The Battlefield Story
This is the story of two brothers living near Glasgow in Mary Queen of Scots days, Phillip they said was fleet of foot, as fast as a horse, he could outrun any man and he boasted he could get to any place faster than anyone.
Heris the younger brother was slower and liked to take his time, slow as a hedgehog the other boys mocked, but his mother would say he took his time because he was careful and paid attention to everything going on around him.
It was nearing All Hallows eve and the mother asked the two brothers to take food to the Royal encampment at the meadow below their home, where a battle was brewing and Queen Mary was staying as she tried to flee her enemies. Once there the brothers paid the Queen their respects and offered to help in any way they could as their mother had bade them.
Now Mary was 26 miles from her home and her young son in Stirling castle, trapped as she was by pursuers and battles, and she missed her small son.She asked the two brothers to take him a message of love from his mother and bring back news of his welfare promising to pay a purse of gold for the messages safe delivery.Phillip the first boy boasted of his speed and made haste northwards, Heris the second decided to follow, to watch for his brothers safety and ensure the message found its way to its destination.
They hadn’t travelled more than an hour from Glasgow before Phillip was a good two miles ahead.
He ran through fields leaping hedges and ditches paying no mind to his surroundings.
He ran through a field of aniseed scented fennel, its soft feathery fronds bedraggled and drooping from lack of water, but he paid no mind and ran on and on,
He ran past the woods where the purple violets withered as the weeds overtook them, but he paid them no mind and ran on and on.
Knowing by now he was miles ahead, and drooping himself, from the days exertions he found the shelter of an elder tree. Now folklore told that Elder trees were as often as not the home to a witch, a pernickety witch who could decide to dislike you on the whim.
Phillip with his careless attitude paying no mind to the days auspicious date, had broken off branches as he slumped beneath the tree for a rest and it being Halloween the witch had taken offence.She waited for Phillip to be nicely relaxed and starting to snooze then she left her tree house and set about imprisoning him in a trance.
Meanwhile Heris the slower brother had found his way through the drooping field of fennel , and paying attention to its drooping state had stopped to water it, popping a few pieces of it aniseed flavored leaves in his backpack ‘just in case’; he’d walked past weed swamped violets and decide to weed a bit and make them some space and then popped a few flowers in his back pack ‘just in case’...and finally, slowly, he’d caught up with his brother, held in a trance by the witch beneath the elder tree.
Now all those times Heris had paid attention paid off, he knew at once from the tales he’d heard from his mother that fennel repel a witch and can revive a tired body, so waving the stalks at the scary figure, he placed them in his brothers hand for him to eat and broke the spell.
Then heeding the Queens instructions he kept slowly and steadily on until he finally reached Stirling castle, whereupon he was ushered into the nursery to see the child and his nursemaid.But a sorry sight met his eyes, the child was ill, coughing and spluttering in the grasp of an Autumn cold, the nursemaid was at a loss as to how to ease his sore chest and tickley cough. Again Heris’ observations paid off, he knew his mother’s cure for a cough and promptly handed her the violets, which soon started to brighten the infant up and clear his chest. The nursemaid in her gratitude parceled him up some food for his return journey in a soft silk scarf embroidered with the young princes initials and Heris satisfied his job was done made his way back to Langside.
Now with his brother saved from the witch, the Queens message delivered, the ill child helped you’d think our tale was done, but unfortunately on returning home what should Heris find but Phillip, Phillip had made his way back to the queen and boastful as ever was telling how he’d taken the message to Stirling castle and claiming the Queens bounty for the successful messenger for himself, but his boasting didn’t last long and his face soon fell as Heris arrived the monogrammed silk scarf waving in one hand and his tale of rescuing Phillip from the witch to tell everyone round the campfire that evening soon convinced everyone of his success! (c) Amanda Edmiston 2013
Notes
-Margaret of Atholl, the real ‘witch’ that this story is based on was said to have taken Mary Queen of Scotts labour pains away with witchcraft she was the sister of one of the ‘Four Mary’s’ a song taught to many children in schools until fairly recently, so this would be nice to sing. http://www.educationscotland.gov.uk/scotlandssongs/primary/genericcontent_tcm4555596.asp
Local song leader Cath Campbell and I led a workshop with adults at Finn's Place http://langsidechurch.co.uk/pages/wellbeing/Wellbeing.html we had a fantastic time exploring the history and legends behind the story and learning the two songs that accompany it. I received permission from the group to record this and you can hear us singing the Four Mary's here: _http://www.botanicafabula.co.uk/blog/2013/11/14/Battlefield-community-project-songs-and-stories.aspx
- Cath Campbell has also just taught me this The Witches Reel! It dates back to the period the story is set in http://sangstories.webs.com/witchesreel.htm
-Interesting fact! Marathon the Greek word means fennel or ‘field of fennel’....the Greek legend of Phiddipides who ran from the battlefield of Marathon literally a fennel field (before it became the town of marathon) to Sparta to ask for battle reinforcements....I wrote the story as a take on the tortoise and the hare, tying in herbal folklore, as Langside in Glasgow, site of the battle of langside, is 26 miles from Stirling castle where Lord darnley and Mary Queen of Scots child would have been during the battle....the community gardens absolutely full of fennel! Interestingly marathon is the Greek word for fennel, the dried seeds are easy to get and make a lovely digestive cup of tea...1 tsp of dried seeds to a mug of water…traditionally used to soothe sore eyes, help the digestion, and promote breast milk in new mothers!
