A conversation broke out over a leafy, blue-green mystery plant in a friend’s garden yesterday at work, and I remembered similar back and forth with Mother and Grandmother. Which wild plants are edible, and which are poisonous? In the morning, I’m reading “Indian Uses of Native Plants” From Edith Van Allen Murphey, written before I was even born, trying to remember some of these plants, pictures and names.
I remember a lot of what Grandmother taught me, but not much of what she said. Probably because she said very little. Grandmother showed me wood fences and stone walls were for climbing over, not for stopping at or complaining about at all. The best berries and sweetest flowers might be along the trail the fence-builder had not noticed or thought about when building. She never built a wall, not that I remember. Continue reading