Tales of a Medical Intuitive

This one was hard.  The four friends had travelled several hours to meet with me.  They sat in my living room enjoying their tea, laughing and talking to one another.  I watched my cats.  They always alert me when I need to pay special attention to someone.  Booboo, my sweet, chubby, old black cat was sitting next to one of the men and was gently pawing him in the face.  Booboo never comes out for these things-it is usually Linus at work- but he wanted to make sure I didn’t miss something.  I didn’t.  When the appointment was made over text, I was told that one of them had cancer but I wasn’t told who.  I knew the second he walked in.

I went from person to person, drawing what I saw physically, explaining what was spiritual and what was physical.  Light heartedness filled the room.  Eyes gently filled with tears and nods told me I was connected to Creator and giving information correctly.

Every reading is different.  I hear things from the spirit world.  Sometimes I am a medium.  I feel things intensely; the client’s anxiety, heartbreak, headaches, knee pain.  I am shown things, I see things.  Anything that helps me to understand the message.  Most of the time the person sitting in front of me suspects an illness, or is very open to guidance for their life right now, and knows and understands each thing I say.  Some come in completely closed.

When I got to him, I sensed his wall.  His protection.  His doubt.  His fear.  He had already gone through four rounds of chemotherapy and radiation to no avail.  He still had hope.  I listened.  I drew.  I was shown cancer cells shattering, exploding like a bomb all through his body.  I heard that it was one hundred percent spiritual.  His body looked like a night sky filled with millions of stars.  The cancer was everywhere.  I then heard the words, military, veteran, war, bomb, HSP, empath. 

“Were you in the military?” I asked him.  He shook his head no.

“Are you a highly sensitive person? Do you feel other people’s pain?”  Again, he shook his head no.

What are you guys trying to tell me? I whispered to the spirits.  I immediately felt anger.  I saw him as a little boy being beaten by his father.

“It’s your dad!” I practically yelled.  “Was he in the military?”

“In Korea,” he answered.

I suddenly saw everything clearly.  His father was a highly sensitive person, an empath, forced to be a “man.”  In the war he witnessed and took part in such atrocities that afterwards he became an alcoholic and was very abusive.  These wounds were passed down to the man before me.

I heard that if he did not forgive his father and heal these wounds that he would have no more than two years to live.

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I am not a doctor, of course, so I cannot diagnose.  The majority of people that come to me already know or suspect what is going on.  They can go a holistic healing route with me but I also always recommend that they should see a doctor if they feel that is the right step.

A woman used to come into my shop often to buy medicine for her dog.  She was very religious.  For some reason, many Christians do not believe that God can work this way.  Anything a bit woohoo is probably of the Devil.  So when I saw her heart, I couldn’t just come right out and say something.  I would say every time she came in, “You should try our heart medicine!  It is great!  It’s on sale!  Here I will just give you a bottle to try!”  She would always decline.  I’d ask nonchalantly if she had seen a doctor lately.  She had.  Then she had a massive stroke and a heart attack.

Just because we are sent to be healers in this world does not mean we can heal everyone.  Sometimes it is hard to see but not be able to help.

Sometimes it is easy.  I placed my hand on her foot.  It had been hurting for a long time.  She didn’t show me where it was hurting but my hand instantly went to the hairline fracture.  She was a friend of mine so I told her what I saw and felt and sent her with my bone heal liniment.  She went to the doctor and it was confirmed that she had a hairline fracture in that very place.

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If you have read my memoir, The Making of a Medicine Woman; the Memoirs of Bird Woman, you know that I ran from these gifts for a long time!  But I love being able to offer divine assistance, advice, clarity, reunite loved ones, help people heal physically, mentally, spiritually, and to be a speaker for Creator and the spirit is world is a profound honor.

I have another blog that I usually write these types of things on but I have decided to combine them.  Because they are not separate. I can be a chicken raising, gardening guru, entertainer and chef, crafting farmgirl and also be psychic.  It is what it is.

