PecanSpringsJournal

>>chili coyote

Susan is getting her notes together for a talk she plans to give on her book tour. I happened to be looking over her shoulder and spotted a name I didn't recognize.

"Chili coyote," I say. "What's that?"
"Whaddya mean, what's that? It's chili coyote," she says, frowning. "C-h-i-l-i--"
I roll my eyes. "So what is a chili coyote?"
"I can't believe you don't know what a chili coyote is," she says, in the tone that teachers reserve for especially backward pupils. "Especially an interesting herb like this one. Why, it's growing right next to the railroad track, behind--"
"Look, Susan," I say. "I don't care where it's growing. I want to know what it is, and what it's used for, and where it got that crazy name. What is a chili coyote?"

So she tells me. This is a chili coyote. It's a buffalo gourd (Cucurbita foetidissima, if you're fussy about nomenclature).

And she's right. It does grow next to the railroad track, behind the Pecan Springs Enterprise building. It's huge, a sprawling green mass of vines and leaves (in the summer, anyway) that takes up half a vacant lot. If you mistook it for a squash or a pumpkin--you haven't missed the mark by much. They're close kin.

Turns out that while the fruit isn't edible (it is bitter, bitter, bitter), the seeds are. You can treat them like pumpkin seeds, roast and salt and eat them. Medicinally, the root was used to treat headache, chest pains, fevers, toothache, and in childbirth. The leaves were used as an insecticide. And like yucca, it's a soap plant: chop up pieces of root and cook them up for a pot of suds. The dried gourds were used as ladles, scoops, and handy portable containers, just the right size to carry magical stones or bits of food.

"But the name," I persist. "Chili coyote. Where'd that come from?"

It comes, Susan says, from the use of the word 'coyote' as a name for the wild relatives of domesticated plants. In many Indian cultures, Coyote is a trickster who takes a mischievous pleasure in turning things upside down, altering them, just to frustrate people. That's how the earth got coyote tobacco, coyote corn--and coyote gourds. The real coyote marks his territory by peeing on conspicuous landmarks--so the idea here is that Coyote peed on a gourd (or corn or tobacco) and turned it bitter.

"But chili coyote?" I ask again, feeling a little frustrated myself.

Susan says she's still figuring that one out. But here's what she's got so far, from a book called Gathering the Desert, by Gary Paul Nabham. Nabham was also curious about the name, so he asked a Pima Indian. (In Pima dialect, the plant is called chichicoyota.) He was told that Indian women used the fruits to wean their babies, by smearing the bitter juice on their chichis. When the baby tries to suck, he's tricked into thinking that those wonderful chichis have turned bad. A coyote trick. "Chichicoyota," Nabham writes. "Trickster breasts. In English, the're called coyote gourds."

"I'm guessing that chili coyote is a corruption of chichicoyota," Susan says. "Maybe a polite corruption--a way of saying "breast" without saying it. Or maybe somebody had the idea that Coyote peed on a chile pepper and turned it into a chili coyote. Trickster chiles." She grins. "Hey, China. Maybe if you post this in your blog, somebody who's got a better guess will tell us--in time for me to include it in my talk."

Okay, gang, it's your turn. Tell us how the word chichicoyota got to be chili coyote. Susan doesn't leave until the end of March, so you've got plenty of time.

>>Spanish Dagger

Susan's new book is only a month or so away, and she's making plans for her tour through Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Arizona, New Mexico, and Colorado. While she's getting packed, Peggy (our webmaster-beyond-compare) has posted a page of information about the book here. You can read the first chapter there, too.

Actually, I'm still pretty ambivalent about what happened in that case. I'm glad it all got sorted out in the end (well, most of it, anyway). But Ruby had a very hard time of it. And I'm sure that Sheila (that's Sheila Dawson, our esteemed chief of police) didn't appreciate my meddling in the case. But that was in the beginning. In the end, I think she was glad to have the help--especially when Rambo pitched in to lend a hand. No, make that a paw. A big paw. But if I go on, there won't be any mystery, so I'd better stop. If you want to read the book, you know where to find it.

In the meantime, I can at least tell you a little about the signature herb of the book, yucca. Susan borrowed one of its folknames, Spanish dagger, for the title of her book.  If you think of yucca as a plant that grows only in the southwestern deserts, you'd be wrong. This spiky plant, which belongs to the genus Agave, has an enormous distribution, ranging from the Atlantic (Yucca filamentosa) westward to the Pacific (Y. whipplei) and from Canada (Y. glacua ssp. albertana) south into Guatemala (Y. elephantipes). There are some fifty species native to the United States and thirty more to Mexico and Central America, some tall, some short, and all with that star-burst of sharp, spiny leaf-tips, sometimes at the base of the plant, sometimes near the top of the stalk.

So if you're looking for yucca, you'll probably find a native in your neighborhood. And where it's not native--the Atlantic northeast and the Pacific northwest--it has escaped from people's gardens and hightailed it for the wilderness. So you're likely to find it growing there, too.

