On my book: Guide to Wild Foods

Christopher Nyerges

Why I wrote my books:

Guide to Wild Foods

[Nyerges is the author of 10 books, and teaches regular classes through the School of Self-reliance. He does a weekly podcast at Preparedness Radio Network, and blogs regularly at www.ChristopherNyerges.com.]

The first book I wrote was “Guide to Wild Foods.”  It represented my attempt to put my various notes and articles about plant lore and ethnobotany into some usable format.  If these notes were organized, others might be able to travel over the path I’ve struggled over a bit more easily.  But I actually compiled and wrote the book for my own personal use  and was happy to see that others found the book worthy of purchase.

I began “Guide to Wild Foods” in 1975, and I began by simply alphabetizing, by common name, all the notes on the various plants I’d been learning to identify, and then learning how to use them for food, medicine, or something else.

In my bedroom of my parents’ home, I kept my crude of my observations, my studies, and my recipes scattered in a somewhat organized fashion over every flat surface.  In 1976, I began by writing weekly columns for the now-defunct Altadena Chronicle as my first attempt to begin publishing my book.

With the help of various mentors, I began to more fully organize the notes into cogent chapters, got illustrations, and got the whole book printed and bound.

The first edition was a dream come true, but contained many typos.  By the next printing, I’d cleaned up the errors in the text, improved the drawings, and expanded the text. In fact, since it’s first appearance in 1978, I’ve updated the book nearly every time there was a new printing.

One of my greatest surprises came when I was listening to the old American Indian hour on Pasadena City College Radio early one Saturday morning. Dorothy Poole, aka Chaparral Granny, was talking about the uses of certain local wild plants.  As I listened, it sounded vaguely familiar.  I quickly pulled out my copy of “Guide to Wild Foods” and opened to the plant she was talking about.  Imagine my surprise to see that she was reading directly from my book!  I felt honored that she felt my compilation and personal commentary was worthy of sharing on the American Indian hour.

The book helps the beginner understand the basic botanical terminology, and quickly shows the reader how to best utilize many of the common wild plants for food, medicine, soap, etc. 

Many of the plants listed in this book are not  native, and are considered invasive weeds. They are the plants that gardeners love to pull up and toss in the trash, or worse, to spray Roundup on them so they don’t come back.

But it turns out that some of the wild foods are more nutritious than much of what we find in the supermarket. And they taste good too, if you simply take the time to learn how to prepare them.

In “Guide to Wild Foods,” you learn that the brown pod from the carob trees planted all over Southern California are edible, and are an excellent source of calcium and B vitamins.

You also learn that dandelion is the richest source of beta carotene (not carrots), and that purslane is the richest plant source of Omega 3 fatty acids, and that the common lambs quarter is like nature’s mineral tablet.

I include many of the Native American uses of plants, such as the yucca plant which was a valuble soap and fibre source, as well as three types of food. And you learn about many of the natural cures to poison oak, including the seemingly unusual treatment that I’ve done for the past 30 years.

“Guide to Wild Foods” is available at Amazon, at bookstores, and at www.ChristopherNyerges.com.  I hope you enjoy your copy!

On my book "How to Survive Anywhere"

Why I wrote my books:

"How to Survive Anywhere"

Nyerges is the author of 10 books, and teaches regular classes through the School of Self-reliance. He will do a blog on most of his books over the next month or so.  His books can be obtained at  www.ChristopherNyerges.com.

Two of my books are closely related, “Testing Your Outdoor Survival Skills” and “How to Survive Anywhere.” 

I began teaching a survival skills class at Pasadena City College in 1980, and have taught it at 3 other colleges as well, not to mention endless lectures and workshops. For me, the act of teaching forces me to organize information in the most useful and easily digestible manner (boy, I sound like a chef!).  I worked to organize the subject matter and to cover one topic at a time. I know this may sound like a no-brainer, but I remember some classes on survival and related-topics that were rambling discussions with the students with no sharp focus, and no show-and-tell.  I wanted to present to the student a situation that I felt would facilitate quicker learning, and more retention.

Over time, my survival skills courses began to cover not just the skills that the lost hiker should know, but also the skills that every urban dweller should consider in the event of a disaster. In my early years of teaching, the subject matter more-or-less organized itself into discrete categories: Water, food and plants, fire, shelter, tools and weapons, first aid, navigation, alternatives to electricity, toilet alternatives, and woven throughout all this has been the necessity to have a good mental outlook.

