Home remedies

Practical, Culinary, and Medicinal Purposes of the Iris, Poppy, and Sage in the Victorian Era

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Isn’t it amazing how plants, including flowers, have so many purposes? Some we still use, others have gotten lost to history. Still, there’s something that really appeals to me about the idea of how close we once lived to nature, and looked to it to solve problems or help us. 

Three that caught my eye, because I have books of the same name, are the iris, the poppy, and sage. In the ninteenth century, you’d likely find each of these in a household garden. They were essential for medicines, manufacturing, and even international trade!

 

The iris is such a beautiful flower. It comes in so many colors! And while in the nineteenth century it was a beautiful decoration in the floral bouquet for many, it’s actually the underground rhizomes, also known as the orris root, that held the highest value commercially. 

When dried, this root could mimic the scent of violets. It was ground up to make Victorian hair powders, to used to scent clothes or keep linens smelling fresh. It also could be distilled into orris oil, which was used in expensive perfumes. 

What would you think if I told you that it was also a common ingredient in toothpastes? It was! But iris was also used internally, brewed into teas that could treat a cough or chest congestion. 

 

 

The poppy was one of the most medically influential plants of the 1800s, and later was used for pain management. In 1804, a German pharmacist learned how to isolate morphine from the opium poppy. In the mid 1800s, that became a really important tool on battlefields to help prevent dysentery, and treat amputation wound pain. 

But it wasn’t just the battlefield doctor who would give medicine from the poppy. When the opium from it was dissolved in alcohol, it made laudanum, which was sold over the counter and considered a sort of cure-all. Doctors would prescribe it for everything from a headache to sleeping poorly to “women’s issues.” There were even some meant to treat colic in infants! 

Aside from the medicinal purposes, the red poppy petals were sometimes used to make ink and to dye fabric. On YouTube, there are actually some videos of people dying fabric with poppy petals, and that’s honestly pretty neat to see. 

 

 

But what about sage? You might already use this herb in your baking. In Victorian gardens, sage had a duel role for both cooking and medicine. If someone had a sore throat, a cough, or a fever, the sage was brewed into a tea. For the woman of a “particular age” this tea also helped to manage symptoms of menopause, in particular hot flashes and night sweats. 

Something else I didn’t know about sage and learned was that while it was used to flavor foods, it was also used to preserve pork and sausage because sage has antimicrobial properties. 

But if you wanted another way to use sage, it was also used as a hair was for dandruff, and also to naturally darken graying hair. 

I admit, sage was so interesting to me, that I went online. Sure enough, there is still sage tea and it’s blended into some unique tea blends. I’m thinking I want to look that up and maybe keep some on hand for a sore throat or that day comes that I get a hot flash! 

These were just three plants, there are dozens and dozens more that had special abilities! But, why did I share about these three in particular? 

Because I have a gift for you. If you’ve never read it, my Garden Belle book Iris is FREE for you. And, if you’ve never read Poppy or Sage, those are on sale for a limited time in the US and UK for just .99. 

 

 

To get Iris: Just click right here!

To get Poppy: Just click right here! 

To get Sage: Just click right here! 

 

And since I’ve been talking about flowers today, and all of the many ways these three were used, what’s a flower or plant that you use in some way, other than to look at?

A 200-Year Tradition – The Old Farmer’s Almanac

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Other than a few rainy days here and there, this summer in North Carolina has been HOT, HOT, HOT! And here it is, September, and temps this week are expected to be close to or exceeding 100 degrees. No cold front in sight. (Sigh)

Curious about what the Old Farmer’s Almanac predicted, I leafed through the 2026 edition. The Almanac said much of the southern and eastern United States is expected to trend hotter than normal throughout the summer, with intense summer heat in North Carolina resulting in especially dry conditions. This prediction has been right on the money as we are in a drought, urged by local water companies to conserve water or pay a fine.

Though I’ve always known about the OFA, I was unfamiliar with the history of the publication. So, here’s what I learned…

For generations, gardeners and farmers have turned to a small, unassuming publication for wisdom on weather, planting, and just about everything under the sun. The Old Farmer’s Almanac is a staple in many households, its yellow cover a familiar sight on bookstore shelves and kitchen counters. It feels like it has been around forever, offering advice with a certain old-timey confidence.