-Southside herbalist Catriona Gibson has come on board to add input about traditional uses of the plants in the stories, she'll be joining us for a Spring workshop, which will be open to anyone who wants to attend but will also be ideal CPD for people wanting to include the spiral, its stories and other uses in there work.
In the meantime Catriona has written a lovely piece about the Battlefield story plants in her blog, which you can read here: http://whitecat-herbal.com/2013/10/07/elder-fennel-and-violet-tales-from-battlefield-gardens/
This is the story of two brothers living near Glasgow in Mary Queen of Scots days, Phillip they said was fleet of foot, as fast as a horse, he could outrun any man and he boasted he could get to any place faster than anyone.
Heris the younger brother was slower and liked to take his time, slow as a hedgehog the other boys mocked, but his mother would say he took his time because he was careful and paid attention to everything going on around him.
It was nearing All Hallows eve and the mother asked the two brothers to take food to the Royal encampment at the meadow below their home, where a battle was brewing and Queen Mary was staying as she tried to flee her enemies. Once there the brothers paid the Queen their respects and offered to help in any way they could as their mother had bade them.
Now Mary was 26 miles from her home and her young son in Stirling castle, trapped as she was by pursuers and battles, and she missed her small son.She asked the two brothers to take him a message of love from his mother and bring back news of his welfare promising to pay a purse of gold for the messages safe delivery.Phillip the first boy boasted of his speed and made haste northwards, Heris the second decided to follow, to watch for his brothers safety and ensure the message found its way to its destination.
They hadn’t travelled more than an hour from Glasgow before Phillip was a good two miles ahead.
He ran through fields leaping hedges and ditches paying no mind to his surroundings.
He ran through a field of aniseed scented fennel, its soft feathery fronds bedraggled and drooping from lack of water, but he paid no mind and ran on and on,
He ran past the woods where the purple violets withered as the weeds overtook them, but he paid them no mind and ran on and on.
Knowing by now he was miles ahead, and drooping himself, from the days exertions he found the shelter of an elder tree. Now folklore told that Elder trees were as often as not the home to a witch, a pernickety witch who could decide to dislike you on the whim.
Phillip with his careless attitude paying no mind to the days auspicious date, had broken off branches as he slumped beneath the tree for a rest and it being Halloween the witch had taken offence.She waited for Phillip to be nicely relaxed and starting to snooze then she left her tree house and set about imprisoning him in a trance.
Meanwhile Heris the slower brother had found his way through the drooping field of fennel , and paying attention to its drooping state had stopped to water it, popping a few pieces of it aniseed flavored leaves in his backpack ‘just in case’; he’d walked past weed swamped violets and decide to weed a bit and make them some space and then popped a few flowers in his back pack ‘just in case’...and finally, slowly, he’d caught up with his brother, held in a trance by the witch beneath the elder tree.
Now all those times Heris had paid attention paid off, he knew at once from the tales he’d heard from his mother that fennel repel a witch and can revive a tired body, so waving the stalks at the scary figure, he placed them in his brothers hand for him to eat and broke the spell.
Then heeding the Queens instructions he kept slowly and steadily on until he finally reached Stirling castle, whereupon he was ushered into the nursery to see the child and his nursemaid.But a sorry sight met his eyes, the child was ill, coughing and spluttering in the grasp of an Autumn cold, the nursemaid was at a loss as to how to ease his sore chest and tickley cough. Again Heris’ observations paid off, he knew his mother’s cure for a cough and promptly handed her the violets, which soon started to brighten the infant up and clear his chest. The nursemaid in her gratitude parceled him up some food for his return journey in a soft silk scarf embroidered with the young princes initials and Heris satisfied his job was done made his way back to Langside.
Now with his brother saved from the witch, the Queens message delivered, the ill child helped you’d think our tale was done, but unfortunately on returning home what should Heris find but Phillip, Phillip had made his way back to the queen and boastful as ever was telling how he’d taken the message to Stirling castle and claiming the Queens bounty for the successful messenger for himself, but his boasting didn’t last long and his face soon fell as Heris arrived the monogrammed silk scarf waving in one hand and his tale of rescuing Phillip from the witch to tell everyone round the campfire that evening soon convinced everyone of his success! (c) Amanda Edmiston 2013
Notes
-Margaret of Atholl, the real ‘witch’ that this story is based on was said to have taken Mary Queen of Scotts labour pains away with witchcraft she was the sister of one of the ‘Four Mary’s’ a song taught to many children in schools until fairly recently, so this would be nice to sing. http://www.educationscotland.gov.uk/scotlandssongs/primary/genericcontent_tcm4555596.asp
Local song leader Cath Campbell and I led a workshop with adults at Finn's Place http://langsidechurch.co.uk/pages/wellbeing/Wellbeing.html we had a fantastic time exploring the history and legends behind the story and learning the two songs that accompany it. I received permission from the group to record this and you can hear us singing the Four Mary's here: _http://www.botanicafabula.co.uk/blog/2013/11/14/Battlefield-community-project-songs-and-stories.aspx
- Cath Campbell has also just taught me this The Witches Reel! It dates back to the period the story is set in http://sangstories.webs.com/witchesreel.htm
-Interesting fact! Marathon the Greek word means fennel or ‘field of fennel’....the Greek legend of Phiddipides who ran from the battlefield of Marathon literally a fennel field (before it became the town of marathon) to Sparta to ask for battle reinforcements....I wrote the story as a take on the tortoise and the hare, tying in herbal folklore, as Langside in Glasgow, site of the battle of langside, is 26 miles from Stirling castle where Lord darnley and Mary Queen of Scots child would have been during the battle....the community gardens absolutely full of fennel! Interestingly marathon is the Greek word for fennel, the dried seeds are easy to get and make a lovely digestive cup of tea...1 tsp of dried seeds to a mug of water…traditionally used to soothe sore eyes, help the digestion, and promote breast milk in new mothers!
