Order Only: The Sanctuary
Jul. 24th, 2009 04:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alt_poppyOh, my. I've been meaning to write to you about what we are up to here at the Sanctuary, but the days have been so full that I never seem to think of writing. I have given everyone here a thorough looking over--some of them more willingly than others. (Why, yes, I am speaking of you, Frank Longbottom!) The children who have been here all along just needed a once-over and to have their annual anti-infective doses for all the usual things, including a refresher course of the standard Healthy Bones potion. I was more popular for the toffees I brought which promote sharp hearing and vision--those taste good, which is, I admit, all too rare with medicinal substances.
Of course, those who have come recently to the Sanctuary after years in the camps--the Turners and the McGiverns, particularly, as well as the small Fawcett child--they have needed a bit more attention. I'm pleased to say, however, that everyone is in reasonably good shape, though there are a few ailments of a chronic nature that some of them will need to manage going forward.
We've had several fair days in a row this week, so Stephen McGivern and I have taken the older children out to learn about the island's plants and to help us collect some of them. Our first success was Marsh Woundwort, which is one of the key ingredients in All-Heal pastes because it stems bleeding, keeps wounds clean, and works wonders even on very deep cuts. Its roots and stems can also be eaten, though the smell of the stems bubbling in a pot is not especially appealing, so I doubt it will become a staple of meals here at the Sanctuary unless other, more savory items become scarce.
Speaking of things to be eaten, we came across quite a lot of Lamb's Lettuce, which some call 'Cornsalad'; its tender leaves (picked in spring and in autumn, but not in this summer season whilst it flowers) are lovely in salads. McGivern made himself a note to return and collect its seeds in order to sow a test crop in the kitchen garden this autumn.
On the opposite tack, we had occasion to teach the importance of distinguishing between wild celery, water parsnip and Hemlock Water Dropwort (called Dead Tongue colloquially), which is perilous if eaten. (It doesn't even have much medicinal use, though it is reputed to have been used in field hospitals--and certain notorious dungeons--for its paralysing effect on the organs of speech.)
Happily, we were able to collect some Water Figwort, which is excellent in fighting nightmares, and a plentiful supply of Cudweed for the Quinsy Quaff, which McGivern himself devised and has promised to show me. Apparently, it's a real advance over the old treatments for sore throats that go from inflamed to infected in the blink of an eye. We also trussed up a nice mound of Restharrow, which he will use in a restorative for Victor Scrim, who is having some difficulty making water and is suffering swelling in his extremities as a result. It is our plan to settle in and get some serious brewing done over the weekend.
Whilst the rest of us were spading up plants and packing them for transport, young Mr Creevey was busy sketching each item we encountered. He is really very talented as an artist, and such an eager boy. (I was stunned to realise that he is brother to that small serving lad the Marvolo boy brought to the school. I-- Well, suffice it to say that the contrast is appalling.) I had shown Mr Creevey my notebooks and discussed the purpose of keeping a visual record, even one so unskillful as mine, of the items one collects or leaves uncollected in the field, so he took over that task for me on our recent expeditions. I wish I had his ability. Or, failing that, I'd quite like to have his assistance! Yesterday morning after breakfast he shared with me some of the drawings and watercolours he's made--many of them showing the island's animals and birds. His portfolio includes little sketches of lizards and mice, an elegant watercolour of a large grey heron, and another, showing one of the most expressive seals you've ever seen. There was also an impressive study of a Merlin on the wing, followed by a series of quick sketches of the Merlin catching some hapless songbird--a most vivid scene of claws, beaks, and frantic wings! He also seems fond of drawing rabbits and hares (and he was able to tell me in great detail about the differences between them). He asked if I might like one of his drawings, and so I chose this handsome rabbit to keep in my notebook. I trust that it is not abusing his generosity to share it with you.
As you can see, I am having a lovely time here. There are fresh things for meals, drawn from the garden and the sea. There is wonderful company and so, so many stories and songs and drawings and jokes--and such laughter! I don't know when I've had such a holiday!
Oh, Alice: I'm not sure we made it clear, but your bouquet of harebells, came courtesy of the little Bookman boy. It seemed he thought of you each time we saw a pretty flower. Sadly, most of them were weedy, low sorts of things that didn't lend themselves to a cut arrangement. And then there was the Sheep's Bit he was on the verge of adding, but we convinced him that the odour and its appeal to bees would make that a less than happy choice. When we returned home, Miss Little and Miss Saint helped him arrange them in a glass, and I know it was the girls who brought it up to you, so I didn't want the point of origin to have become obscured.
Of course, those who have come recently to the Sanctuary after years in the camps--the Turners and the McGiverns, particularly, as well as the small Fawcett child--they have needed a bit more attention. I'm pleased to say, however, that everyone is in reasonably good shape, though there are a few ailments of a chronic nature that some of them will need to manage going forward.
We've had several fair days in a row this week, so Stephen McGivern and I have taken the older children out to learn about the island's plants and to help us collect some of them. Our first success was Marsh Woundwort, which is one of the key ingredients in All-Heal pastes because it stems bleeding, keeps wounds clean, and works wonders even on very deep cuts. Its roots and stems can also be eaten, though the smell of the stems bubbling in a pot is not especially appealing, so I doubt it will become a staple of meals here at the Sanctuary unless other, more savory items become scarce.