These categories have become my classes with their endless permutations, and constant updates. I found that one of the best ways to involve the student was to ask questions rather than just make statements. I gradually developed a series of questions for each category, which I used as the basis of my classes. Most of the questions had common-sense answers and were not intended to trick the student, but to cause the student to think logically and to see the relationships of things.

As I refined those questions into my class passouts, Peter Gail (of Goosefoot Acres) suggested that I turn them all into a book. So I compiled them into my spiral-bound book, “Testing Your Outdoor Survival Skills.”  Scouts and schools have since used the book for their own educational programs for years now.

           

In time, I developed my questions into a survival manual that I hoped would benefit not only wilderness travelers but anyone living in the cities and rural areas as well.

I filled in all the gaps from my “Testing” book and answered all the questions and added a lot of photos from my classes, and the result was “How to Survive Anywhere,” my most popular book to date.  The title was the publishers’ idea, not mine, since I thought it sounded a bit presumptuous.  However, it has worked, and is my most popular book to date. 

It is divided into chapters similar to my class topics:  Water (finding it, purifying it, storing it), Fire, Lighting, Energy (all the things you need to know when the power goes out, as well as how to make a fire from the most primitive to the many modern methods), Health and Hygiene (how to stay clean, how to make a toilet, how to use plants for soap, etc.), Clothing and Shelter (obvious topics), Fibre (all the ways to create and use plants for rope, weaving, clothing, etc.), Food (wild foods, growing foods, storing foods), Tools and Weapons (knives, primitive weapons, make-do, etc.), First Aid (though I defer to the Red Cross manual), and Navigation (again, I defer to other complete books on the topic).

The last chapter is called “What is Survival?” and it is this chapter which has drawn criticism, since I include a discussion on how all our choices affect our destiny, all the moral, ethical, and spiritual choices that we like to kid ourselves and believe it’s all “private.” In fact, I list the 10 Commandments and The Golden Rule as some of the best “survival tools” of all time. What you sow, you shall reap.

I was criticized for including in a “survival manual” John Wooden’s Pyramid of Success, the greatest coach of all time, who always said he wasn’t training basketball players but was training people for life. To ignore these principles is the greatest ignorance. The critic felt that I should only include “Boy Scout skills” in a survival guidebook.  OK, there are many survival manuals out there – mine is different.

I also include economic considerations, though only briefly, since there are detailed books that cover “economic survival.” 

In “How to Survive Anywhere,” I even address the topic of whether or not a dark age is looming, and I provide some practical solutions that anyone can act upon. 

It’s a great book, and I hope you get a copy.  According to actor Ed Begley, Jr., “How to Survive Anywhere shows us that ‘survival’ is a mind-set, and that by understanding the principles of survival, we’d fare better in the woods, or in the aftermath of an urban disaster.”

The book is available wherever books are sold, at Amazon, and from the Store at www.ChristopherNyerges.com.  

When Shiyo Died -- extract from "Til Death Do Us Part?"

[An extract from “Til Death Do Us Part?” by Nyerges, which is available on Kindle or as a pdf from the Store at www.ChristopherNyerges.com.  Shiyo was Dolores’ mother who died in 1983.  Dolores died in 2008.]

In the ideal world, we learn from other people’s experiences.  This is most likely to occur when we are direct witnesses to the events from which we might derive learning.  But it does seem that only the wisest among us is capable of real learning via other peoples’ experiences.

            We’re doomed to repeat those experiences so that we (ultimately) learn through our own personal experience.  This is generally how I received my “education” about death.  I felt I wanted to learn more about this unavoidable phenomena – but polite poetry and priestly sermons, despite their sincerity – offered me nothing.

            In 1983, the cancer, surgery, and failing health of Dolores’ mother Shiyo provided us with one of many opportunities to face death.

            On the night Shiyo was dying, I was gone somewhere and Dolores went to Temple City with our friend Todd Pike.  Later, Dolores reported back to me her very unpleasant and sad experience.  When Dolores arrived at Shiyo’s home, Shiyo was not fully mentally coherent, and was apparently entering the first stages of dying.  She was not properly responsive when Dolores tried to talk to her, or ask what she could do.  In her uncertainty and panic, Dolores called the hospital – much to her later regret – and two young men quickly arrived by ambulance, with a gurney.  The two men joked among themselves and chatted about their personal lives, treating Dolores’ mother as some impersonal task that had to be done. They talked with Dolores, and then quickly and efficiently strapped Shiyo to their gurney, much like you might securely strap a refrigerator to a dolly.  Dolores felt that her mother was treated like a piece of meat, some mundane commodity, but not her mother.