-Southside herbalist Catriona Gibson has come on board to add input about traditional uses of the plants in the stories, she'll be joining us for a Spring workshop, which will be open to anyone who wants to attend but will also be ideal CPD for people wanting to include the spiral, its stories and other uses in there work.
In the meantime Catriona has written a lovely piece about the Battlefield story plants in her blog, which you can read here: http://whitecat-herbal.com/2013/10/07/elder-fennel-and-violet-tales-from-battlefield-gardens/
We're planting a lovely red climbing rose….which we hope will clamber round and meet its sister a white shrub rose, when I was little one of my favourite stories was SNOW WHITE AND ROSE RED a classic retold by the brothers Grimm, and can be found in Andrew Laings 'Blue fairy book' which can be downloaded free for Kindle here: www.amazon.co.uk/The-Blue-Fairy-Book-ebook , the story can also be found here: www.surlalunefairytales.com/rosered , Sur la lune is a lovely resource with pretty illustrations and has many classic fairy stories on it.
Other stories featuring roses of course include, Sleeping beauty, Beauty and the beast and this lesser known lovely little story about a nightingale www.surlalunefairytales.com/authors/wilde/nightingale
Roses are often symbolic of love and are used in traditional medicine to open up emotions.
Making rosewater is something many of us did accidentally when we were little…and it really is as simple as stuffing a jar full of scented petals covering in water and straining once the water is infused.
As for songs…well at least one group I've worked with on this won't let a session go by without 'My love is like a red red rose: www.bbc.co.uk/arts/robertburns/works/my_luve_is_like_a_red_red_rose/
Other stories featuring roses of course include, Sleeping beauty, Beauty and the beast and this lesser known lovely little story about a nightingale www.surlalunefairytales.com/authors/wilde/nightingale
Roses are often symbolic of love and are used in traditional medicine to open up emotions.
Making rosewater is something many of us did accidentally when we were little…and it really is as simple as stuffing a jar full of scented petals covering in water and straining once the water is infused.
As for songs…well at least one group I've worked with on this won't let a session go by without 'My love is like a red red rose: www.bbc.co.uk/arts/robertburns/works/my_luve_is_like_a_red_red_rose/
THE SCOTTISH BED
The blue bird table planter has four plants in it these are clockwise from the top:
Mugwort : one of the plants recommended to the young women of Glasgow by the Mermaid of the Clyde…her original story is very hard to find, but a quote is commonly cited in plant histories and herbals, she is said to have proclaimed when consumption started to become widespread in the city:
'let them eat nettles in March and Mugworts in May and not so many young maidens would have gan to the clay'
Now I chose not to plant nettles…but I'm sure you can find plenty of these iron and mineral rich surprisingly tasty (in soups and teas) plants around the garden , but mugwort smells lovely and looks beautiful although whilst mugwort is edible it should be used advisedly and in very small amounts (pregnant women should avoid it). I filled in the gaps of the story of the Mermaid of the Clyde and wrote my own version of events surrounding her words of advice…you can hear it here on free MP3 about half way down my home page: http://www.botanicafabula.co.uk for more tips on cooking with nettles herbalist Catriona Gibson has shared a few of her recipes here: http://whitecat-herbal.com/2013/03/26/spring-herb-recipes/
Heather: Legend has it that in the 3rd Century, the thoughtful and kind hearted daughter of Ossian: Scotland’s legendary blind bard: Malvina , was betrothed to a heroic and just warrior named Oscar.
Tragically however Oscar died in battle, and upon hearing the news Malvina was left bereft and heartbroken. The messenger who brought the bad news, also delivered a spray of beautiful purple heather that Oscar had sent as a final token of his undying love for her.
