to me when I was old enough to know what they were. 

 I had asked for two brooches.  One was a large Victorian piece that sported a purple stone. I was never sure if it was an amethyst or simply purple glass, but it didn't matter.  It was Great Grandma's brooch and that was all that truly mattered.  The other brooch was a hand-painted button, oval in shape, about the size of half of a fifty cent piece.  A delicate pink flower bud was depicted on a stem of pale green and blue.  A faint border of what seemed to be forget-me-nots surrounded the pale pink flower.  Having come to this country when she was sixteen, my great grandmother had been given that brooch by her mother. The family didn't have much money to spend on such fancy things, but they knew how to create such specialties for each other.  Eventually I passed the brooch to my cousin's youngest daughter as a wedding present. Along with the gift I wrote the history of the brooch for her. The whole family cried when they learned of the special heritage of the brooch.  Gosh, I didn't mean to make everyone cry, but obviously the story touched home for everyone.                             Memories, memories...a rich heritage that should be written down so that they won't be forgotten.  Each generation needs those colors, aromas, flavors to feel connected to their family roots.  And who would have thought I could get all that out of just a cup of tea?...