Agrimony, Goblins, and Other Naughty Things.

Two years of attempting to grow “just nice grass” has taught me that grass is a high-maintenance diva that needs more care than a sourdough starter and more attention than a toddler with a tambourine...

So I have decided to grow herbs instead. Useful and/or witchy ones.

Which is how I met Agrimony.

Agrimony, or Agrimonia Eupatoria, is a tall plant with humble yellow flowers. Do not be fooled by

this. Agrimony has a past...

It is one of the 57 herbs in the Anglo-Saxon Holy Salve, a medieval recipe believed to protect people from… goblins. Yes. Goblins. I personally have not experienced goblin-related difficulties so far, but it

feels unwise to rule anything out. Better safe than sorry. Also I now feel morally obliged to track down

the remaining 56 herbs and plant them all, just in case. You never know what might emerge from the compost heap.

Leaving goblins aside for a moment, agrimony has been used for centuries as a gentle but effective plant ally for all sorts of scandalous internal affairs.

Traditionally it has been associated with:

• Supporting the “naughty” liver (I don’t know what exactly this medieval person had in mind)

• Helping digestion and easing bloating and sluggishness

• Supporting the urinary system

• Astringent and toning properties for skin and tissues

• Soothing inflammation

It was considered so nourishing and restorative that t here are old accounts of wounded deer deliberately seeking it out, grazing on agrimony to heal themselves after injury. Which is either incredibly poetic or a very strong endorsement, depending on how much you trust deer as medical professionals.

In modern terms, agrimony is a gentle tonic herb. A botanical therapist with a good reputation. Which brings us neatly to the most important applicationof agrimony.

Tea.

ooooooooor.... let’s skip this bit and go directly to:

Agrimony Wine

(A very serious medicinal preparation, obviously.)

A good bunch of agrimony, leaves and flowers

9 litres of water

3.1 kg of sugar

3 lemons

6 oranges

113 g of ginger

Crush the ginger and put it with the agrimony and water into a large saucepan. Boil until a good colour appears and the whole kitchen smellsa bit suspicious. Pour onto the sugar, add the lemons and oranges (sliced), then allow to stand for 2 to 3 days. Strain, pour into a large jar and leave it to work its magic.

The wine can be drunk after six months. Which is quite a wait, I know. But it could be worse. It could be twenty years, like some very posh red wines that cost more than a small car and are (surely!) far less medicinal. I have not yet tried this Chateau de My Garden, but watch this space.

Unless you are a goblin...

In which case, please look away.

With love,

Eva x

Your compost with opinions and goblin enthusiast.

Cow on the Ice