Beyond its famous weather predictions and planting charts lies a rich history full of surprising details. From secret formulas to presidential controversies, the story of the Almanac is as fascinating as its contents. Take a look at some of the most interesting facts about this iconic publication. The world is sad that they have announced they will stop publishing, but their legacy and data will live on in our hearts and online

Before the United States had even seen its third president, The Old Farmer’s Almanac was already in print. First published in 1792 by Robert B. Thomas, this little guide has been in continuous publication ever since. That makes it the oldest periodical in North America.

Thomas, a bookseller, teacher, and amateur astronomer, wanted to create something both “useful, with a pleasant degree of humor.” He clearly succeeded, as it has outlasted countless other magazines and newspapers.

The Almanac’s weather forecasts are legendary, and for good reason. They are created using a secret formula developed by Robert B. Thomas himself. This formula combines the sciences of solar activity (sunspots), climatology (weather patterns), and meteorology (the study of the atmosphere).

While the exact method remains a closely guarded secret, the editors claim it results in 80% accuracy. The formula is said to be kept in a black tin box at the Almanac’s offices in Dublin, New Hampshire. This commitment to a proprietary, time-tested method is unusual in our age of supercomputers and satellite imaging.

Since 1851, The Old Farmer’s Almanac has featured a cover design that includes a portrait of its founder, Robert B. Thomas, alongside Benjamin Franklin. This design, first created by artist Hammatt Billings and engraved by Henry Nichols, has appeared with stylistic updates on nearly every edition since.

The inclusion of Franklin honors his own Poor Richard’s Almanack, which inspired Thomas’s work and helped shape early American publishing.

 

 

For its first 56 years, the publication was known simply as The Farmer’s Almanac. The word “Old” was added to the title in 1848. The change was made by the second editor, John Henry Jenks, to distinguish it from the growing number of competitors and imitators.

This simple word choice was a clever marketing move. It immediately positioned the Almanac as the original, the authentic source of information. In a crowded marketplace, “Old” signaled heritage and reliability. The name change worked, cementing its status as the definitive farmer’s almanac and helping it stand out from the copycats that have long since disappeared.

The first edition in 1792 had a modest print run of 3,000 copies and sold for sixpence. (six cents) From these humble beginnings, its popularity exploded. By its second year, circulation tripled to 9,000. Today, the Almanac boasts a print circulation in the millions and a massive digital audience.

This incredible growth speaks to the universal appeal of its content. While its core audience was once farmers, it now caters to backyard gardeners, amateur astronomers, and anyone interested in a more self-sufficient lifestyle. The Almanac has successfully adapted to the modern world, embracing a digital presence while staying true to its printed roots.

In 1857, a murder trial took a strange turn when a witness claimed he saw the suspect under the light of a bright, full moon. The defense attorney, a young Abraham Lincoln, was skeptical. To challenge the testimony, he consulted The Farmer’s Almanac.

Lincoln used the Almanac to show that on the night of the crime, the moon was in its first quarter and had set before the murder occurred. There would have been almost no moonlight. His clever use of the Almanac to discredit the witness helped his client, William “Duff” Armstrong, get acquitted. The event, which became known as the “Almanac Trial,” showcased the publication’s accepted authority even in a court of law.

During World War II, the U.S. government grew concerned that the Almanac’s accurate weather forecasts could aid the enemy. In 1942, a German spy was caught ashore on Long Island with a copy in his pocket, fueling fears that it was being used by the Nazis.

The government pressured the Almanac to stop publishing its forecasts. The editor at the time, Robb Sagendorph, traveled to Washington, D.C., to argue his case. He explained that the forecasts were based on a long-standing formula, not state secrets. A compromise was reached: the Almanac could continue publishing, but it had to replace its “forecasts” with more general “weather indications.” This clever wording allowed it to maintain its continuous publication record.

