Hello friends,
How can I stretch time? I wasn’t sure what to share in this August newsletter. (I have some class announcements below, if you’d like to skip to that.) My goal is to send out a missive once a month, mainly because this practice makes me feel tethered to something that existed pre-baby. I spend so much time with a tiny non-verbal human and writing this newsletter allows me to practice my words. What is it that I am actually feeling when I am not caring for an infant? What do I say when I am not cooing at a little baby with the face of the full moon? I joked with Dan that I wanted to write a newsletter that would list all of the medicines I would like to be making at this particular point in the harvest season if I had the time to do them. I’ve got a rather long list. Some of those things include: harvesting & pickling wild grape leaf for dolma making, cutting down the dried mullein stalks to make hag’s torches, stringing rowan berries to hang in the home. “Hi All! Here’s the stuff I wish I had time for!”
The gems of the season feel particularly sweet this summer, especially when they are just out of reach. Some things will get done, others won’t. In a rare moment alone while trying to untangle some thoughts, I find that I don’t actually have much to articulate. All that is arising for me is the feeling of complete intimacy in the small, rich details of the harvest season. So much feels so precious. So much I would like to preserve in a jar and place in the pantry. A garden full of ripe roma tomatoes on a thick, humid afternoon. A linen-smooshed baby cheek after a long nap. Vibrant gladiolas spearing the bright blue sky. Tiny baby fingers sinking into a juicy peach. Dark grapes turning sweet on the vine in the back pasture. The fern-like shadows of the black walnut tree in the yard. Goldenrod, everywhere, in the ditches. Small exclamations of soft delight while watching the starlings roost in the tree canopy each evening. Maybe there isn’t so much to do, but more to stretch into.
To bend into time, I offer a recipe for thyme-infused honey. I fully recognize the incoming pun, but thyme does play with time. Tasting thyme, smelling thyme, touching thyme, all slows us down. This plant moves us out of the linear perspective and into a greater sense of spaciousness. Maybe the to-do list doesn’t feel as important. There is something about the oils of this plant that give pause. This plant asks us to lean in close to see the intricacies of their tiny leaves, to get close to the earth to see how they cover the ground, humming with bees. Thyme encourages us to take a deep breath. Stretch the space between each rib. We can quiet down enough to sense how the light of the season is beginning to shift. The fullness of the season can also be preserved in the body, through the fiery taste of thyme and the touch of sticky, golden honey.
I'm offering a double-boiler method, because I actually prefer making infused honey this way rather than just stuffing herbs into a jar and letting it all sit together. This is, for the most part, because I am immensely lazy and never end up straining my honey after it has been sitting for a while. Know thyself. The double boiler method allows a shorter infusion time and means I will actually strain the herbs out of the honey. It is also the best method for making a honey infusion with fresh herbs, you don't have to worry too much about additional moisture from the plants just stewing in the honey.
THYME~INFUSED HONEY:
Gather one or two cups of fresh thyme. If you want a stronger honey (& more medicinal for approaching cold & flu season), go with more thyme! Using a double boiler, place the thyme into the top chamber and cover with honey. Stir. You want the thyme to be completely covered, but not drowning in honey. I find that no more than a half inch of honey over the plant material tends to do the trick. Bring the water in the lower chamber to a boil, and stir regularly for about 4-5 min to make sure the honey isn’t getting too hot. No bubbles should form in the honey! But we do want the honey warm to the touch. Remove from heat, cover the pot and let it all sit together overnight. The next day, remove the lid and wipe off any condensation with a clean dishtowel. Repeat this process for the following two days. On the third day, after you have warmed the honey, strain through a fine sieve into a jar. Enjoy in any way you enjoy your honey, but this is particularly delightful in a cup of strong black tea or drizzled onto roasted veggies.
May the sweetness of the season linger!
xx Liz
