Stalking the wild asparagus - plus processing my alpaca fleece

Many years ago a friend recommended I read Stalking the Wild Asparagus, by Euell Gibbons. I actually never got around to it, but ever since, I've somehow been enthralled by the idea of finding wild asparagus.

Decades later, I've done it. By accident. While 'stalking' another wild plant, I came across a patch of wild asparagus! Wow. I feel as though I have accomplished one of my life's secret goals (another of which is to climb Mt. Everest - but that, I'm sure, will never come to fruition, so a thing like this is made all the more meaningful :-)

Here is the wild asparagus:

I can't tell you what a thrill came over me when I practically ran into it. I'll wait with great anticipation until next spring when I'll return to this remote spot and gather a few of the early shoots for a yummy treat. It will tide me over unil my own asparagus, planted this past spring, begins to produce.

And now for the alpaca. I got my hands on a raw alpaca fleece:

Here it is after two or three days of sorting:

And here are some of the bags of sorted fiber:

I've been washing it a few ounces at a time in some salad spinners. I let it soak a couple of times in hot, soapy water. Let it sit through a couple of rinse baths, and then spin the excess water out of it:

I let it dry on a screen in my garage. Here is some scoured fleece:

And here it is in the 'planking' stage of the combing process with my four-pitch wool combs:

Here it is after it's been pulled off of the combs through a diz. This is combed top, ready to spin:

The stuff that's left on the combs after I pull off the sliver is put away to be carded later. Why is it in baggies? I don't know. Just thought it was neater that way:

I've spun about 150 yards of double-ply yarn already. I'm anxious to see how much yarn I'll get out of one fleece, and how much out of each quality of sorted fiber.

It's a long process, but I don't mind it.

Of herbs and things

Here are some of the things I've been able to put away over the past few months. They are herbs, medicinal and culinary, that I've either grown in my garden or wildharvested:

Also pictured are some infused oils I've made with some of the herbs and some tins of various salves I've made with the oils.

This past summer was my first attempt at a medicinal herb garden. Next year I will expand the varieties a bit, but this year I tended in my garden:

Calendula

Elecampane

Evening Primrose

Holy Basil

Sage (S. officinalis)

Hyssop

St. John's Wort

Lavender, Hidcote and Munstead varieties

Yarrow

The things I gathered from the wild include:

Yarrow

Goldenrod

Elecampane

Crampbark

Lemon Balm

Elderberry blossoms

Plantain

Violets (probably dogtooth) - Edit: that's dog violet not dogtooth violet : )

Blackberry leaves

Raspberry leaves

The culinary herbs included:

English Thyme

Sage

Pineapple Sage

Corinthian Mint

Pesto Basil

Genovese Basil

And now I will plan my garden for next year.

To those who wait...

... answers come.

Last summer I came across these wildflowers and didn't know what they were. I snapped their picture in hopes of identifying the plant. I searched on the Internet, but that's a difficult way to identify a plant when all you know about it is that it's a tall, yellow wildflower. I didn't have any luck finding my particular flower.

But I didn't forget about it.

Recently I checked out a Peterson Field Guide from the library for Eastern/Central [United States] Medicinal Plants and Herbs. And what did I come across while perusing its pages, but this exact flower. The field guide identified it as elecampane, or Inula helenium.

I use elecampane root in teas that I make to treat the symptoms of cold and flu. Until now I have mail-ordered it from an organic source. Late last winter I started some plants from seed and in the spring I planted them in my garden, but the root is supposed to be harvested from second-year plants. The first year plants look nothing like the picture. They stay low to the ground, and the leaves spring out sort-of like a rosette. That's why I had no idea that the tall beauty was the same plant, only in its more mature, flowering stage.

So today, while walking the dog, I went back to where I had spied these flowers in late summer. I didn't know if I'd find them because by now the plants have died back, leaving only the root alive to send another plant shooting skyward again next year.

But I did find them, the withered, dried remains of stalks, leaves and flowerheads, waiting to be flattened by winter winds and heavy snowfall so that they can reconnect with the soil and become a part of it again.

The only way to be sure these plants were indeed elecampane was to dig up a root and smell. Elecampane root has a very distinctive smell. I took the dog back home, put him in the back yard with his little cup of doggie ice cream, got my shovel, and returned to the withered plants.

I chose one, dug, pulled, and was rewarded with a nice, fat root. I brushed the earth off of it as best I could, scratched at a section with my fingernail, and smelled. Elecampane! Ha!

Boy did I feel just like a wise woman of old, able to identify and find the plants I need in the wild.

I've had a lot of fun over the past couple of years growing more serious about learning the wise woman's ways. Soon I hope put up a post showing the things I've been able to find, or grow, and put away for later use, and the things I've made.

I absolutely love knowing about the things that grow around me and how to use them, gratefully, for my own benefit, or the benefit of others.

Crabapple Harvest

My daughter and I went to collect some crabapples the other day. Along the way we saw some interesting things. Like this butterfly:


The photo above is mine, the one below is my daughter's. She always takes the time to get the really good shots:



Is it any wonder that I've had several cases of poison ivy this past summer with the plants around here sporting leaves like this?:

There was a funny fungus growing on an old stump. It reminded me of those candy dots that you get on a strip of paper:

My daughter got a close-up shot:

I've never seen such a pretty fungus as this before, it reminds me of a chrysanthemum:

We came across an outdoor cafeteria. The hulls of hickory nuts were left on top of logs:

And stones where they had been eaten by some hungry critter:

They don't call them shagbark hickory for nothing:

Someone left behind muddy handprints. I don't know if it was a raccoon or a skunk:

Strider was eager to keep moving:

Reminding me of this poem:

The road goes ever on and on

Down from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the road has gone,

And I must follow, if I can,

Pursuing it with eager feet,

Until it joins some larger way

Where many paths and errands meet.

And whither then? I cannot say.

Tolkien

Elderberry Jelly

Yesterday I made a batch of elderberry jelly. Actually I, my daughter, and her boyfriend made the jelly.

I harvested the berries from a couple of very large bushes that grow nearby. I had exactly half the amount called for in the Sure-Jell recipe, but my daughter and I spent the afternoon picking wild blackberries so I thought we would make up the difference with blackberry juice.

It turns out we didn't need to because I cheated a little when processing the elderberries. The recipe calls for you to crush the berries and simmer them for fifteen minutes to juice them. I added a little bit of water (just shy of covering the berries), and in the end I ended up with the exact amount of juice needed for the recipe. I worried that it would set/taste all right - but everything worked out well. The jelly set perfectly and it tastes wonderful.

Now to turn all of those lovely blackberries into sparkling jars of jelly!

Happiness at the side of the road

Last night my husband, dog, and I drove to a hike a bike trail for a walk after dinner. I took along a small back pack with plastic bags in case we came across anything interesting to gather. We didn't. But on the way home I spotted a woman and her son gathering something at the side of the road.

My heart soared. Someone else out there was like me. I wanted to stop and talk, but evening was coming on and it looked like she and her son were feverishly trying to gather all that they could (blackberries, I think) in the remaining light and I didn't want to disturb their concentration.

And now I know where some more blackberries are : )

Off to gather what they missed...