In 1816, the Almanac made a bold and seemingly absurd prediction: snow in August. This forecast was reportedly the result of a printer’s error. When Robert B. Thomas saw the mistake, he was horrified and tried to recall and destroy all the copies. However, he missed a few.

Amazingly, the prediction came true. 1816 became known as the “Year Without a Summer” due to the massive volcanic eruption of Mount Tambora in Indonesia, which spewed ash into the atmosphere and lowered global temperatures. New England experienced frosts and snowfalls throughout the summer, devastating crops. The Almanac’s accidental prediction cemented its reputation for uncanny accuracy, even if this particular instance was a fluke. There are many ways of predicting snow, and this was a classic.

For a publication with such a long history, The Old Farmer’s Almanac has had surprisingly few editors. Since its founding in 1792, only 14 people have held the top editorial job. This continuity is a major reason for its consistent voice and vision.

Each editor is a custodian of the Almanac’s traditions, from the secret weather formula to the founder’s portrait on the cover. This small number of leaders has helped preserve the publication’s unique character. It ensures that while the Almanac adapts to the times, it never loses the core identity that Robert B. Thomas established over two centuries ago.

While famous for its weather predictions and gardening guides, the Almanac is a treasure trove of eclectic information. A typical edition4 contains recipes, jokes, astronomical tables, puzzles, and articles on topics ranging from natural remedies to folklore.

The almanac included tide tables, weather predictions, schedules for colleges and Friends (Quaker) meetings. It gave carriage fares in Boston, postal regulations and advice. For example, along with the dates the courts would open in six states, it offered a morsel about lawsuits.

If your neighbor’s hens or hogs or cattle have trespassed on your crops, and you can get no satisfaction, don’t rush into a lawsuit about it; think it over carefully … The best lawyers advise clients to settle contentions out of court, sometimes even to buy a peace rather than to undergo the cost and worry of a contest.

The Almanac once conducted an experiment comparing Cincinnati flour to Alabama flour to see which made the bigger loaf of bread. Alabama won.

The centennial edition began 1892 year with the admonition “to decide if John or James, or both, shall be sent to the Agricultural College.” It also advised “Get Up early enough in the morning to give all the cattle a good carding.”

Then in October, the almanac warned the farmer not to permit his boys or hired men to shake off good winter apples. They should pick them off and handle them as carefully as if they were eggs, the almanac advised.

This variety is part of its enduring charm. It’s designed to be a companion for the entire year, offering something to entertain, educate, or assist you every day. You might pick it up to check the best days to plant potatoes and find yourself reading about how to predict the weather using a persimmon seed. This blend of the practical and the peculiar is what makes it so beloved.

FUN FACT: The hole drilled through the corner was added in early editions so people could hang it on a nail for easy access.

The Old Farmer’s Almanac is more than a guide; it’s a connection to the past and a tool for the future. Its history shows us the value of blending science with tradition and practicality with a bit of humor. To make the most of this resource, don’t just read it, use it. You can track its weather predictions against your local forecast.

While you won’t be able to find a hard copy anymore, its website is still a treasure trove of information. Use its planting calendar to experiment with a new vegetable in your garden this year. Explore its recipes for a seasonal dish. By actively engaging with its content, you are participating in a tradition that has enriched lives for over two centuries.

Today, The Old Farmer’s Almanac reigns as the oldest continuously published periodical in North America.

If you, your parents, or grandparents read and enjoyed The Old Farmer’s Almanac, please share your thoughts with us.

To stay up on our latest releases and have some fun, too, join our Facebook Reader Group HERE!

 

 

Soaps: Scented and Stinky in the 1800s

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I’m thinking we all take it for granted when we meander down the aisle of a store, choosing a hand soap or bar or gel of soap for the shower. We sniff, appreciating this scent, quickly putting that one up, and deciding which one we like the best. 

But it wasn’t always that way! In fact, back in the 1800s, most soaps didn’t smell that great. While people didn’t bathe nearly as often as we do now, they still used this soap to wash hands and faces, giving the appearance of being clean. While soap was available in stores, and there were several popular brands in the 1800s, such as Pears or Ivorine, or even Wrights tar-coal soap, it was still something made at home by the working class. 