It's said that when Malvinas' tears fell onto the flowers in her hand, the Ling turned white as the snow, so astonished was she at this magic that she gifted the heather this wish: 'although it is the symbol of my sorrow, may the white heather bring good fortune to all who find it.' Traditionally white heather or Ling has brought good luck to those that carry it, now whether or not this is true I could not say...but if you find some and only take a small piece maybe you could try it out and let me know, I’d love some ‘lucky heather stories of your own to add to the website! adaptation (c) Amanda Edmiston 2014
The blue bird table planter has four plants in it these are clockwise from the top:
Mugwort : one of the plants recommended to the young women of Glasgow by the Mermaid of the Clyde…her original story is very hard to find, but a quote is commonly cited in plant histories and herbals, she is said to have proclaimed when consumption started to become widespread in the city:
'let them eat nettles in March and Mugworts in May and not so many young maidens would have gan to the clay'
Now I chose not to plant nettles…but I'm sure you can find plenty of these iron and mineral rich surprisingly tasty (in soups and teas) plants around the garden , but mugwort smells lovely and looks beautiful although whilst mugwort is edible it should be used advisedly and in very small amounts (pregnant women should avoid it). I filled in the gaps of the story of the Mermaid of the Clyde and wrote my own version of events surrounding her words of advice…you can hear it here on free MP3 about half way down my home page: http://www.botanicafabula.co.uk for more tips on cooking with nettles herbalist Catriona Gibson has shared a few of her recipes here: http://whitecat-herbal.com/2013/03/26/spring-herb-recipes/
Heather: Legend has it that in the 3rd Century, the thoughtful and kind hearted daughter of Ossian: Scotland’s legendary blind bard: Malvina , was betrothed to a heroic and just warrior named Oscar.
Tragically however Oscar died in battle, and upon hearing the news Malvina was left bereft and heartbroken. The messenger who brought the bad news, also delivered a spray of beautiful purple heather that Oscar had sent as a final token of his undying love for her.
It's said that when Malvinas' tears fell onto the flowers in her hand, the Ling turned white as the snow, so astonished was she at this magic that she gifted the heather this wish: 'although it is the symbol of my sorrow, may the white heather bring good fortune to all who find it.' Traditionally white heather or Ling has brought good luck to those that carry it, now whether or not this is true I could not say...but if you find some and only take a small piece maybe you could try it out and let me know, I’d love some ‘lucky heather stories of your own to add to the website! adaptation (c) Amanda Edmiston 2014
THE HERB BED
LAVENDER
LAVINIA'S LAVENDER this is a story I developed for another project in 2013 'the lavender project' at Woodend barn arts centre in Banchory Aberdeenshire, the former home of Scotland's lavender industry:
The year was 1943 and as some of you may know Britain was at war, if you ask the older members of your family some of them may just remember it.
There were many shortages,everyone who had a garden grew their own food, young woman known as ‘land girls‘ went to help on farms as so many of the young men who had been working as farm labourers were away fighting in the war, and many things were rationed including fabric.
Now this is the story of a girl called Lavinia, she worked in a laundry, in those days before every home had a washing machine, the laundry had a vital role to play, they washed linen from big houses and hotels during peace time and soldiers uniforms and hospital bedding during the war, amongst many other things.
For many years the laundry had washed the linen and used lavender flowers to scent the wash water...indeed the word lavender comes from the french word lavare meaning to wash. Although lavender was harder to find during the war as the fields were used to grow crops of food, the scent of lavender fresh washing was still one that people remembered and loved.
~Indeed love is a word associated with lavender rather a lot.
Legend had it that if you drank an infusion of lavender (a spoonful of flowers steeped in boiling water and strained and the liquid sipped like a tea) on the 18th of October: St Luke’s day and said the rhyme:
‘St Luke, St Luke, be kind to me,
In my dreams, let me my true love see’
that when you fell asleep (and you probably would as lavender is a soporific: meaning that its something that helps you fall asleep) that you would see the face of your future true love.
Interestingly St Luke is thought to have been a physician or doctor from Syria, one of the countries Lavender is believed to have originally come from, maybe having been brought to the United Kingdom by the Romans who would have used it for its healing properties, the oil especially being useful for sore skin and burns.~
Back to Lavinia’s story, well, so hard had they worked in the laundry that as Christmas time drew near the management decided to throw the workers a party, everyone was very excited, new dresses were dreamed of, dances learnt and plans were made. Many girls looked through the house for a spare bit of fabric, or an old bit of trimming to decorate a dress, but Lavinia found nothing and she began to think she would have nothing beautiful to wear for the promised party.
Finally just when she began to to think she’d have to go wearing her everyday work wear, her brother Richard a pilot in the Royal Air force came home on leave, bringing her the most amazing gift: a whole silk parachute, she wondered as she stroked its soft folds at how it had rescued him as he’d slipped from his plane brought to earth safely by its cream coloured canopy.
But times were hard, this was the era of make do and mend.
So Lavinia took the silk parachute and thought and knew at once what she should do
she would
wash it
draw it
cut it
pin it
and
sew it
and she made the most beautiful silk evening dress ready for the Christmas party, scented with lavender picked from her mothers garden, she looked so beautiful and smelt so sweet, that it was no surprise to anyone when a handsome young man insisted on every dance that night.
Indeed as the months went by and Spring arrived, that young man: Robert and Lavinia had fallen in love and they were planning a June wedding.
But what to do? The war was still on, and there was no spare fabric to be had for a new wedding dress.
Times were hard, this was the era of make do and mend.
So Lavinia took the beautiful evening dress made from the silk parachute and thought and at once she knew, what she should do
she would
wash it
draw it
cut it
pin it
and
sew it
she made the most wonderful lavender scented silk wedding dress that anyone had seen, the wedding was a delight and everyone said what a lovely couple they made.
