Singing out loud again

For my birthday this year, my thoughtful husband bought me noise reduction earmuffs so I could mow our lawn without damaging my ears. Just like I asked, yet Mike was unable to give me a simple pair that would just protect my ears. He gave me a pair that could be hooked up to an IPod. Since he uses his IPod, he felt I needed my own.  So instead of a simple pair of earmuffs, I have a super fancy pair and a cute little green IPod with my favorite albums loaded onto it. I didn’t realize how cool it was until I started mowing the lawn and putting the IPod on “Genius Shuffle,” which shuffles songs in the same genre of the first song that is picked. Alternatively, I just put it on shuffle, the whole collection is shuffled, and I can listen to Led Zeppelin, then Ella Fitzgerald, followed with the Wood Brothers. Very cool! Besides mowing the lawn, I have been doing yard work with simply the IPod; it has changed my attitude about yard work and makes life much more enjoyable.  I am now singing at the top of lungs again, not caring who hears me. I wonder when I stopped doing that. No matter, I’m glad I found my voice again.

Yesterday, while doing yard work and listening to my IPod, I realized how much influence my family has had on my musical taste. When I was younger (teenager, twenties), if I heard a song it brought me to a time and an event in my life. Yesterday, the songs reminded me of a family member, not events anymore. I wonder when and why that has changed. I was brought up in a home where music was played all the time, not by an individual but on the stereo or as it was called back then “the hi-fi.” My older brother, Richard, played a guitar, but I cannot remember hearing him play very much. Perhaps a Bob Dylan tune here and there. We did have a piano for Richard to play, but I only recall my cousin David coming over to play it. In fact, sometimes he brought his friend to play it as well. Nevertheless, those events were few and far between. The music played in our home was made by others and was flowing through our house all the time, as it is today in my own home.

Ever since my brother Michael passed away in March of 2011, I’ve been overwhelmed by the influence he had on my musical tastes. There are certain songs that bring his spirit to me. What I found interesting yesterday was that some particular songs by an artist are associated with Michael and others by the same artist are associated with Richard. My folks love music as well. My Dad loves jazz and the blues and I remember him bringing home Santana’s Abraxas for Michael.  I didn’t realize how progressive my Dad was until he was visiting me while I was in my twenties and listening to Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here,” he asked if I could make a copy for him.  Mind you, my Dad was in his late 60’s and tended to listen to Louis Armstrong and Frank Sinatra. My mom turned me on to my all time favorite artist – Cat Stevens. I can still hear her hum “Moonshadow.”

It isn’t any surprise that I married a man with the same eclectic taste in music that I was raised on. Besides finding my soul mate, we had a perfect marriage of our music collection. Mathew shares our love of music and has been known to over play what “used” to be some of our favorite albums. He is known to break into song while walking through the halls of school. A particular favorite song to sing as he passes the teachers in the hall is “Good Morning” from “Singing in the Rain.” No big surprise, as his paternal Grandmother and maternal Grandfather often break into song as well, I guess it is genetic. 

I am truly grateful for the earmuffs and IPod. It would have never occurred to me to get them for myself. However, I have to question how much protection they really provide my ears – I do have to pump up the volume in order to hear the music over the lawnmower.  Nonetheless, it is good for my soul

 

 

Foraging Black Birch

For most of my life, I have always been fascinated with the power of plants. I love foraging wild plants and eating them as well as using them to heal. My first experience with foraging was on a hike with my cousin David. He is 8 years older and provided me with a great foundation that fed my love and respect for the natural world. I loved going on hikes with David and learn about different plants he knew.

When I was about 8 years old, David introduced me to Black Birch (also known as Sweet Birch, Betula lenta), which is rather easy to identify when the branches are broken or scratched, it smells of wintergreen. Yellow birch also has a wintergreen aroma but not as strong. David taught me that I could make tea out of the black birch bark. After a long hike, we took a young branch and broke it into small pieces (each about an inch long, the thickness of a matchstick), added it to boiled water and let it steep for 10-15 minutes (it’s important not to boil the twigs themselves, as they will lose its aroma). The water turned this beautiful red and smelled of wintergreen; the tea was delicious!

As my passion for the natural world grew, I loved to share it with friends. I found I could keep their attention if I identified plants that we could eat along the way. After a long hike, I would harvest some black birch and make tea for my hiking companions. This always impressed them and was a good ending to a lovely hike.

What I learned later was that black birch has analgesic and non-steroidal anti-inflammatory properties. Methyl salicylate compounds found inside the oil are effectively absorbed and used by the body to naturally treat pain. Methyl salicylate is related to the compound from which aspirin is derived from, so it was a perfect ending to a long hike and relieved any muscle aches we had.

When foraging it is important to properly identify the plant before eating or tasting. Peterson has an excellent field guide series.

Audubon also has a great series

P.S. I don’t think you can have too many field guides.

All information is shared for educational purposes only and is not intended to diagnose or treat any condition.