So um, not to pressure or rush my kids or anything, but I really am looking forward to being a grandmother someday. I think it’s kind of the dessert course of life… all of the sweetness of being absolutely essential to a little life, with none of (or at least a good deal less of) the go-to-bed-on-time, eat-your-vegetables, dear-God-let-me-not-mess-up-this-enormous-blessing/responsibility-called-parenting stuff.
I even have my name picked out. I want to be “Sugar.”
My sweet man wants to be “Pop.”
Together, we’ll sound kind of like breakfast cereal, “Sugar and Pop,” but I’m cool with that.
I like to entertain myself with visions of the kind of Sugar I’ll be.
I see myself in a rambling limestone house, with a big cedar door and cedar shutters, surrounded by a wildish cottage garden, chickens and an orchard. I imagine that house always smelling of pie, and there always being sweet tea in the fridge.
I don’t even drink tea, but I plan to, as a granny.
A person should have goals and aspirations. Tea drinking is one of mine, but there are so many more – so many things I’d like to do and be as a grandmother.
In all of my visions, I possess a great deal of knowledge about the proper names of every winged thing, all the medicinal properties of my unruly plants, and the secrets of the unseen creatures that live among them.
I envision my study, for I will have a study, of course, full of crackling tomes that hold the oldest and dearest of stories. There will be specimens and curiosities, collections of all sorts and stacks of handwritten journals. There will be feather pens, real ink and wax seals. There will be quilts and creaky, fluffy beds and never empty jars of cookies. My pantry will be full of every sort of jam which we will eat with spoons, by candlelight, with country music on the radio, my grandbabies and I. They will say, “Sugar, tell us a story,” and I will say, “once upon a time…”
I feel too, that once I am Sugar, my medicine cabinet should be full of odd and delightful little jars and vials of things called “tinctures” and “salves” – mysterious and powerful things, magical fairy things that heal and hearten little ones with skinned knees and stuffy noses.
So you see, I have a lot of preparing to do, a lot of knowledge to acquire.
First, I’m going to have to figure out how to keep something more than basil alive in my garden. Everything else has flopped fully and completely this year.
Although, if I must have only one plant, I suppose basil isn’t a half bad one to have.
There’s the pesto, of course, which we can also eat with spoons of need be, though I prefer to eat it with torn bits of warm, chewy bread.
And, it turns out that basil has another wondrous quality, one that fits quite nicely into my grandmotherly plans…
It has healing properties!
I discovered this fact while looking for antiseptic essential oils for use in homemade cleansers and decided to try my hand at making a little balm that would be good for the many itchy ant and “skeetie bites,” cuts and scrapes that make their way into the lives of my guys.
Here’s what I came up with:
In a microwaveable bowl, put
2 TBSP Shae Butter, 1 TBSP Cocoa Butter, 1TBSP Bees Wax, 1 TBSP Baking Soda.
Microwave for 30 seconds. Stir and continue cooking in microwave at 20 second intervals until it’s all melted.
Add in 2 tsp sweet almond oil and 3-4 drops basil essential oil.
Stir, then pour into a small jar. Allow to set.
One of these days I’d like to figure out how to use actual basil off of the actual plant, but for the moment, I’m quite pleased with the recipe as it is.
Given the ammount of running about that goes on around here, we invariably get a few “skeetie bites” on any given day.
So, we got to test our balm right away, on both the boys and the mama. We all agreed that it was truly a magnificent goo!
Within a couple of minutes of application, the redness had decreased and the itch was gone.
So, my men smell all earthy in their beds, where they lie comfortably, with no itchies, and I am one little balm farther down the path to becoming the Sugar of my dreams.
Ah, the sweet basil-y smell of success.