But whereas nowadays many brides would pack away their wedding dresses to look at in future years, times were hard, this was the era of make do and mend.
So Lavinia took the wonderful wedding dress that had once been an evening gown made from the silk parachute and thought and at once she knew, what she should do
she would
wash it
draw it
cut it
pin it
and
sew it
and make herself something useful and glamorous she could still wear everyday and get a bit more use out of. The dress became a very glamourous dressing gown, lavender scented to soothe her to sleep.
But as the year wore on and Lavinia and Robert had a new born baby, they began to wonder where they would find the fabric for a christening gown.
Times were hard, this was the era of make do and mend.
So Lavinia took the glamorous dressing gown made from wedding dress that had once been an evening gown that had originally been the silk parachute and thought and at once she knew, what she should do
she would
wash it
draw it
cut it
pin it
and
sew it
and she made the baby a fine long silk christening gown, lavender scented to keep the baby calm and happy, she gurgled all day long and everyone said she was the bonniest baby on her christening day and remarked on Lavinia’s fine needlework.
But the summer was a long hot one and a christening gown is only worn once and as the baby lay outside at the bottom of the garden in her big pram Lavinia began to think of parasols and pretty shades to keep the sunshine from her gurgling baby girl.
Times were hard, this was the era of make do and mend.
So Lavinia took the fine christening gown cut from the dressing gown, made from the wedding dress that was fashioned from an evening gown that had once been a silk parachute and thought and at once she knew, what she should do
she would
wash it
draw it
cut it
pin it
and
sew it
and she made a lovely silk parasol to place over the pram and keep the sunshine out of her baby girls eyes, lavender scented to help keep away the midges.
But the wind blew and the fabric finally got worn and tatty, Robert and Lavinia’s daughter was now five years old and all set to go to school, they’d saved up ration coupons for a new checked school dress.
But this was still the era of make do and mend and Lavinia had not finished with those scraps of silk just yet
She took the pieces of parasol that had been created from a fine christening gown, that was cut from the dressing gown, that had been made from the wedding dress that was fashioned from an evening gown that had once been a silk parachute and thought and at once she knew, what she should do
she would
wash it
draw it
cut it
pin it
and
sew it
for one final time and covered tiny buttons with the silk for her daughters first school dress, and with the little scrap that was left she made a tiny silk bag and stuffed it full of lavender and popped it in her drawer as a keepsake forever of the silk parachute and the days when she had had to make do and mend.
Now the end of my story has nearly arrived, there’s one final thing you all need to know...as war ended Robert came home for good and having graduated from university as a chemist he was inspired to take the lavender that grew so beautifully in Lavinia’s mother’s garden and grow field upon field of the purple petalled flower... infact he
grew it
cut it
distilled it
and extracted the oil and made the most beautiful lavender scented perfume, everyone said how lovely its aroma was and I’m not sure where that lavender farm and perfume producer was maybe it was in Mitchum near London, maybe in Norfolk, or maybe, just maybe it was in Deeside near you!
(c) Amanda Edmiston 2013 ‘Lavinia’s lavender’ is a tale which takes history, folklore, facts and the traditional uses of lavender and uses them as trimming for a story washed and drawn, cut , pinned and sewn from Lorna Irvines story ‘Mamie make do and mend’
LAVENDER
LAVINIA'S LAVENDER this is a story I developed for another project in 2013 'the lavender project' at Woodend barn arts centre in Banchory Aberdeenshire, the former home of Scotland's lavender industry:
The year was 1943 and as some of you may know Britain was at war, if you ask the older members of your family some of them may just remember it.
There were many shortages,everyone who had a garden grew their own food, young woman known as ‘land girls‘ went to help on farms as so many of the young men who had been working as farm labourers were away fighting in the war, and many things were rationed including fabric.
Now this is the story of a girl called Lavinia, she worked in a laundry, in those days before every home had a washing machine, the laundry had a vital role to play, they washed linen from big houses and hotels during peace time and soldiers uniforms and hospital bedding during the war, amongst many other things.
For many years the laundry had washed the linen and used lavender flowers to scent the wash water...indeed the word lavender comes from the french word lavare meaning to wash. Although lavender was harder to find during the war as the fields were used to grow crops of food, the scent of lavender fresh washing was still one that people remembered and loved.
~Indeed love is a word associated with lavender rather a lot.
Legend had it that if you drank an infusion of lavender (a spoonful of flowers steeped in boiling water and strained and the liquid sipped like a tea) on the 18th of October: St Luke’s day and said the rhyme:
‘St Luke, St Luke, be kind to me,
In my dreams, let me my true love see’
that when you fell asleep (and you probably would as lavender is a soporific: meaning that its something that helps you fall asleep) that you would see the face of your future true love.
Interestingly St Luke is thought to have been a physician or doctor from Syria, one of the countries Lavender is believed to have originally come from, maybe having been brought to the United Kingdom by the Romans who would have used it for its healing properties, the oil especially being useful for sore skin and burns.~
Back to Lavinia’s story, well, so hard had they worked in the laundry that as Christmas time drew near the management decided to throw the workers a party, everyone was very excited, new dresses were dreamed of, dances learnt and plans were made. Many girls looked through the house for a spare bit of fabric, or an old bit of trimming to decorate a dress, but Lavinia found nothing and she began to think she would have nothing beautiful to wear for the promised party.