The process of making soap, while dangerous and hard work, could be done by using items already on hand,as it’s a chemical reaction that makes the (basically) two very different ingredients create soap. (In fact, you can make soap yourself!) So, for the thrifty-minded individual, that’s just what they did. To make soap, one needed two main ingredients, lye and a fat. Lye could be made by pouring water over ashes from a fireplace and letting it sit a while, something that was easy to do. The fat could be from cooking or left over from butchering an animal. Also something that was in easy supply. 

Soap was made outside, both because of the heat and the smell. It was incredibly dangerous too, as lye, concentrated down in order to make the soap, is corrosive and it all had to boil for a while, and be stirred. Once it was cooled and molded, it was ready to be used for household or human use. 

But what about the individual who longed to smell like something nice? Not bacon? 

Since a good number of the working class individuals bathed with water alone, (be it in a tub of shared water or by sponging off) due to the harshness of lye soap, and not very often, scented soap was a luxury if they had such a thing. It was used sparingly for the face and hands. Scented soap could be made much the same as our every day soap, but with the addition of herbs and flowers. However, the soap still wouldn’t have smelled quite like what we’d imagined scented soap to smell like. For a good quality luxury bar, it would have been bought at a store, likely imported, such as the Yardley brand, which had been creating scented soap since 1770. 

As the 1800s progressed, more companies began to make soap, and it became more affordable. In the US, Ivory soap was developed in 1879, and in 1884, Sunlight soap was created by the man who would later form the company called Unilever. After a time, especially as manufacturing saved time and money for many, and because larger numbers now lived near cities, buying soap became the way to go. With a mid to late push in the 1800s for cleanliness and the understanding of bacteria and microbes on skin surfaces, a lot of advertising focused on being clean for health. 

Next time you wander the aisles, take a moment to appreciate all of the wonderful scents available to us! Maybe you can even find a bar of Yardley, and join me in marveling how inexpensive it is, compared to how much it likely cost back in the 1800s!

Now, how about a giveaway?

In celebration of a book announcement this fall, with a story taking place in the Blue Ridge Mountains, one random commenter will receive a free ebook copy of my other novella, Frances, that takes place in the Blue Ridge Mountains, and is based on a true story in the 1940s.  

Just tell me…When I was a child, I remember my grandparents only used bar soap. I asked once, and was told that’s what their parents used, and theirs. There was a bar in the bath, by the sink, even in the laundry room for stains. I’m not sure if it’s as common now? Growing up, at home, we had liquid hand soap, and liquid bath soap. A bar of Yardley’s scented soap was a thing to tuck into a dresser door with your unmentionables. Perhaps because it was still considered special?

What was it like for you growing up? Were you a bar or liquid family? 

 

Bet You Didn’t Know This! (Or Did You?) by Pam Crooks

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I’d like to think I’m an observant person, but after preparing for this blog, I’m more clueless than I ever realized.  Some things I see, I just don’t question.  Things that are just THERE, and they go over my head in importance.

Here’s a few:

The little hole in the side of a pen.

Most of us grew up with Bic pens, right?  I used to buy them in 10-packs for the girls.  Of course, I saw the hole, but I never realized without it, the pen would be completely airtight, which would prevent the ink from flowing to the tip, and you couldn’t write.  Also, in really low pressure areas like planes, the pen could explode, spraying ink everywhere.

The hole in the cap of a pen.

Without it, air gets trapped in the cap, creating pressure that will push ink out of the tip.  But more importantly, if someone accidentally swallowed the cap (who among us haven’t chewed on that cap while doing schoolwork?) the hole will help you breathe until it can be surgically removed.  Who knew?

 

 

 

The circle on milk jugs.

 

Since milk is filled to the very brim (customers want absolutely full cartons, you know), in case the jug is dropped, the inverted circle (or a similar design) will expand to prevent bursting.  Also, if you leave the milk in the ‘fridge too long, it will build up gas and expand.  That circle will help there, too.  Ditto when freezing milk, although I always remove about 1/2 cup of milk to allow for plenty of expanding.