            Dolores followed the ambulance to the hospital.  Shiyo was not coherent, and died that evening.

            It was a very difficult time for Dolores, though she did her best to hide her pain She had lots of mixed emotions, and lots of regrets about not resolving her lifetime of unfinished business with her own mother.

            As was Shiyo’s wish, Dolores had the body cremated. 

            Dolores then solicited the help of Todd and I, and others, to prepare a memorial event for Shiyo on the grounds of the Pacific Ackworth Friends school in Temple City, where Shiyo taught.

            Todd and I met Dolores and planned an agenda for the memorial, including readings and a home-made meal.  We all helped call people and mail out invitations.  Dolores handled herself reasonably well during this stressful time, though no one would have blamed her if she broke down in tears.  But that never happened.

            She worked with us to create a serious and touching sendoff for her dearly beloved mother.

            On the day of the memorial, Todd, Dolores, and I met at Shiyo’s home about two hours early and set up the eating and gathering area, and the outside memorial area on the school grounds adjacent to the home.  Lu Kuboshima was there, as well as all the old family friends of Dolores and Shiyo.

            People trickled into the outdoor seating area, around the grand stone stove that was built many years earlier by Dolores’ father Lyle (deceased many years earlier).  I didn’t know everyone on Dolores’ side of the family yet, but I knew many.

            Dolores opened the ceremony with a short talk about Shiyo, and there was some music.  Numerous friends of Shiyo’s stood up and talked about her.  It was very much like the typical Sunday Friends gathering, where people speak as the spirit moves them.  One tall skinny elderly man – he was probably in his 80s – stood up and said nothing, but danced around in a circle while waving a long silk scarf.  It was quite a refreshing spectacle.  Then the man sat back down, never saying a word.

            I read a short poem that Dolores had selected. I had already come to know and love Shiyo.  I already felt that she was my mother-in-law, though Dolores and I didn’t get married for another three years. So when I read the short poem about Shiyo, I found it hard to not cry.  A clay bust of Shiyo, made by one of her art students years earlier, stood on the edge of the large stove.

            I had no preconception as to what such a ceremony should be like.  It was the first time I’d ever actively participated in a memorial.  I suppose I expected something deeper, fuller, even a more-meaningful in-depth look at Shiyo’s life and how she affected everyone and changed the world.

            But I think I was still in the mode of expecting answers, even expecting “enlightenment,” to come from somewhere else outside of me.  As if all that was expected of me was to be in the right place at the right time, to read the right book, to be exposed to the right people.  These things, of course, can play a significant role in one’s development and evolution, but what I didn’t fully grasp was that the external forces could only enhance – but could not replace – the necessary inner condition of being ready, and willing, and able to evolve to whatever one’s “next level” might be.

            Plus, I hadn’t yet learned and realized the Universal Principle of “AS ye give, so shall ye receive.”

            Thus, at Shiyo’s memorial, I was only in a posture to receive a limited amount of learning about death.  I was expecting someone to give it to me.

            But learn I did, little by little.  Along with Dolores, I learned to give, and at times, to give sacrificially so that others might have a better learning experience. 

            But on that day, I could only feel deeply for Shiyo, and try to feel Dolores’ pain.

            When the memorial was over, we all went inside Shiyo’s home and we served soup and other healthful dishes that Dolores had arranged for guests to make. It was a great event, and I’m so glad we did it “at home” and not at some commercial funeral parlor where we’d be quickly rushed out once it was all done. 

            We all sat and talked about Shiyo, and got reacquainted. In that sense, the gathering was more for the living than for Shiyo, for it gave us the chance to see how each of our lives were touched by Shiyo, and how her life lived on in each of us.

            I was still left with many questions, some of which I was attempting to answer through my studies of  the “Thinking and Destiny” book.  Is it possible to really know what happens after death?  Should I fear death?  What is the purpose to these very temporary lives we lead, and then die?  Where is Shiyo now?  Will I go there?

            Lots of questions.  Were the answers “unknowable,” as Joe Hall avers?

            For the most part, those were not the questions or topics that we discussed that afternoon.  We did, of course, talk about Shiyo, and other matters.

            Then, afterwards, Dolores had the unsavory task of handling her mother’s estate, which included a yard sale where it seemed that all the vultures descended “looking for a deal” (or was it “looking for a steal”?).  It was left to Dolores to dispose of the many possessions of her mother, which caused behind-the-scenes bickering and accusations for years.  Perhaps that’s just one of the things that “goes with the territory” of handling an estate.  Still, it only made Dolores’ pain of losing her mother even greater.