Finally just when she began to to think she’d have to go wearing her everyday work wear, her brother Richard a pilot in the Royal Air force came home on leave, bringing her the most amazing gift: a whole silk parachute, she wondered as she stroked its soft folds at how it had rescued him as he’d slipped from his plane brought to earth safely by its cream coloured canopy.
But times were hard, this was the era of make do and mend.
So Lavinia took the silk parachute and thought and knew at once what she should do
she would
wash it
draw it
cut it
pin it
and
sew it
and she made the most beautiful silk evening dress ready for the Christmas party, scented with lavender picked from her mothers garden, she looked so beautiful and smelt so sweet, that it was no surprise to anyone when a handsome young man insisted on every dance that night.
Indeed as the months went by and Spring arrived, that young man: Robert and Lavinia had fallen in love and they were planning a June wedding.
But what to do? The war was still on, and there was no spare fabric to be had for a new wedding dress.
Times were hard, this was the era of make do and mend.
So Lavinia took the beautiful evening dress made from the silk parachute and thought and at once she knew, what she should do
she would
wash it
draw it
cut it
pin it
and
sew it
she made the most wonderful lavender scented silk wedding dress that anyone had seen, the wedding was a delight and everyone said what a lovely couple they made.
But whereas nowadays many brides would pack away their wedding dresses to look at in future years, times were hard, this was the era of make do and mend.
So Lavinia took the wonderful wedding dress that had once been an evening gown made from the silk parachute and thought and at once she knew, what she should do
she would
wash it
draw it
cut it
pin it
and
sew it
and make herself something useful and glamorous she could still wear everyday and get a bit more use out of. The dress became a very glamourous dressing gown, lavender scented to soothe her to sleep.
But as the year wore on and Lavinia and Robert had a new born baby, they began to wonder where they would find the fabric for a christening gown.
Times were hard, this was the era of make do and mend.
So Lavinia took the glamorous dressing gown made from wedding dress that had once been an evening gown that had originally been the silk parachute and thought and at once she knew, what she should do
she would
wash it
draw it
cut it
pin it
and
sew it
and she made the baby a fine long silk christening gown, lavender scented to keep the baby calm and happy, she gurgled all day long and everyone said she was the bonniest baby on her christening day and remarked on Lavinia’s fine needlework.
But the summer was a long hot one and a christening gown is only worn once and as the baby lay outside at the bottom of the garden in her big pram Lavinia began to think of parasols and pretty shades to keep the sunshine from her gurgling baby girl.
Times were hard, this was the era of make do and mend.
So Lavinia took the fine christening gown cut from the dressing gown, made from the wedding dress that was fashioned from an evening gown that had once been a silk parachute and thought and at once she knew, what she should do
she would
wash it
draw it
cut it
pin it
and
sew it
and she made a lovely silk parasol to place over the pram and keep the sunshine out of her baby girls eyes, lavender scented to help keep away the midges.
But the wind blew and the fabric finally got worn and tatty, Robert and Lavinia’s daughter was now five years old and all set to go to school, they’d saved up ration coupons for a new checked school dress.
But this was still the era of make do and mend and Lavinia had not finished with those scraps of silk just yet
She took the pieces of parasol that had been created from a fine christening gown, that was cut from the dressing gown, that had been made from the wedding dress that was fashioned from an evening gown that had once been a silk parachute and thought and at once she knew, what she should do
she would
wash it
draw it
cut it
pin it
and
sew it
for one final time and covered tiny buttons with the silk for her daughters first school dress, and with the little scrap that was left she made a tiny silk bag and stuffed it full of lavender and popped it in her drawer as a keepsake forever of the silk parachute and the days when she had had to make do and mend.
Now the end of my story has nearly arrived, there’s one final thing you all need to know...as war ended Robert came home for good and having graduated from university as a chemist he was inspired to take the lavender that grew so beautifully in Lavinia’s mother’s garden and grow field upon field of the purple petalled flower... infact he
grew it
cut it
distilled it
and extracted the oil and made the most beautiful lavender scented perfume, everyone said how lovely its aroma was and I’m not sure where that lavender farm and perfume producer was maybe it was in Mitchum near London, maybe in Norfolk, or maybe, just maybe it was in Deeside near you!
(c) Amanda Edmiston 2013 ‘Lavinia’s lavender’ is a tale which takes history, folklore, facts and the traditional uses of lavender and uses them as trimming for a story washed and drawn, cut , pinned and sewn from Lorna Irvines story ‘Mamie make do and mend’
ST. JOHN'S WORT
The old folk name for this herb 'Chase the Devil' it's reputation in medieval times for removing curse and demons, its modern reputation as a valuable plant for alleviating minor depression and its traditional use as a remedy for nervous depression, lead me research and develop the story of this plant's uses as part of my 'Botanica Fabula' collection. You can read the story and a little more about it here: http://www.botanicafabula.co.uk/blog/2012/04/14/St-Johns-Wort-and-chasing-the-devil.aspx
The old folk name for this herb 'Chase the Devil' it's reputation in medieval times for removing curse and demons, its modern reputation as a valuable plant for alleviating minor depression and its traditional use as a remedy for nervous depression, lead me research and develop the story of this plant's uses as part of my 'Botanica Fabula' collection. You can read the story and a little more about it here: http://www.botanicafabula.co.uk/blog/2012/04/14/St-Johns-Wort-and-chasing-the-devil.aspx
The well houses a stone collection each one with a word or sentence (please add a word or a pebble of your own)…all for your wishes, poem creation or your own game version of this story:
Stone soup adaptation of a traditional tale by Amanda Edmiston
There was once a family who had travelled far
They travelled light with only a few wraps of seeds to plant when they reached their journey’s end and a big iron cooking pot that they hoped one day to smell tasty aromas rise from.