The hole in airplane windows.

Have you ever noticed one?  I never have!  But my husband has, and he knew that it is meant to allow air to flow into the plane and regulate pressure.

Arrow on the gas gauge in your car.

Another one I never knew.  Heck, I never even noticed that arrow, at least not enough to question why it was there.  But starting in 2010, all cars were required to have this arrow, which indicates which side the gas tank is located.  Now isn’t that handy?  Especially if you’re driving a rental car or are in long lines waiting to get gas.  Much easier (and less embarrassing) to get on the correct side to fill up the tank!

Why men’s buttons are on the opposite side of women’s.

While buttons have been around since the Middle Ages, they weren’t produced en masse until the industrial age in the late 1800s.  Before then, mostly the wealthy had buttons, and they had maids who dressed them up in those buttons.  So, for the ease of the maids, the buttons were put on the left, but since men mostly dressed themselves, they were put on the right side.  Also, by having the buttons on that side, it was beneficial as men removed their swords during war.  (Okay, I admit – I don’t get that part.)

Tabs on foil or plastic wrap.

I’ve been a housewife for a long, long time, and I never knew this!  In fact, I had to leave my office and check out my foil, wax paper, and cling wrap, and sure enough, the perforated tabs were there, on both ends of each box.  But they are so much a part of the design, and the perforations were hard to see, I’d always missed them.  You can bet I’ll remember now, and they will be a big help in keeping the rolls in their box!

Let’s test YOUR knowledge, okay?  See if you know these handy tips, and I’ll post the answers tonight!  (Please, no Googling!)

1. What is the purpose of the little hole in padlocks?

 

2. Why are headrests detachable?

 

3. What is the purpose of the can’s tab?

 

4. Why does a tube of toothpaste have these colored blocks at the end?

 

5. Why do some garments come with little swatches of fabric?

 

Be sure to check back tonight, and I’ll tell you why!

Home Remedies

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I’ve had a bit of time this week. Just as I was getting over a bad cold, I fell down, and as many of you know, after a certain age, you don’t bounce like you used to. Long story short, I ended up with a badly sprained ankle. (Imagine a purple and blue ankle at least twice the size of a normal ankle.)

When I got home with my rapidly swelling ankle, I looked up what I was supposed to do to treat it and came up with RICE—Rest, Ice Compression and Elevation. I ended up doing RIE, because I didn’t have an Ace bandage for the C component.

Thankfully, I have lots of ice, but I started thinking about how people treated sprains and other maladies before ice was readily available. I discovered that if I sprained my ankle in the 19th century, I should take mud from a mud dauber nest, mix it with vinegar, place the mixture on my sprain and cover it with a stocking.

Here’s the thing–I do have remnant mud dauber nests on my house, but I couldn’t bring myself to try this. Why ruin a good nest when I have ice? But there was probably some science behind this cure, as there was behind a lot of 19th century medicine that did not involve superstitions such as tying knots in dishrags and burying them at midnight (my aunt’s cure for warts). I became curious and looked up a few more cures for common maladies, which I will list below:

Sore throat–rub outside of throat with a mixture of kerosene and butter.

Cuts–apply a spider web. Also, you can treat a cut by packing it with axle grease.

Rashes-treat with urine (I thought this was fascinating because urine is a form of acid which would burn like crazy. Ouch.)

Earache–blow tobacco smoke in the ear canal

Pneumonia–treat with a poultice of tansy weed

Dandruff–mix sulfur with water and apply to head daily

Lice–wash your head with kerosene

Poison ivy–treat with a paste of Fels Naptha soap. (I still use this stuff for laundry. It’s great.)

Bee sting–mix honey and mud from a mud dauber’s nest. (As a kid we used a paste of baking soda and water.)

Burns–put fresh calf manure in a flour sack and cover the burn for 24 hours.

There are so many more but I’ll leave you with these and ask what are some home remedies that you’ve heard of? Or used? I still put soda and water paste on my bee stings, but having read this, I may try honey and mud dauber nest the nest time I have a bad bee encounter.

 

 

 

Petticoats & Pistols