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Today I got a phone call from a local customer. This person has purchased medicine from me in the past (though very infrequently). She knows me and what I do. She was looking for a hard-to-find plant medicine for an issue she is dealing with and asked if I had any prepared. I told her that I did, that it was very high quality and stronger than a regular strength tincture (it was a soxhlet extract), so she would need far less for each dose. She asked the price and I told her $15 for a one-ounce bottle. She immediately told me that it was too expensive. I told her that it is more than I charge for a regular tincture, and again explained that she would need less per dose and so the bottle would last her roughly 3 times as long. She did not buy from me. It’s OK. Maybe she will find it elsewhere for cheaper.

There was a time when I would have caved in a situation like this. There was a time when I would have questioned the worth of my work, my products, or if I should even be charging money at all. There was a time when as soon as someone started to say my prices were too high I would immediately jump to lowering them or even just giving stuff away. 
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I don’t do that anymore.

That is not to say that I don’t give discounts or even gifts on occasion. But here is the thing… This is my work. This is my job. It has expenses, labor, education, plus my heart and soul poured into it. I’m proud of what I do, and I love this work too. (Is it OK to charge money for doing something you love? Hell yeah! I wish everyone could love what they do and thrive doing it too.)

We had new gutters put on our house this year by a local guy. He did a great job and we gladly paid him for his work. We had an electrician come out, and plumbers, we paid them all. They did good work. Herbalism is a skill just like any other skill. It requires education, practice, investment, and a good work ethic. But ultimately, if we don’t value what we do, how can we expect that of anyone else?

Now, the extract mentioned in the story above was made with plants I grew and harvested in my own garden at the peak of vitality. They were processed by hand and carefully dried to preserve quality. Once dried they were ground up into a fine powder. Then they were processed into a very strong extract using organic cane alcohol (that stuff ain’t cheap), using glassware that cost hundreds of dollars. The resulting quality of this medicine can only be found with small scale community herbalists like myself and others scattered across the country (and the world), making good medicine for their local communities.

I’m not writing all this because I am bitter or angry. Quite the opposite. I’m writing this because the interaction I described above made me realize that I have reached a point in my practice where I am comfortable with my own knowledge of the value of my work. I don’t need every other person I interact with to also value it (that will never happen), but I also don’t need the judgement of each person to make me question my own worth.

I am a good community herbalist. I’m still learning and growing (that will never end), but I teach what I know, I make good medicine, and I am confident in my skills. If this is something you value, I am here to serve you. 
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May we all stand in our own worth and power.
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The nettles are coming up!

I love all the spring greens, don’t get me wrong. Late March and early April is the time of year here in the Mid-Atlantic region for foraging wild greens even before the first early lettuces are available at the farmer’s market. Our bodies crave these nutrient-dense foods after the dark, cold winter months. But there is something about nettles that stirs up some extra excitement when it emerges from its underground slumber.

Nettles was one of my first ally plants when the world of herbal medicine was still new to me. In my 20’s I would drink quarts of nettle tea daily. I must have been lacking some vital nutrients back then (too much partying and not great diet, a’hem) because I could feel the effects immediately. It was like I was being energized. I’m serious. I felt like energy was running up and down my arms and legs. The more I drank, the more I felt revitalized. 

We could say that nettles increases our energy because it is so nutrient-dense, and it is. With a nutrient list including chlorophyll, calcium, chromium, magnesium, zinc, potassium, protein, riboflavin, selenium, silicon, thiamine, and vitamins A, C, and K how could it not be? But the medicine of any one herb is always so much more than the sum of its parts. For me, nettles embodies strength and fortitude. Even its sting is full of energy! It gets things moving!

I love teaching about nettles because many people are actually afraid of this plant. Often, they have had a bad experience, a run-in with a nettle patch (quite literally), maybe as a child. The memory of a plant that did them wrong, causing painful welts on the skin, has stuck with them over the years and created judgements about the plant. I gently re-introduce them to nettles. I talk about all the gifts the plant has to offer. Things like help for our seasonal allergies, strength for our bones, nourishing and toning the kidneys, steadying blood sugar levels, increasing our ability to focus and concentrate, and, of course, increasing our energy! It is safe, I tell them, safe enough for pregnant and nursing mamas to take for its strengthening effect on the uterus, and supportive effect on breast milk. Even the sting is medicine… urtication has been a practice for thousands of years as folks would purposefully sting their arthritic joints to allay pain (I’ve had students do this and report back that yes, it is true!). With all these benefits, nettles begins to look less intimidating. Folks start to become receptive.