When finally they reached their new home they found a garden choked with nettles, ground too rocky to plant and not a thing to eat. But looking across the walls and fences into their neighbor’s gardens they saw ripe crops aplenty so decided to ask around to see if their new community would lend them some food for their pot.
But the people weren’t accustomed to strangers and they were scared their food supplies weren’t copious enough to share, so ask as they might the answer was no.
‘No’ said the man on the right with the garden full of carrots and kohl rabi
‘No’ said the woman on the left with row upon row of celery and cabbages
‘No’ said the couple at the bottom of the garden with the neat onion sets and the old pig sty
‘No’ said the family at the top of the street with the mill full of wheat.
‘No, no , no’ they all said slamming their doors.
The family despaired, what were they to do...then the mother had an idea...a ruse, a ploy with the guarantee of at least a mineral rich broth of nettles at the end of it...
So carrying the pot outside, the family set about gathering up sticks and stones and lighting a fire and setting the pot full of water on top of it, they began to drop stones into the pot.
With each one they thought of another line of a story...as the father put in his he said ‘plants’ and the mother started the story using his word, as she finished her sentence she popped in her stone and said the word ‘garden’ the daughter continued using garden as the key for her sentence round and round they went filling the bubbling pot with stones and weaving a story as they went.
It didn’t take long for the neighbors to start to peeking over the fence to listen and watch and try to hear the story, try to find out what the family were up to, and whats more try to find out what they had bubbling in their pot.
The man on the right was first to admit he wanted to know more....‘Hey, hey, new neighbours that looks interesting what did you find to cook in the end’ he asked.
‘Why’ said the mother, ‘I suddenly remembered my old family recipe for stone soup...its the simplest and the best’
The man gave her a greedy look, he liked to be the first to find new recipes to try out...” Oh let me try some...I’ve never heard of that before” he exclaimed.
The mother looked up and shook her head, “Dear me no’ she answered ‘‘I’d love to offer you a bowl... but I really can’t, you see, much as I’d love to share I’d be doing my old mum a disservice letting you try it without one of its key ingredients as you wouldn’t get to taste it at its very best’
‘Oh I’d really like to taste it’ replied the man, sifting in his pocket for a notebook to start scribbling down ingredients....‘tell me what it is you need, maybe I can help’.
It wasn’t long before he was popping the missing carrot over the fence and waiting to try the promised amazing soup.
The woman on the left was next to appear she prided herself on the very best soup and was intrigued to find out if this magical broth could match her best.
But ‘no no no’ said the mother ‘I’d love to give you a bowlful, maybe we could compare notes, but I’m afraid you wouldn’t taste it at its best, you see I’m missing a stick of celery, so it wouldn’t be a fair comparison’
Quick as a flash the woman vanished and reappeared with a firm green head of celery waving it with a flourish, I can’t resist a competition she announced...give me a shout when its all cooked then we can see who’s soup is best’.
The couple at the bottom of the garden eagerly swapped an onion and a cube of bacon for the offer of a bowl full of the fascinating soup, and the millers inquisitive ever hungry children were soon pleading with their parents to swap a crusty loaf of bread for a taste of the now infamous soup...maybe they thought they would get to hear the story too.
It was no time at all before the soup was simmering and ready, the family sat round the pot got up and literally grasped the nettles, each bringing a handful to the pot, a cliver here a stalk of ground elder there the four handfuls of weeds and nettles were chopped and put in the pot and the soup was ready, the neighbors were duly invited and a lovely meal was enjoyed.
And when all was shared and the food all eaten, well each and every stone came back out of the pot and a new story was told...and this one so I was told had a very happy ending!
© Amanda Edmiston : Stone Soup is a tale that crops up all over the word in traditional tales and urban myths, I have adapted this to Scotland of recent memory 2013
Stone soup adaptation of a traditional tale by Amanda Edmiston
There was once a family who had travelled far
They travelled light with only a few wraps of seeds to plant when they reached their journey’s end and a big iron cooking pot that they hoped one day to smell tasty aromas rise from.
When finally they reached their new home they found a garden choked with nettles, ground too rocky to plant and not a thing to eat. But looking across the walls and fences into their neighbor’s gardens they saw ripe crops aplenty so decided to ask around to see if their new community would lend them some food for their pot.
But the people weren’t accustomed to strangers and they were scared their food supplies weren’t copious enough to share, so ask as they might the answer was no.