            Dolores kept and maintained Shiyo’s library of Indian books and booklets, and her many writings.  One such writing was the account of Shiyo’s best friend who married a Navajo man during the Great Depression and moved to the Navajo Reservation.  When Dolores and I rediscovered that manuscript in her mother’s boxes, we attempted to get it published.  We finally succeeded in doing so, and in 2002, Naturegraph books published “The Winds Erase Your Footprints,” an incredible true story that reads somewhat like a Tony Hillerman novel.

In Honor of My Mother

A story about the death of Marie Nyerges, an excerpt from Christopher Nyerges’ Kindle book, “Til Death Do Us Part?”, also available as a pdf from www.ChristopherNyerges.com

 There was the cancer diagnosis of 1997.  I was devastated.  I could not believe that it was possible that my own mother could have cancer, and both Dolores and I spent time with Marie (my mother) talking about the possible results of the surgery her doctors were recommending.  I recall some nights at home feeling lost, hopeless, realizing Marie could die from the surgery alone.  After all, she was nearly 80 years old.  I’m sure Marie was fretful, feeling a sort of terror, frightened, hopeful though that something could be done. Frank, my dad, her husband, was quiet, perhaps uncertain of what to do, and probably somewhat unable.

She eventually had a surgery, and lived for many more months.

After the surgery, I visited her in hospital. They said it was very successful.  I met her in hospital hall while she was walking, and she smiled and we walked together.  I told her I was happy to see her.  She seemed to be very spunky, up and about walking. 

After, she seemed happy, relieved, but it was now difficult for her to get enough food, and to eat small portions all day.  My sister Peggy helped when she visited from Canada, and Marie improved, but she still was somewhat on her own.  Marie seemed to be fighting an uphill battle, and was visibly depressed when we were told, sometime in spring of 1998, I think, that cancer was back and spreading into her lungs.  I could feel her pain, her fretting, her desire to live. 

She soon went into hospice care, and Marie did seem happier there at first.  Frank came and sat with her every day. I tried to visit every day, or most days, and visitors could come at will.  I truly pictured that my mother would get better and return home. I still picture that.  I don’t know what Marie pictured.  But in those few weeks there, I was able to come and walk with her at night when the halls were empty.  I felt that we were two friends, that I began to know her from the beginning, and I very much enjoyed our talks about things.  How I enjoyed those moments.  I could feel Marie as a strong spirit in a frail body.  She was often apologetic, about all that everyone else had to do for her now, but I loved being able to assist and to be there.

Think about it -- after a lifetime of what she did for so many others, always buying things on sale for family members, sending notes, phone calls, now it was her turn to be attended to.  I had no complaints.  The days went by, and went by, and it was clear that her food was substandard, and that she was not as happy as she should be.  Remarkably, I still believed Marie would be well, and would be healthy and vibrant, and in my mind, that IS the way she still is. 

One day a few weeks later, Marie told me she wanted to go home, that Frank was looking into her going home and getting a  24 hour nurse. That made me happy, to think she would be back in her own home.  But she became unresponsive a few days later, and I went to see her in the hospice care.

 When I arrived, I put my hand on Marie’s head.  She was hooked up to oxygen, and her eyes were fixed ahead.  She was alive, but not responsive, though I felt she could hear me, and I talked to her.  I cried for awhile, and closed my eyes.  I tried to Feel-into this person, my mother, Marie.  She was breathing with eyes straight ahead. After awhile I felt I was with Marie.  My eyes closed, I began to see pictures, which I assumed were her pictures.  Childhood -- seeing the front of her family farm house in Chardon, Ohio.  I could sense that Marie was “waiting” -- maybe confused, waiting for us, her children, to come around and to say goodbye, that it is OK.  I asked her how she was, and she “responded” “What now?”  I tried to look at the pictures with her, tried to mentally look at her pictures with her, whatever it was that she wanted to see. 

I saw my childhood, the Cub Scout activities at home, counting pennies and dimes, having tantrums on the kitchen floor, her work, her fears, her doubts, and the many interests and activities that she tried to pursue with me, such as learning Spanish, practicing karate, wild foods.  I saw her focus on Virgin Mary and the League of Mary activities at the church, the desire to save the world by alerting people to change their lives. 