Yes, you may get stung. It is true. But nettles is worth it. And, truth be told, the sting is part of the medicine (aside for utication, I mean). Nettles demands attention. This plant teaches us to be in the moment, to be mindful of the task at hand. If we go to the nettle patch with scattered thoughts and our heads in the clouds we will get stung. But if we go with purposeful intention, with our hearts full of gratitude and minds set to the task. If we grasp the tops of the tender plants firmly, make our cut, and place our harvest in the basket with steady hands, then it may just keep its sting to itself. In this way we can gather our harvest with bare hands and brave hearts. We can give thanks for the medicine and tend our patch. We can heal our relationship with this plant that demands attention with every interaction.

Anyone who works with the healing plants should have a nettle patch. This plant is too valuable, and its teaching too important to not have it as a resident in the garden. Plant nettles along stream banks or in low-lying areas where water tends to flow. Nettles like moist ground. Give it space to spread and even move around a bit (plants like to choose their own locations after all). Go out and sit with the nettles… notice the energy of this plant… open your heart up to the feeling quality of its presence. And then bring it into your kitchen! You can prepare nettles any way you would prepare a dark leafy green. Cooking, blending, and processing all remove the sting and make nettles safe to eat. I love adding young nettle tops to soups and stir fries. Or throw them in the blender when making a smoothie. The top few inches of new growth is what you want. And you can keep cutting until the plant begins to flower.  If fresh nettles are not an option for you, you can purchase dried nettles and make tea daily. A few tablespoons in a quart of hot water, steeped for 15 minutes gives you a lovely nourishing tea. Sweeten if you like, or just enjoy the earthy rich flavor of the nettles themselves.

Nettles are safe to take over time and even more beneficial if used long-term. This building and nourishing plants has a slow and steady medicine that gently guides us back to strength and health. I have seen some folks have reactions to nettles though. If you’ve never used this plant, start slow. Take a small amount and observe. If you feel fine, take a bit more. The vast majority of folks do fine with nettles, and even grow to love this plant for its many gifts of nourishment and teaching.

I’ll be teaching a free class on all my favorite wild spring tonics on Wednesday, April 7th, at 7 pm. This is an online class hosted by the School of Living. If you would like to join us, you can register using this link… https://www.schoolofliving.org/archives/events/discovering-the-springtime-medicine-in-your-front-yard-and-beyond-with-april-coburn

And for the entire month of April I will be sharing posts about how I am using the spring tonic plants in my own practice for subscribers to my Herbalist’s Journal. You can check out all the subscription levels and join here… https://www.patreon.com/nettlejuice

Guest post by Tiffany Robbins

A few weeks ago, my husband and I decided it was time to turn the gigantic compost pile that amassed under the Yew tree. Our family has been composting since forever. A few years back, we decided to stop taking the compost to other sites and to keep the compost in our own yard. I always had good intentions to use the compost to fertilize our garden. Each year, time slipped away. It seemed easier just to get mushroom compost, because of our close proximity to Kennett Square, PA, the mushroom capital.

My husband had built a quite large compost bin out of recycled wood pallets. Although, I asked him to divide it into three sections, so that sorting the compost would be easier. He decided one big compost bin would suffice (side eye). It held up fine for many years. This year, when the sides started to collapse, became the impetus to finally turn, separate, and sift the compost. Everyone has their own technique for doing this. We argued whose way was better. In the end, we settled on a fusion of his and my techniques, lol. We purchased a roll of fine, wire mesh from the local big box hardware store. We layered the mesh over the wheel barrel and sifted the compost through it. He liked to hold the wire mesh and shake the compost through the fine holes. I liked to run my hands through the compost and press the compost through the holes. His way was much faster, mine more efficient. With shovels in hand, we had a rhythm going between us and the lovely compost.

I absolutely love the smell of fresh soil! As us Master Gardeners say, “Dirt is what is between your fingernails, soil is what makes your garden grow”. Fresh soil is so primal. I think this must be my Earth element speaking. It is no wonder when you smell fresh topsoil, why writers describe it as the fragrant earth. The cooling, grounding attributes of nutrient rich soil is so appealing to a society much in need.