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So friends, I want to let you know that this is what I do.  I am a medical intuitive and guide.  I do readings over the phone or in person.  My medical intuitive readings include three custom medicines.  I don’t set a timer but readings usually last an hour.  If you feel a nudge from Spirit, feel free to set up a meeting with me.  Katie@PumpkinHollowFarm.net

And click here to order my memoir!

The Innate Healer (and what to do when you cannot help)

I shivered in the cold, forced air of the dim hospital room and pulled my shawl tighter around my shoulders.  I listened to the ominous drone of the heart monitor.  He finally fell asleep.  I watched my child, now a man, lay there in the hospital bed with the flimsy covers upon his slight frame, barely covering his tattooed arms.  His dark hair pressed to the side of his face.  His brow still furrowed from pain.  My baby.  I pulled the covers up around him a bit more and held my breath so not to let the pressing tears release.  Breathe.

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I am considered an expert in my field.  I can tell you about hundreds of local plants, their medicinal properties, growing conditions, contraindications, their uses, how to prepare them, and how to heal nearly every ailment there is.  I am an herbalist, a medicine woman, a plant girl, a lover of nature, a great believer in the original medicine, and a skeptic of modern medicine.  And yet, all the herbal knowledge in the world could not help me as I stood on that cold tile floor.

“Help me, Mom!” he screamed over the phone before I got there.  He went in to the emergency room for a fever and back pain and the hospital gave him a spinal tap.  They missed.  Three times.  Spinal fluid pooled into his lower back and created more pain than my child could handle without madness.  But he was in the hospital now, so it was too late, I could not help.  Except to pull the blankets over his arms to cover the goosebumps.  To kiss his head.

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A few weeks later- last weekend- I stood by the bedside of my grandmother, whose tall, thin frame was dwarfed by the hospital bed and flimsy covers.  The drone of the heart monitor and the bustling of nurses outside the door filled the large, cool space.  My beloved grandma had fallen and just had a partial hip replacement.  Again, I could do nothing but watch her sleep.  My children came.  They gathered in the room and talked wildly, trying to catch up on events since the last time they had seen each other.  My new granddaughter was passed around.  Smiles and laughter filled the space as grandma would slowly open her eyes and look around and grin.  So much life that came from her.

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I am a healer.  We are all healers, especially women.  Any of us would take care of an injured frog, or a stranger, or try to bring life back into someone with warm soup or a hug.  Anxiety fills our chest as we feel the pain of others, see their worries, the punched feeling in the stomach when we know we can do nothing.  That is why so many of us become healers.  We have to do something. 

I have learned that the only thing I can do in cases when no one asks for my help, or I simply cannot help, is to release the outcome.  They might die.  They might not be able to change their life.  They may still have lessons to learn.  They are choosing other options.  They are their own decision makers.  They might be paralyzed.  They might…oh the possibilities of tragedy are endless.  And there we are… trying to save the world.  Sometimes we just cannot help.  Once you can release the outcome, you can then breathe and be there to give love and support or to pull the covers up over chilled arms.  We must release what we cannot control or it will control us.  Give it back to the powers that be.  We can only help ourselves and do what we can for others.

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My husband looked so pale.  A colorless sheen crossed his face as he came out of surgery a few days ago.  (It’s been quite a month, y’all.)  I had released all outcomes.  Whatever happened, happened.  But here he was, smiling dopily from the morphine drip, and a long overdue hernia surgery complete.  At home, I help him in any way I can.  He asks me for help.  I can help him.  I give him my own antibiotics and pain medicines along with his prescribed pain pills.  I make him teas for his digestion and tend to his wounds and bruises.  I am so much better when I feel like I can do something.

Sometimes we can help, sometimes we cannot.  My neighbor called me after badly spraining her ankle yesterday.  I took over some muscle healer and she was at the dog park by the afternoon.

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I feel like it is a very good idea to have some basic knowledge of herbal medicine.  Everyone should know what herbs heal wounds, fight infections, handle pain, and heal.  I currently have two books on this subject on Amazon.  The Herbalist Will See You Now; Your Complete Training Guide to Becoming and Working as an Herbalist and The Homesteader’s Pharmacy; the Complete Guide to Creating Your Own Herbal Pharmacy.