This was her world I was seeing, and I sensed that she did well, in this world, and that she had what could be called a good life.

I was mostly silent with her, holding her hand, my other hand on her forehead, and I knew that she was just waiting now.  All was over, and she wanted to go on.  It seemed she was waiting because she thought we wanted to say our final goodbyes.

A priest came to give the Last Rites.   I closed my eyes, with my hands on her.  I am breathing deeply, and I felt my breath as a circuit through one hand, through Marie’s body, and out the other hand.      

I could “see” a pulsating opening, the so-called tunnel that we have often heard about.  It was right there, and she was ready.  Marie was right  at the tunnel, waiting, ready to go on, only waiting for us, to allow us to say goodbyes.  So she is done with the world.  There is only the body, which is now a distant pain, a body that no longer works.  She is free   She is very close to those of us who are here.  She is accepting. 

I told Marie, I’ll never forget you.  You will be with me always.  We are conversing now, silently,  and I told her we could talk by sending pictures to one other’s mind. 

In my mental communication, Marie is smiling. Her radiant smile is not the skin and bones lying on the bed.  She is smiling.  Marie, I tell her, I didn’t know it would be like this.  She is ready for rest, ready for peace, ready for on-going.  She said “please don’t worry for me.  Why worry for me, she smiles. I am ready to go on. I am done.”  She tells me though that she is concerned for Frank, and that we should watch over him.             

 I got a call about 3:45 or so, saying that Mother had stopped breathing.  She had died.  It was over.  I dressed and quickly went over, and Jean Marie and Mary Sue were still there.  I embraced mother and could see her body now noticeably faded.  I embraced her and told her again I loved her, that I was glad the pain was over, that I would miss her always. 

There was a feeling of great relief.  Her friends Jean Marie and Mary Sue said they had just finished saying the rosary next to Marie and then she stopped breathing.

A Review of “High Noon”

I finally saw “High Noon” with Gary Cooper, a movie that I’d heard of forever, but for whatever reason, never had a chance to view.  Finally, last Fourth of July, I had the opportunity to watch this classic.

The lessons of this movie are worth reflection, since the movie captured some of the most basic universal, timeless human traits.  Set in the western genre, Gary Cooper (Cain) is getting married to a Quaker woman, and therefore resigning as marshal of this small town. His resignation is occurring just one day before the new marshal is set to arrive.  This means there will be no marshal for one day.

Coincidentally, three “bad guys” show up in town, awaiting a train that’s due to arrive at high noon.  On board the train is Frank Miller.  Apparently, it was because of Cain that Miller was sent to prison, and Miller is coming to seek revenge. 

But Cain just got married, and was heading out of town.  He could just walk away from it all.  He no longer has any legal responsibilities to the small town. But his personal ethics compel him to go back to the town. 

Some time earlier, Cain and company had managed to drive all the bad elements from the town, and turned the town into the sort of place where people would want to come to in order to work and to live a good life.

There’s also another woman (isn’t there always?) and a cast of characters all caught up in the pettiness of their own lives.

As we watch the clock tick down to noon, Cain attempts to round up some men and deputize them in order to fight back Miller and his gang of three.

But it turned out that Miller and gang had many passive supporters in the town, those who liked the wild days before Cain got Miller sent to prison. You’d think that the whole town would rally behind Cain, but each one had their own fears, their own doubts, and their own excuses.

The movie is a fantastic study in human character.  The basic “good vs. evil” drama is depicted here, which reminded me of the “Lord of the Flies” where the two sides set against one another.  Pleasure vs. discipline.  Freedom vs. control. Do what you want vs. do what is right.

In the end, Cain does his duty and gets some unanticipated assistance. Duty done, he finally tosses his brass badge in the dust and departs that little town that offered no help.

This is a movie worth taking the time to watch, and having a discussion afterwards. It makes you realize that with all our modern trappings today, we are no better and no different than the parochial folks in that little isolated town, who – like us – get to look in the mirror every day, and must accept the consequences of our choices.

THE ESBIT POCKET STOVE, Reincarnated

[Benjamin Loaiza cooking with the larger Esbit stove]

At least 40  years ago, we all had to get the little Esbit pocket stove for our camping trips.  They were made in Germany, but you could obtain them at some of the various camping supply stores that were more common back then.  The entire stove is just a little larger than a pack of cigarettes,and it folds open so that the two “doors” become “legs.”  You set the stove on the ground or a sturdy surface, and when open the bottom is just a little off the ground, so there’s an air space underneath.  You add a little fuel tab, and you rest your metal cook pot on the top.  It was ingenious, small, lightweight.  You hardly knew it was there. 

