As I type this, I have a quart of Tulsi tea brewing. It’s 90 degrees outside right now, so it’s definitely getting dumped over ice when it’s done, but it smells amazing. I drink some kind of herbal tea pretty much every day. I’ve been enjoying tulsi and lemon balm most frequently lately, but I often have chamomile, rooibos, hibiscus, dandelion, anise hyssop and various mints. They’re always on hand, and always in full rotation.
I’ve always had a hard time with authority. I’ll freely admit it. I’m stubborn. I also have a hard time following a recipe… or directions of any kind, really. Throw some unnecessary complications at me, and I’ll blow my lid. I will go straight “ain’t nobody got time for that” right up in yo’ face. What can I say? God made me how he made me.
That’s why I struggle with the most popular advice on tincture making.
I love living in the rural South. I really do… except for the pollen. Every year, it’s the same song and dance. The weather starts to warm, daffodils bloom, followed soon thereafter by dogwoods and redbuds. Soon, everywhere you turn there are trees and shrubs covered in stunning displays of flowers. You (and by ‘you’, I mean ‘I’) get caught up in the beauty and excitement of a brand new year. The feeling of new life in the air. ‘You’ open the windows, reveling in the refreshing cool breezes of Spring… and suddenly the world is awash in yellow. Every surface in your home – yellow. Your normally black car – yellow. The brick steps – also yellow. Your head throbs, your sinuses protest and your nose drips.