They may just give you one more outlet in which you can help yourself and others.

 

Becoming an Herbalist

I remember the excitement I felt as I turned the pages of herb book after herb book, taking to memory the properties of each flower, the appearance of each wild herb.  Perusing the aisles of the local plant nursery, loading up my cart with herb starts; nettles, motherwort, lavender, rose bushes, lemon balm, valerian.  The feeling of placing the fragrant, cut herbs into clear jars topped with vodka and watching them change in the window.  The sunlight and the moonlight turning flowers into medicine.

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Since those early days, my family and I have literally helped thousands of people heal from ailments ranging from colds to cancer.  We have helped thousands of animals heal from upper respiratory infections, renal failure, to broken bones.  These herbs never fail to surprise me with their swiftness and their powerful healing.  Herbs are about all we use around here on this homestead.

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I opened my school in 2011.  I wrote a text book for the occasion and over the years, with each semester, it changes, gets edited, gets added to, gets taken from, morphs.  It is a tome of information on systems of the body, the herbs that are specific, common ailments, and treatments with herbs.  It is filled with ways to make medicine, how to wild craft, recipes, and wisdom from two retail shops, two websites, hundreds of farmer’s markets, and one family whose only desire was to help the world.

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I closed my school this year and the reins to our apothecary were handed to my daughter, Shyanne.  I still grow most of her herbs and I will always make medicine and trust my beloved plants.  But the chapters before are coming to an end as a new act opens.

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My book, The Herbalist Will See You Now; Your Complete Training Guide to Becoming and Working as an Herbalist has been revised and edited and is now available for you at home to enjoy and utilize on your herbalist journey.  It is a comprehensive training program with worksheets, sample intake forms, even a test at the end that you can walk yourself through to get a thorough and solid foundation to become and work as an herbalist.

My books are all available at AuthorKatieSanders.com.

Or purchase directly from here!

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May you go on to meet and understand the beautiful plants that are our medicine, may you help thousands, may you heal yourself, and may this book bring you as much passion as it gave me writing it!

A Sneak Peak for Blog Readers

We have been busy putting the final touches on my new book and scheduling events and book signings.

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I am both nervous and excited.  To expose the shadow side of things -of people- is to rile up defenses.  To illuminate the things that one has experienced that may seem different to society is to set one’s spirit out in the light.  To write one’s memoir is to be brave.

“So why write it?” I have been asked.  Because I am a writer.  I have no choice but to write.  I get up, I breathe, I write.  In that order.

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This book may expose the shadows (which I had to fight very hard to release my self-imposed secrecy of) but its main job is to illuminate the path for others.

“Why is this book important?” I ask myself, as if I am already being interviewed by Oprah.

Because silence is suffocating and we have stopped talking.  Our children no longer look to the skies and recognize eagles.  Our young people have no idea why they carry around feelings of knowing and intuition.  They suffer from anxiety and low self esteem.  The healers of old stayed quiet out of fear.  To stay quiet is to let hundreds- if not thousands- of highly sensitives, intuitives, medicine people continue to try to be normal.  To take anti-depressants (which lead to suicide in Intuitives).  To possibly never take their place among the people as the seers, light workers, healers, and powerful workers is to allow the darkness to remain as a fog over the world that desperately needs every generation of medicine people to rise. 

My book is now available on Amazon.  I am offering the opportunity to my amazing blog readers to be the first to own this book.  It is on Kindle and in paperback.

I am honored to have been chosen to experience it and to write it.  Wado!

Be Brave Before the People

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There is a reason that it has taken me so long to write this book.

Coqui Ashui,” my friend and Comanche elder would say.  “Be brave before the people.”  To write one’s life story is indeed brave.  To divulge every secret means that relationships may be altered.  Unrepairable.  A good book will leave the reader filled with emotion.  By challenging beliefs and opening up my spirit to the world, I risk leaving myself open to criticism and backlash.