‘No’ said the man on the right with the garden full of carrots and kohl rabi
‘No’ said the woman on the left with row upon row of celery and cabbages
‘No’ said the couple at the bottom of the garden with the neat onion sets and the old pig sty
‘No’ said the family at the top of the street with the mill full of wheat.
‘No, no , no’ they all said slamming their doors.
The family despaired, what were they to do...then the mother had an idea...a ruse, a ploy with the guarantee of at least a mineral rich broth of nettles at the end of it...
So carrying the pot outside, the family set about gathering up sticks and stones and lighting a fire and setting the pot full of water on top of it, they began to drop stones into the pot.
With each one they thought of another line of a story...as the father put in his he said ‘plants’ and the mother started the story using his word, as she finished her sentence she popped in her stone and said the word ‘garden’ the daughter continued using garden as the key for her sentence round and round they went filling the bubbling pot with stones and weaving a story as they went.
It didn’t take long for the neighbors to start to peeking over the fence to listen and watch and try to hear the story, try to find out what the family were up to, and whats more try to find out what they had bubbling in their pot.
The man on the right was first to admit he wanted to know more....‘Hey, hey, new neighbours that looks interesting what did you find to cook in the end’ he asked.
‘Why’ said the mother, ‘I suddenly remembered my old family recipe for stone soup...its the simplest and the best’
The man gave her a greedy look, he liked to be the first to find new recipes to try out...” Oh let me try some...I’ve never heard of that before” he exclaimed.
The mother looked up and shook her head, “Dear me no’ she answered ‘‘I’d love to offer you a bowl... but I really can’t, you see, much as I’d love to share I’d be doing my old mum a disservice letting you try it without one of its key ingredients as you wouldn’t get to taste it at its very best’
‘Oh I’d really like to taste it’ replied the man, sifting in his pocket for a notebook to start scribbling down ingredients....‘tell me what it is you need, maybe I can help’.
It wasn’t long before he was popping the missing carrot over the fence and waiting to try the promised amazing soup.
The woman on the left was next to appear she prided herself on the very best soup and was intrigued to find out if this magical broth could match her best.
But ‘no no no’ said the mother ‘I’d love to give you a bowlful, maybe we could compare notes, but I’m afraid you wouldn’t taste it at its best, you see I’m missing a stick of celery, so it wouldn’t be a fair comparison’
Quick as a flash the woman vanished and reappeared with a firm green head of celery waving it with a flourish, I can’t resist a competition she announced...give me a shout when its all cooked then we can see who’s soup is best’.
The couple at the bottom of the garden eagerly swapped an onion and a cube of bacon for the offer of a bowl full of the fascinating soup, and the millers inquisitive ever hungry children were soon pleading with their parents to swap a crusty loaf of bread for a taste of the now infamous soup...maybe they thought they would get to hear the story too.
It was no time at all before the soup was simmering and ready, the family sat round the pot got up and literally grasped the nettles, each bringing a handful to the pot, a cliver here a stalk of ground elder there the four handfuls of weeds and nettles were chopped and put in the pot and the soup was ready, the neighbors were duly invited and a lovely meal was enjoyed.
And when all was shared and the food all eaten, well each and every stone came back out of the pot and a new story was told...and this one so I was told had a very happy ending!
© Amanda Edmiston : Stone Soup is a tale that crops up all over the word in traditional tales and urban myths, I have adapted this to Scotland of recent memory 2013
Bed 9, 10 and 11 (recycled wood planters)
I'm sure many of you know the classic tales that go with these annuals…but just incase here are some links!
Pea’s ‘Princess and the Pea’
http://childhoodreading.com/?p=5
Beans ‘Jack and the Beanstalk’
http://www.worldstories.org.uk/stories/story/52-jack-and-the-beanstalk
(world stories is also a fantastic resource for teachers and families wishing to find other stories from around the world)
Oats ‘The Magic Porridge pot’
http://www.surlalunefairytales.com/authors/grimms/103sweetporridge.html
Turnip ‘The Giant Turnip’
http://lavendersbluehomeschool.com/story-the-enormous-turnip/
Pumpkin ‘Pumpkin Soup’ (by Helen Cooper: the library has a copy if you don't! ‘Cinderella’ http://www.surlalunefairytales.com/cinderella/
and the lovely traditional Indian folk tale 'The three Magic Pumpkins'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ceqMz_dKlzA
I'm sure many of you know the classic tales that go with these annuals…but just incase here are some links!
Pea’s ‘Princess and the Pea’
http://childhoodreading.com/?p=5
Beans ‘Jack and the Beanstalk’
http://www.worldstories.org.uk/stories/story/52-jack-and-the-beanstalk
(world stories is also a fantastic resource for teachers and families wishing to find other stories from around the world)
Oats ‘The Magic Porridge pot’
http://www.surlalunefairytales.com/authors/grimms/103sweetporridge.html
Turnip ‘The Giant Turnip’
http://lavendersbluehomeschool.com/story-the-enormous-turnip/
Pumpkin ‘Pumpkin Soup’ (by Helen Cooper: the library has a copy if you don't! ‘Cinderella’ http://www.surlalunefairytales.com/cinderella/
and the lovely traditional Indian folk tale 'The three Magic Pumpkins'
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ceqMz_dKlzA