My wonderful, sweet neighbour, Julia, passed away recently; she was in her 90’s, and until shortly before she died, had lived in her own home, independent to the last. I didn’t get to spend as much time as I would have liked with her in the past couple of years, for which I feel guilty; yet, at the same time, with small children (or children at all) there is only so far you can stretch. And yet, I still feel guilty, and even more so because I miss her very much. I have such a deep sadness when I think of her or drive past her house. Guilt mixed with joy that we did know her, and that she was so part of our lives (Liam and Michael came in a few days ago, and were telling me that the nettles were coming up: every year I made nettle soup in spring and we brought it up to Julia- it’s a great blood tonic- so it became a little tradition when the bright green nettles started their garden take-over. I reminded them that Julia had passed away, and it was awful, the remembering that it really did happen coupled with the shock of remembering. Life sometimes can be very unflinching at times)
(We were in the garden, talking about Julia, when Grace handed me this white feather)
Alongside the nettles shooting up, we have had a few falls of snow. When this happens, I try to have the wit to collect some. I let it melt down to water, then keep it in a labelled bottle: snow water. This was one of Julia’s folk-cures (she had encyclopedic folk-cure knowledge). Funnily enough, the very day after I collected the snow, I burnt myself badly on the hand. It was incredibly sore and starting to blister. I took homeopathic Cantharis (hugely helped the pain as always) but resigned myself to having a gukky blister burn for a few days.
(I’m just hoping that is only Nutella smeared across Grace’s face. I seriously hope so. As for her jumper… I will really have to try preempt any future photo opportunity and ensure my children aren’t so completely manky-feral)
Michael asked me why I hadn’t used the snow water we had collected the day before. I may have blamed the burned hand for not using my head and remembering…! I poured some on and held a cold wet cloth of snow water to my hand. After an hour or so, I took notice of the burn. It was still slightly stingy, and part-raised where it had started to blister an hour before. The following day, I had a mere mark where the burn had been, and nothing else. It had faded almost completely.
And there you have it! Julia’s cure for burns: I urge you to try it. Collect some snow the next time it falls (I may have missed the boat on this, it being March. Although, this IS Ireland, and anything is possible) Worth a try 🙂
For Julia
The frost hadn’t cleared.
It still lay in flurries,
like snow in the shadows,
Mottled where the rising sun
was beginning to patter with warmth.
It lay, mounded,
either side of the polytunnel
where it had gracelessly slid;
Painted the north side of branches white,
Speckled gate posts with it’s graduated hue.
The wreath for Julia’s grave
Lay waiting on the picnic bench
The cockerel fluttered into standing beside it;
Gleaming red in the morning sun,
large claws sinking into the frosted wood,
Chest swelling
As he drew his head back to crow.
Ah. So lovely. She can live on in the wounds she heals. That’s not a bad way to be remembered actually! X
Ha! Helen, never thought of it like that!!
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That is an intriguing cure. I must remember it for next winter.
It really is, isn’t it Fionnuala? People used to come for miles to get the snow water for burns!
Sorry to hear that, Ems. Fantastic regarding the cure, though. Her wisdom lives on.
It`s beautiful how you write about it Emily, and I had never heard it before. But I certainly agree, it`s worth trying… I hope it also works with foreign snow 😉
Lovey post as usual Emily. And how interesting about the snow water!
WW, it is fascinating, isn’t it? Tell your boys now, and they can be on a mission next snowfall 🙂
You can be our official tester Rosa 😉 !
Nuala, it really is so interesting, she had loads of “cures”. A really extraordinary woman x
Oh, Emily, I’m so sorry for your loss. Of course you have nothing to feel guilty about but you don’t need me to tell you that. I am fascinated by the healing properties of snow water, this is the first I’ve ever heard of it. It sounds like Julia picked the right woman to pass on her knowledge to. Your poem is just beautiful, a gorgeous tribute. And I love Grace giving you the white feather.
What a lovely post and such an interesting cure, must remember for next winter, I love folk cures so feel free to share any others.
I loved this post Emily, and I’m sure Julia did too.
My nanny told me about March snow, and it really does work. I wish I knew all the wisdom she had. I was 10 when she passed away. If you have more folk remedies, I love to hear them.