Speaking of things to be eaten, we came across quite a lot of Lamb's Lettuce, which some call 'Cornsalad'; its tender leaves (picked in spring and in autumn, but not in this summer season whilst it flowers) are lovely in salads. McGivern made himself a note to return and collect its seeds in order to sow a test crop in the kitchen garden this autumn.
On the opposite tack, we had occasion to teach the importance of distinguishing between wild celery, water parsnip and Hemlock Water Dropwort (called Dead Tongue colloquially), which is perilous if eaten. (It doesn't even have much medicinal use, though it is reputed to have been used in field hospitals--and certain notorious dungeons--for its paralysing effect on the organs of speech.)
Happily, we were able to collect some Water Figwort, which is excellent in fighting nightmares, and a plentiful supply of Cudweed for the Quinsy Quaff, which McGivern himself devised and has promised to show me. Apparently, it's a real advance over the old treatments for sore throats that go from inflamed to infected in the blink of an eye. We also trussed up a nice mound of Restharrow, which he will use in a restorative for Victor Scrim, who is having some difficulty making water and is suffering swelling in his extremities as a result. It is our plan to settle in and get some serious brewing done over the weekend.
Whilst the rest of us were spading up plants and packing them for transport, young Mr Creevey was busy sketching each item we encountered. He is really very talented as an artist, and such an eager boy. (I was stunned to realise that he is brother to that small serving lad the Marvolo boy brought to the school. I-- Well, suffice it to say that the contrast is appalling.) I had shown Mr Creevey my notebooks and discussed the purpose of keeping a visual record, even one so unskillful as mine, of the items one collects or leaves uncollected in the field, so he took over that task for me on our recent expeditions. I wish I had his ability. Or, failing that, I'd quite like to have his assistance! Yesterday morning after breakfast he shared with me some of the drawings and watercolours he's made--many of them showing the island's animals and birds. His portfolio includes little sketches of lizards and mice, an elegant watercolour of a large grey heron, and another, showing one of the most expressive seals you've ever seen. There was also an impressive study of a Merlin on the wing, followed by a series of quick sketches of the Merlin catching some hapless songbird--a most vivid scene of claws, beaks, and frantic wings! He also seems fond of drawing rabbits and hares (and he was able to tell me in great detail about the differences between them). He asked if I might like one of his drawings, and so I chose this handsome rabbit to keep in my notebook. I trust that it is not abusing his generosity to share it with you.
As you can see, I am having a lovely time here. There are fresh things for meals, drawn from the garden and the sea. There is wonderful company and so, so many stories and songs and drawings and jokes--and such laughter! I don't know when I've had such a holiday!
Oh, Alice: I'm not sure we made it clear, but your bouquet of harebells, came courtesy of the little Bookman boy. It seemed he thought of you each time we saw a pretty flower. Sadly, most of them were weedy, low sorts of things that didn't lend themselves to a cut arrangement. And then there was the Sheep's Bit he was on the verge of adding, but we convinced him that the odour and its appeal to bees would make that a less than happy choice. When we returned home, Miss Little and Miss Saint helped him arrange them in a glass, and I know it was the girls who brought it up to you, so I didn't want the point of origin to have become obscured.
no subject
Date: 2009-07-25 03:34 am (UTC)Freddy can be such a sweet boy, when he's not neck deep in trouble. He was probably preemptively apologising for something he's planning to do.
I'm so glad you've been having a good visit. Stephen thinks the world of you, you know, and the children loved the chance to go tromping around out-of-doors.
no subject
Date: 2009-07-25 03:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-25 03:38 am (UTC)And I also know that you probably feel less stiff now that it's been looked after, and will finally let Stephen give you some of that poultice he's been trying to get you to try for ages so that you will stay that way.
no subject
Date: 2009-07-25 03:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-25 03:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-25 03:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-25 03:45 am (UTC)I'll still love you regardless, even if you are a fishy-potato gimp.
no subject
Date: 2009-07-25 03:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-25 03:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-25 03:49 am (UTC)Order Only
Date: 2009-07-25 02:34 pm (UTC)His tonsil cure is quite elegant! Honestly, it's a crime he can't publish his experiments. We're all the poorer for having lost him from our society: he's a very clear example of the utter madness of our Protectorate's policies.
no subject
Date: 2009-07-25 01:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-25 07:00 pm (UTC)I'm leaving him with a spare notebook of mine. I hadn't thought to bring art supplies, but it is certainly something they could use here for more than just Mr Creevey. The children have drawn on everything that can be spared for that purpose. They've decorated old copies of the Prophet and the Quibbler, but there aren't many of those here since it's not as though Arabella or Frank or Alice can take out a subscription! Judith Bookman, who teaches the children, tells me she's had Alice and Frank try transfiguring various things into chalk the children could use on the pavement in the courtyard, but they've never had much success with the colour or the texture. (One unfortunate experiment can still be seen on the the kitchen doorstep, which is covered with oily brown stick drawings that will simply not consent to be scrubbed away!)
How is summer treating you, Molly? Are the boys staying busy and out of trouble?