Having Class

I’m taking classes to be certified in Herbalogy (study of herbs) for my own personal use (and any Family, Friend or sickie not afraid of my up and coming arsenal of plant medicine). Yes, soon you may even call me a “witch” without having to be stitched up. It’s held at a nearby Homeopathic School, where at times, I feel like a Republican at a Hippie convention. The people are all very enthusiastic, young, beautiful and friendly. I’m the quiet, mysterious, older women writing down every word  the instructor says…I swear. I type my notes later and I’m lucky if I can read them. I’m still trying to figure out what zapsmere means.

Tonight, I almost swallowed my tongue trying not to laugh at the notice on the board and the Instructor’s mention of the “found belly ring”. The article itself was then taped to the note for the owner to claim. I waited half afraid and half anticipation for whoever lost it to reclaim it… knowing full well my snorting would disgrace me. They don’t tell you learning can be so entertaining but I think that’s why they make you pay. I don’t want to think about how it got lost…or found.

At one point, a young woman came in late with her dog. Just when I thought it must be stuffed because it just laid there on her lap in a coma, I overheard the dog was “in training”…for what, I never did find out. I did watch people try to pet the poor dear and she had to keep repeating “in training”. It was the cutest dang thing I ever saw…well except for that sock monkey commercial.

Tonight after passing a boatload of vodka around the room (medicinal use people) we made our first “tincture” (which I had to look up the previous week). Everyone else was up on them and the proper pronunciation. I realized it was the stuff in my health food store with the eye dropper. Another mystery over. Now if I could just learn to make marshmallows…

I’m totally looking forward to the field-trip coming up. I believe it’s illegal to “harvest” wild plants in a National or State Park. I’m definitely bringing my camera for when the authorities come to get us. After a few journalist worthy shots I’m gonna run like Hell.

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