Yet, the resounding voice in my head pushed me forward.  I must write these words.  There are folks out there like me that may find comfort from knowing that there is an entire tribe of us that span the world but we were all taught to be quiet.  Quiet about neglect, about abuse, about abilities and gifts, and enchanted happenings and brilliant triumph and peace.  And we all need the lessons of medicine people from different walks of life.

I originally wrote a book that was a point by point way of embracing the beauty of the world and living to one’s fullest.  However, it came out like a text book.  I wrote my story as if it were a novel.  That way I didn’t have to be afraid.  It came out shallow and devoid of life.  I am nervous, but it is written now.  The whole story.  The whole beautiful, amazing story.  It was healing and inspiring to write.  I loved reliving my lessons with the Native American medicine people, and seeing just how enchanted our life is.  The birds that flock around us and the eagles that circle our house.  The owls.  The people we have met.  The lessons I have learned.  The path to now.  It is all lovely and part of a bigger plan.  I am humbled and honored.

The witches, the wise ones, the medicine people, the psychics, the lovers of the enchanted world, the ones trying to be normal, those that are too sensitive, the beautiful healers and wisdom keepers…they will be not be silent any longer.

Coqui Ashui

May 1st.

The Spiritual Tea Garden (and letting go)

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The community came together and helped save our shop.  An interest free loan from a customer helped smooth out stress.  The beautiful shop in Elizabeth will remain nurtured and cared for as Shyanne’s.  I am trying to release the need to control and know every outcome.  Maybe we will make it until the lease is up, maybe for many years to come, I must release what I cannot see.  For now, it is a lovely testament to a community who came together and helped us remain open.

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I am not sure when it began but what started as divine inspiration turned into stalking the bottom line.  Ideas became web domains and joy became stress.  I am trying to quiet my mind and listen and not plan out every detail of my next chapter.  I am letting it fall together in pieces of timely thoughts and guiding purpose.  I am not rushing to choose a name.  I am not getting the website. I am not plotting every detail as I have in the past.  The idea of jumping back into a full blown business defeats me at present.  Farmer’s markets, shows, promotion, packaging…it all exhausts me to think of it.  I want to serve and to be more generous.  I want to extend my wisdom and my heart to those around me and that gets lost when I am trying to reach a financial goal.  I don’t want a business, I want a purpose.

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Three years ago sitting in the prairie grasses beneath ancient cottonwoods with five owls perched around me, the names of herbs popped in my head that I had not heard of and I jotted them down.  I researched them and was astonished to learn their spiritual uses and properties.  My love affair with herbs as spiritual medicine ignited.

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As I worked with Native American elders I learned the uses of cedar, sage, tobacco, sweetgrass, lobelia, and others to help purify and bless spaces and people.  I found that I innately knew what herbs healed what spiritually.

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I am a medical intuitive and I see physical illnesses like tumors and breaks but I also see spiritual wounds and heartbreak.  The herbs that are used to heal physical ailments also work on the same system of the body for spiritual health.  Heartbreak, rejection, trauma, dementia, stress can all be healed by herbs, as well as manifesting love, clarity, inspiration, grounding, or connection with the divine to increase joy and purpose in every day.  I am fascinated by the medicinal and soul empowering aspect of herbs.

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I am listening.  I am not moving quickly.  I have a dream of many gardens filled with herbs and flowers.  I grew dozens of varieties last year and this year I hope to double that.  I had a feeling that I should purchase some organic base teas to blend with my spirit teas.  Organic Assam, Yerba Mate, Rooibos, smoky Lapsang Souchong, along with the Jasmine I grow will act as carriers for my herbal blends.  There is sacredness in tea.

I had a dream last night of raised garden beds of herbs with fairy lights around them.  I hadn’t thought of that. I always put the herbs along fence lines or along the house.  To designate space for specific herbs is a beautiful idea.

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The universe is my marketing director and those that need me will find me.  I can give back and heal and be generous and trust.  I stay quiet and listen to the plant spirits.  There is nothing to do right now but learn and be grateful.  And maybe have a cup of tea.

The Dance of Medicine and Wisdom Keepers…writing my life story

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I finished my book.