When you purchased one of these little Esbit stoves, it came with little fuel tabs, probably trioxane.  One tab was enough to bring a cup of water to a boil. 

But as campers with no money, we never bought fuel.  We’d just stuff some twigs into the Esbit cooker, light them, and cook some soup or tea in a metal Sierra cup.  Sometimes we just cooked in an old soup can.  I’ve used my Esbit stove in the desert, in the mountains, and even in the parking lots of rest areas in California and Arizona!

In the last four decades, we’ve seen some amazing high-tech gear for the campers and backpackers.  At a recent self-reliance and survival shows in Utah, I’ve seen no less than six new high-tech cookers, all very useful and – very expensive.  There are many variations of the original Esbit cooker, generally which go by the name of “tommy cookers.”

Never being a fan of heavy, bulky, expensive gear, I’ve never bought into many of the new products that flood the marketplace.  Of course I do have a few such stoves, and they are great to store in your garage in case I ever have to cook in my backyard after an emergency.  I have used mine in the backyard many times.

Getting back to the Esbit.  I didn’t even know the company was still around, until I got one of the latest Esbit stoves to test.  This time, it’s not the tiny stick-in-your-pocket cooker. But it’s the same stove on steroids. 

The new Esbit stove is bigger, a bit too bulky for most backpackers, but ideal to stick in the car for camping, or to keep handy for home emergencies. [Alan Halcon and I did a Dirttime Youtube video on this stove and others; maybe you saw that?]

It measures  13 " deep, 10" wide, and  4 inches high.  It weighs around five pounds.  It won’t fit into your pocket but it would f it into  your trunk.  I don’t think anyone would backpack with it, though you might just carry the grill along.

We tried cooking on the large Esbit cooker during an expedition to the local mountains, and found it to be convenient to use and easy to pack back up.

I was with a group and Francisco Loaiza and his son Benjamin – mostly his son Benjamin (a recent Eagle Scout) – did most of the cooking.

While everyone agreed that they’d not carry this stove backpacking, it seemed ideal for the cookout for three to five people where a convenient stove in the trunk is just the thing.

According to Francisco Loaiza, “I like the fact that it is constructed of stainless steel, and would resist rusting and I like how it folds up to a nice compact size. Some other barbecues are "oddly shaped" and would be more cumbersome to pack neatly. This is a basic box shape as opposed to the round mini barbecues I have used in the past.”

We both liked the charcoal bag which allows you to neatly carry charcoal, and pack it within the stove. 

Though this Esbit stove might be a bit small for a large group, it’s fine for a small family barbeque, car-camping, and emergency backyard use.  It’s built of stainless steel, compact, and neatly fits into a convenient carrying case.  Loaiza and I both noted that some stoves of this category have covers, which would allow one to use the stove as an oven.  Though this new Esbit stove has no cover, one could easily be fabricated with aluminum foil.

Esbit stoves are exclusively distributed in the U.S. by Industrial Revolution, whose web site is http://www.industrialrev.com/esbit.

[Nyerges schedule of classes can be seen at www.ChristopherNyerges.com]

Collecting Nettles

[Nyerges is the author of "Guide to Wild Foods," available at Amazon, or www.ChristopherNyerges.com]

 

Often during this time of the year, I get an allergic reaction when I’ve been under and around the trees that produces lots of pollen and cottony-fluff, like willows, and cottonwoods, and cattail, and oak.  I’ve tried numerous remedies over the  years to combat the allergy, but all with limited success. It just won’t work to stay out of the woods.

But finally, one of the natural remedies seemed to have good results. Nettle tea. I’ve long heard of the many health benefits of eating nettles and drinking the nettle tea.  I’ve eaten the greens like spinach for decades.  But once I heard about using an infusion of the nettle leaves (dried or fresh) for allergy, I’ve starting drinking it pretty regularly in the evenings.  It has helped to relieve congestion and improve my ability to breathe.  It seems  to work even better than my old standby, Mormon tea.

Since I’ve used up my limited supply of dried nettle, and since I don’t want to keep paying high prices for the tea packages at Whole Foods, I went out to collect a large bag of it.  I know of a field that gets mowed down every year, so I knew that the nettle was not valued.  I went there with my cloth bag and my scissors.  I found it easiest to clip off the tender tops with a pair of sharp scissors, and just let the nettles drop into the bag without touching it. After a while though, I was simply cutting with scissors and putting the tops into my bag with my other hand. I got nettled a little but they don’t seem to bother me that much anymore.