Yuccas lead an interesting life. They require a specific moth for pollination, and if the right moth isn't hanging around in the neighborhood, the blooms won't produce any fruit. Exclusive company, huh?

I'll be posting more about yuccas over the next few weeks, including some really neat information about the various uses of yucca. So check in on Mondays. And in the meantime, don't forget about that first chapter. It's here.

When you've read it, you'll see why I say "poor Ruby." Really. You'd feel the same way if your mother began stealing--

But there I go again. Just read the chapter, and you'll see what I mean. --China Bayles

>>scratchy throat

It's that time of year when scratchy throats are the rule, rather than the exception. Now, we head for the nearest pharmacy for an over-the counter remedy. But in the old days, Grandma's medicine cabinet was the pharmacy, and her herb garden supplied most of the medicines. Here are a few of her favorite remedies.

• A poultice: The pulp of a roasted apple, mixed with an ounce of tobacco, the whole wet with spirits of wine, or any other high spirits, spread on a linen rag, and bound upon the throat at any period of the disorder.—The American Frugal Housewife, by Mrs. Child, 1833
• A syrup: Take of poplar bark and bethroot [lamb’s quarters, Trillium pendulum], each 1 lb.; water, 9 quarters; boil gently in a covered vessel 15 or 20 minutes; strain through a coarse cloth; add 7 lbs. loaf sugar, and simmer till the scum ceases to rise.—Family Hand Book, c. 1855
• A candy. Horehound lozenges are good for a sore throat. A Dictionary of Every-Day Wants, by A. E. Youman, M.D. 1878
• A bedtime snack: Water-gruel, with three or four onions simmered in it, prepared with a lump of butter, pepper, and salt, eaten just before one goes to bed, is said to be a cure for a hoarse cold.—The American Frugal Housewife, by Mrs. Child, 1833
• A Hot Toddy and a Cuddle: Before retiring soak the feet in mustard water as hot as can be endured . . . . On getting into bed take a hot camphor sling. [A hot toddy made with brandy or rum, honey, and tincture of camphor, Cinnamonum camphora] Rub the bridge of the nose between the eyes with a little oil. Cuddle in bed and sleep it off.—Healthy Living,1850-1870, compiled by Katie F.  Hamilton

If these remedies don't work, here's one that will, according to recent science. Gargle with a strong sage tea (Salvia officinalis). Studies have found that sage has antibacterial, antifungal, and antiviral properties. To make the tea: pour two cups boiling water over 4 teaspoons dried sage. Steep 8-10 minutes. Gargle several times a day. Refrigerate the unused portion and warm before gargling.

For more herbal lore, remedies, recipes, garden ideas, crafts, and just plain fun, read The China Bayles' Book of Days.

>>herbal hangover remedies

It's New Year's Day here in Pecan Springs, and many of our friends are recuperating from a little too much bottled happiness on New Year's Eve. Since this is a problem that's been with us since somebody first discovered the intoxicating power of fermented grain, we've collected a few tips on ways to handle a hangover. If you're suffering, maybe one of these will help.

Homer Mayo swears by the prickly pear cactus remedy that his daddy taught him. He felt pretty good last New Year's Day, especially after he read in the newspaper that scientists say that this really works. He says to drink it before you start on the hard stuff.

Homer's pal, Pete Hitchens, has a different cure. He mixes a cup of sauerkraut juice with a generous shot of Bloody Mary mix, for taste. In a couple of hours, he's feeling fit enough to turn on the TV and watch the bowl games.

Pansy Pride, president of the Myra Merryweather Herb Guild here in Pecan Springs, has a great deal of faith in a ginger-peppermint-feverfew tea, sweetened with 2-3 teaspoons honey. Ginger and peppermint are well-known stomach soothers, and feverfew is a time-tested headache remedy. The potassium in the honey will help to counteract the effects of the alcohol. Pansy's other remedy is just-say-no, but that never gets her very far.

Constance Letterman, who runs the Emporium, next door to Thyme & Seasons, lays in a supply of kudzu extract before the holidays. She read an article that claims that kudzu's isoflavones, diadzin and puerarin, will relieve the pain of over-indulgence. I was glad to hear this. A plant as prolific as kudzu has got to be good for something. (Actually, it's good for a lot of things, besides eating fences, telephone poles, and whole hillsides. You can read about them here. Scroll down the page for an intriguing recipe for kudzu blossom jelly. Now, aren't you glad you read this blog?)

For Ruby, thyme heals all things, including hangovers. She brews up a tea of crushed fresh or dried leaves, let's it steep for six or seven minutes, strains, and drinks.

Personally, I'm a firm believer in the power of milk thistle, or silymarin. It prevents toxins from entering liver cells and helps remove existing toxins. Take two 70 mg capsules before you head for that party.

All your friends in Pecan Springs send you a great big wish for a New Year that is happy and bright. We're praying for peace, too, and some good sense in Washington. We don't know about your town, but a whole lot of us here would be glad to have our military men and women back home with us to celebrate New Year's, 2008. Wouldn't that be a wonderful party?