Ok, you may be wondering, why is she going on and on about compost? Well, I see compost as a metaphor for what is going on in the world right now. Compost is good for what ails us. We are taking old ways and putting them in the ground to be decomposed. It takes a lot of energy for the Earth to do this. It is done through the circular interplay of decomposers and substrate.

As my husband and I separated larger pieces of organic matter to get to the decomposed organic matter, wonderful finds were made. Lost silverware miraculously was rediscovered. Old pieces of the children’s toys turned up and made us reminisce of days gone by too soon. No one owned up to tossing those pieces of nostalgia into the compost bin. Do you have fairies or sprites in your compost bin too? Big, fat, long, well fed earthworms were busy doing their work. There was so much activity going on under that seemingly inanimate pile of compost. In the midst of the compost pile was a sweet potato plant growing. We had done little to facilitate the actions, besides the occasional tossing of brown leaves. Nature just took her course, by offering showers of wet rain and snow, and the ever-warming sun.

As we worked our way through the compost, I kept stopping to pluck out those little annoying stickers that are put on produce in the grocery stores. How many times had I told the hubby and the children to remove them?  A pet peeve of mine. I wanted neat and tidy compost. Just like some people want neat and tidy reform in this country. Well, we all know it doesn’t happen like that.

I have some friends, who refuse to put orange peels in their compost for fear of making it too acidic. If you are growing blueberries or hydrangeas you need the pH of the soil to be more acidic. Don’t be so judgmental of what people choose to compost!

I think how we are gauging the PH balance, parts of humanity, really has to do with what one sees as useful. When amending the soil to grow a vegetable garden, one needs to know what types of veggies need what type of soil. Organic and Biodynamic gardening principles such as crop rotation, amending the soil, companion planting, succession planting and pollinators all become important. Weeding, deadheading, singing and talking with your plants, planting and harvesting with the moon cycles are all practices that we can integrate within societal paradigms. Friends let’s tread softly on the Earth. Let’s make our carbon footprint one that will sustain the next seven generations.

As I write this blog post for Nettlejuice, I am reminded of a class I took with April. In this class she taught about Le Terrain vs. Germ Theory in the science of immunology. It so closely relates to composting vs. the use of pesticides and chemical fertilizers. We as gardeners know that a soil-based pathogen can wipe out our crops. So true also is that the stronger we make the terrain of the soil, the more resilient our crops become. The correlation is that the stronger we make the moral fiber of our society, the few pests will be outnumbered. It’s like contributing to a critical mass.

The most important aspect of composting to me is that we don’t discard or trash what we no longer see as useful. The apple with the flesh still intact is seen as nutritious. Whereas, just the core is seen fit for the garbage. When in fact, there are still parts of the core that is still have value, such as the seeds and the pectin in the core. We do to our elderly population the same thing. We discard them when deemed no longer useful. They are still integral parts of a society. They hold the memory for future generations.

My favorite, most profound composting example is that of the forest floor. Have you ever dug your hand down under the canopy of a pine tree? The layers of dark, rich earth that lay beneath is spectacular! The aroma, the tactile experience, the sight of unseen life, the stories of mycorrhiza. Nature in her infinite wisdom composts so beautifully, so organically!

We must stop with these foolish notions that humans are superior. We have to challenge our belief systems. Do they align with the good of all the planet? We need to amend our soil, build our terrain and nurture goodwill. Like the companion plants, we ought to be good neighbors. Prejudice has no place in our gardens; learn the usefulness of a weed. Here’s to compost!  

Tiffany Robbins is a clinical herbalist in Pennsylvania and teaches at Wisdom of the Plants Seminary, and is a Penn State Master Gardener and Tree Tender. She has taught classes at the New England Women's Herbal Conference, the Mid-Atlantic Women's Herbal Conference, the Allies for Plants and People Conference and other venues. Tiffany is an alumnus of David Winston's Center for Herbal Studies and has studied with many other teachers as well, including Rosemary Gladstar Rocio Alarcón, and Pam Montgomery. Tiffany is a dear plant sister to me and I am honored to thankful to share this journey with her. You can follow Tiffany on instagram @LadyRaw123