It felt good to be alone in the field where it was quiet and green and misty. But I wasn’t totally alone. There were people walking by.  One woman just looked at me as she and her friend walked by, and it was a very telling look. “Wow, I really pity you!” was written all over her face.  Oh, well. I’ve heard worse.

A guy wandered over and wondered what I was doing. Collecting nettles, I told him, and maybe if David Letterman ate them, and changed his diet, he wouldn’t have needed a quadruple by-pass surgery. Ok, so the man, Harold, wasn’t so interested in what I thought about Letterman. But he just watched a bit, perhaps amused, and then he told me a story.

He said that he’s collected nettles before for food, because he liked to eat them. He didn’t know they were good medicine too.

Anyway, one day while picking nettles all by himself, someone wandered over and wanted to know what he was doing.  Not knowing who the man was, Harold just said, “picking nettles.” And then he added, “to eat.”  The stranger looked closely and finally said, “You think I’m dumb, don’t you?  That’s marijuana you’re picking.”  Harold was a bit dumbfounded, and wanted to say “You really are far more stupid than you look,” but instead, said, “of course not.”  The stranger just smiled a knowing look, and then hung around.  Harold soon wandered off and then hid behind a tree.  He saw the stranger pulling up bunches of nettle and walking off with it. Harold laughed, thinking that the man would probably go home, dry the nettle, and try to smoke it. 

I finally left with my very full bag of nettle greens.  Some of the tops went into our evening soup, and the rest I cleaned and set out to dry for future tea.  The soup was very enjoyable and tasty, and I realized that nettle is one of the tastiest wild greens out there, and widely under-rated.

The Book of Eli -- movie review

“The Book of Eli” was one of my favorite “end of the world as we know it” movies.  It didn’t hurt to have Denzel Washington as the star, a role in he played excellently.

The movie is set in the future, and we see a treeless, pock-marked landscape without the millions of people who are present today.  The world is sparsely populated, most people apparently killed off by some event, probably nuclear. 

Denzel possesses a Bible, and his self-appointed task is to get his book to a safe place somewhere on the west coast.

In this version of the future, people have learned to survive by trading – money as we know it today has no value. There is no longer any formal “law enforcement,” just various random thugs, and thugs who work for a big thug.  There is no infrastructure, no fire department, no grocery stores, no electricity.  We see no farms where either plants or animals are raised.  In fact, we hardly see any plants or trees at all – maybe the soil is spoiled from the results of some future warfare.

And we get hints that some have reverted to cannibalism.  Violence and depravity are the norm. 

A strong  thug is the leader of what may one day become a town. This thug wants to find a Bible so that he may use it to exert power over other people.  When he learns that Denzel might have a Bible, the basic plot and drama of the movie become clear.

In some ways, this movie shows a harsh view of the future, presented in such a way that you believe it could be possible.

The setting is not so far-fetched and the story of Denzel and what he does makes this somewhat of a secular Savior story, including the notion that he may return again, in some form.

The harshness of the world made me realize that I’d never want to live in such a bleak world.  Thus, watching this movie made me want to fight even harder to protect all that I believe is good and right in our world. 

And besides the entertainment value, and besides the “big picture” message, there were some excellent teaching moments where each of us could learn a few things.

For example, everyone traded. In this harsh world, piece of paper had no meaning, and certainly no value.  If you wanted or needed something, you had to barter with material goods or services that the other person needed or wanted. Very basic, to the point.  And how many of us realize that general commerce in today’s society cannot continue without the electricity that powers our machines?  And what about the electronic transfers of “money” from place to place, and our reliance on the credit card?  Most of our modern societies are constantly in a state of near-emergency, but we barely realize it.  Learning to barter is a step in the right direction.

There was another scene in the movie where a young woman was asking Denzel what it was like before “the event.”  Denzel thoughtfully responded that the people back then – us, today – had far more than they needed.  Indeed!  So many of us lust after more and more physical stuff to fill our lives, and it never seems to bring happiness. We then toss the objects into the landfills as we seek other material objects to give us happiness and give our lives meaning. How many Americans are aware of the fact that even the very poorest amongst us live lives that are far better than millions of people in third world conditions?

Yes, “Book of Eli” is an excellent movie on many levels.  You can rent or buy the DVD and enjoy it with your family, followed by a lively discussion of what it all means.