>>Ruby's post: Sagittarius herbs

This week (November 22), the Sun enters the sign of Sagittarius--your month, all you Sagittarians out there! Jupiter is your ruler, the planet of good fortune, plenty, and joy. And with six planets in Sagittarius next month, you should have just about all you can handle, and then some!

Herbs of Sagittarius (If you're not familiar with the traditional concepts relating herbs and astrology, you might want to read my earlier post about this.)

The planet Jupiter, named for the Roman god of the sky, is said to rule the hips, thighs, lower spine, and the autonomic nervous system, as well as the process of growth and self-preservation. It also governs the body’s largest glandular organ, the liver. Herbs related to Jupiter have traditionally been used to treat lower back problems, arthritis, and rheumatism, and to deal with liver ailments. Because Jupiter is the largest planet, it was thought to rule large plants, such as trees and plants with long and deep taproots. Herbs of Sagittarius include:

• Willow (Salix sp). A tea made of the bark of the willow reduces the pain and inflammation of rheumatism and arthritis. Its chief constituent, methyl salicylate, is the primary ingredient in aspirin.
• Dandelion (Taraxacum officinale). A useful herb, dandelion has been shown to stimulate the flow of liver bile. The seventeenth-century herbalist Nicholas Culpeper (who assigned this plant to Jupiter) says it is “very effectual for removing obstructions of the liver, gall bladder, and spleen.”
• Sage (Salvia officinalis). Sage has been used for centuries as a powerful preservative; research indicates that it contains antioxidants, which slow spoilage. Sage is used to treat wounds, ease gastrointestinal complaints, and heal sore throat and bleeding gums.
• Other Sagittarius herbs include dock (another traditional liver herb); lime blossom, meadowsweet (also contains methyl salicylate and can be used to treat rheumatism); costmary; chicory.

Whether or not you accept the ancient belief in a connection between the plants and the planets, it's interesting to know how people thought. And these medicinal uses of herbs are still with us today. You don't have to be a Sagittarian to benefit from willow, dandelion, and sage!

O! Mickle is the powerful grace that lies
In herbs, plants, stones and their true qualities;
For nought so vile that on the earth doth live
But to the earth some special good doth give.
—William Shakespeare

>>Ruby's post: Scorpio herbs

Today, the Sun enters the sign of Scorpio. In early times, Scorpio was ruled by the planet Mars; now, it is considered to be ruled by Pluto. (If you're worried that Pluto's recent demotion from planet status to "dwarf planet" will change your astrological signature, read this explanation of why it won't.)

In China's Book of Days, you'll find an interesting entry for October 23, about Scorpio herbs. (Don't tell anybody, but China didn't write that entry--I did! In fact, I wrote all the pieces about herbs and astrology that appear in China's book. It's one of my special interests, along with Tarot and the I Ching, things like that. If you've ever visited my shop, The Crystal Cave, you'll understand.)

Until a few hundred years ago, the idea of writing about astrology and herbs together would have seemed perfectly natural. In earlier times, people saw all things as parts of one coherent whole. They applied their understanding of one aspect of the cosmos—the planets, say—to all other parts: the plants and animals, as well as the human body. In this scheme of things, certain herbs were classified as “belonging” to certain planets. So if you were born under that planet’s influence, or if you had some sort of ailment related to that planet, you would have a special interest in those herbs.

Scorpio is said to rule the process of catabolism and anabolism, the continuous death and regeneration of body cells, and cleansing and the elimination of toxins. Pluto’s regenerative and transforming influence also manifests itself in the sexual union (Mars rules sexual desire). So Scorpio herbs are those that help to cleanse, rejuvenate, and restore. They include (among others):

• Ginseng. The Chinese value ginseng above most other herbal remedies, using it as a general tonic, restorative, and aphrodisiac. Research suggests that ginseng combats stress and fatigue and may counteract the effects of toxins.
• Wormwood, southernwood, and other artemisias have been used to cleanse the body of intestinal parasites.
• Black cohosh (Actaea racemosa) and blue cohosh (Caulophyllum thalictroides) are traditional remedies for regularizing the menstrual cycles.
• Aloe vera has a laxative effect, cleaning the liver and kidneys. Used externally, the gel (which contains allantoin) helps to heal and regenerate tissue.
• Dong Quai root is a general tonic for menstrual cramps, irregular cycles, and menopause. It is also used as a blood purifier.

Even if you don't believe in a connection between the planets and plants and think this is all silly superstition, perhaps you'll find the history of this belief interesting.

Wonderful tales had our fathers of old--
Wonderful tales of the herbs and stars--
The Sun was Lord of the Marigolds,
Basil and Rocket belonged to Mars.
Put as a sum in division it goes--
(Every planet had a star bespoke)--
Who but Venus should govern the Rose?
Who but Jupiter own the Oak?
--Rudyard Kipling, "Our Fathers of Old"