Considering Easter

 

It is a time that millions of people the world over look forward to – the first Sunday after the first full moon after the spring equinox.  What day is that, you ask?  Easter, the day (and season) that Christians worldwide commemorate the trial, death, and resurrection from the dead of Jesus.

I grew up in a Catholic family, going to a Catholic school, and know well the Easter motif, beginning with the “giving something up” for Lent, Palm Sunday when Jesus entered Jerusalem on a donkey (in fulfillment of scriptures), and then turned over the tables of the vendors.  He was still invited to speak in the Temple, but the Temple authorities considered him an upstart, someone who seemed to know “the Truth” in a way that they had forgotten, a man who didn’t have the Temple training and no formal training to become a Rabbi, and yet, there he was, attracting crowds, purporting to heal, innocent, seeming to know the answers to life’s deepest questions.

His trial and death were almost predictable, as most societies do not like the rabble-rousers among them.  Especially, the “leaders” do not like such persons, and  they act quick to dispose of them.  Witness such other notables as Socrates, Pythagoras, Joan of Arc, Abraham Lincoln, Sitting Bull, Wovoka,  Musashi, Abraham Lincoln, Malcolm  X, Pope John Paul the first.  I am  not necessarily putting these individuals (and the hundreds more like them) on the par with Jesus, but it is clear that a down-ward looking society takes offence with anyone who looks to the heavens.

Every Easter I have enjoyed the inspiring messages that movie-makers have given us in their efforts to interpret the practical meaning of the Jesus message. I have particularly liked the over six hour presentation of “Jesus of Nazareth” produced by Franco Zeffirelli, starring Robert Powell as Jesus. It is a rare presentation that brings the story alive, and takes it out of the pages of dry church reading.  You cannot help but cry, and laugh, often when viewing this unique presentation.  I have kept a Bible (Lamsa translation) handy when viewing this, to see how well Zeffirelli brought alive these ancient writings. You will likely agree that he did a great job. Actor Robert Powell said once in an interview that this role “changed my life.” Indeed.

I have also enjoyed the movie version of the play “Jesus Christ Superstar.”  Though full of deliberate anachronisms, it still manages to penetrate into the dynamics of what was going on in the people around Jesus.  I do not consider this presentation in any way profane, and find it to be a valuable tool for understanding certain aspects of the Christian message.

Though too many of us have gotten lost in the pre-Christian “Easter” symbolisms of eggs, bunnies, chocolate, etc., it is still worth fighting to realize that there is still a real story here, about someone who worked hard, was ridiculed, laughed at, even killed, in order to  help us to save ourselves.

I have chosen to see the Easter story as a pattern that each of us should find and follow in our own lives. And are there other stories out there which show this pattern in the so-called secular world?

Movie-makers have given us many such stories, but we don’t always see them for what they are.  If we consider the themes of the Easter story – humble birth, hard work, trying to rise above mundanity, showing The Way to others, some sort of “death,” and rising up again – then there are some excellent movies that give us this tale.

For example, you can’t go wrong with the classic “Whale Rider”.  If you’ve not seen it, get it immediately.  The grandfather of the  traditional village is hoping for a grandson to carry on the ways.  A girl is born, and grandpa figures he’ll  have to wait some more.  But the girl is “the one.”  She persists in  her path of learning the  traditional ways.  And when a test is given to the boys to see which one will become the new spiritual leader, the girl nearly dies, but passes the test.  She is the one.  You have to see it, and feel it, and experience that Saviorness can occur at any time, anywhere.  Of course, there are certain requirements, but the chief among them is the willingness and desire to do the work required, and then doing that work.

“Powder” is another good movie that somewhat depicts the elements of the Easter theme, though not precisely.  It’s still worth watching to see how most of us treat our fellow man.

Even “It’s a Wonderful Life” with James Stewart – so often shown at Christmas – probably more accurately can be said to depict the Easter theme.  Stewart worked hard to make life better for his fellow man, while living a humble life and not always getting the material things he would have liked.  All the while Mr. Potter greedily plans to take over the town. And Stewart “dies” in the river, gets to see what his world would be without him, and he is then brought back to carry on.  In this case, Stewart is not crucified in the end, but is recognized for his good deeds.

Yes, some of you who will read your Encyclopedia today will learn about the pre-Christian roots of Easter.  There is no denying that the Holy Day, as practiced generally today, has so-called pagan roots. So what?  You can still observe this day and find the way to use the major themes for your personal upliftment, and for the upliftment of those around you.