Two years ago, exactly, I was sitting in my friends’ living room in San Diego.  I loved visiting Lisa and Steve.  Over glasses of wine we discussed future, the spirit world, wisdom, and a book I should write.

“You should write it on the beach!” Lisa suggested.  How lovely that would be.

“I could be on Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday!” I exclaimed.

The book came to me in pieces but then our financial stress made me put it away.  It came back in a novel form and I didn’t like it so I put it away.

In many books that I have read, spirits help put ideas into one’s head.  As soon as Lisa died, my book came to me in a torrent of rapid fire typing.  It was finished in two and a half weeks.  It is being edited now.

Living my own life again through writing about it was quite the emotional rollercoaster.  I was faced with being honest about people in my life.  Seeing the truth of matters.  Of reliving abusive situations, of struggle, of triumph, and love.  The lessons that I have learned along the way from my mentors and my friends and the earth have been staggering, and beautiful, and have led me to this place where I am now.  As a healer.

After I finished, I opened a cupboard and a memorial bracelet for my friend, Nancy fell out.  I haven’t seen it in a long time.  I can feel Kat’s presence.  I know that my friends beyond the veil helped me write this book and I hope it will help others, or at the very least, entertain.

This is the book I have been waiting to write.  I already have a book signing scheduled.  I hope to have many more. I am grateful.

The Making of a Medicine Woman coming soon….(still working on a subtitle!)  May 1st.

The Medicine Woman Memoirs

wild 23“I had the best day today,” I told my husband when he called me on his way home from work yesterday.

“Oh yea, what did you do?”

“I went to see Maryjane’s dance class and then had lunch with our girls.  And I wrote most of the day.”

I am writing my memoir.  I am my own worst critic.  Aren’t you a little young to be writing your memoirs?  What makes you so special that you should write a book about your life?  They might be voices from my past that just keep following me around.

I am writing my memoir.  I realize that most people have not experienced many of the things I have like working and learning from Native American elders and seeing miracles and healings and dozens of eagles circling my house.  Most people don’t look at others and see tumors and broken hearts and see where the break in the bone is.  I am a medical intuitive and am very psychic.

On the other hand, there are a fair amount of people like me that feel alone or do not understand their situations.  There are folks who were not nurtured as children, or who are stuck in abusive relationships, or who are highly sensitive to everything and those that are clairvoyant, and those young people that are desperately trying to be “normal” and society has labeled them mentally ill or ADD.  There are people that need to know they are important and special and need to know how to embrace, understand, and move forward with their great gifts.

There are a million reasons why I need to write my memoir.  And I am.  It is flowing out of my fingertips faster than I can write and I am fascinated by what is coming out.  I feel like a bystander transcribing a medicine woman’s journals.  We are going to talk about that?  Oh yea, I remember when that happened.  Oh, those were good times.  Yes, talk about that, that was scary…amazing…beautiful…devastating…real.

I want to blog about planting potatoes and spring crops and spring herbal remedies and changes but I cannot.  I am writing my memoir and it is fascinating and the Universe is quite insistent that it get done.  I cannot wait to share it with you.  Right now I need another cup of coffee and I will begin my new day’s work, writing.

Yule and the Talking Tree

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The Yule tree is always a conifer because evergreens survive the winter and they are a sign of hope and renewal.

I worked with a lovely Comanche elder for years and he told me the story about taking his children to gather cedar for ceremony.  As the children watched, he asked the tree if he could have part of her dress.  He said he needed a little of her cloak to help the people.

“Dad!  Did you see that?  The tree lowered its branch to you!” his daughter exclaimed.

I smiled and nodded knowingly.  I was taught to honor the plants and trees that I gather medicine from and on more occasions than I could possibly recall, the plants move and respond to voice and request.

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In the book, The Hidden Life of Trees; What They Feel, How They Communicate―Discoveries from a Secret World by Peter Wohlleben, the author forays into the scientific explanations and the mesmerizing experiences regarding trees communicating.  Of course there is science behind everything regarding plants growing better to music and singing or trees lowering their branches to offer medicine, but in my work we don’t need to hear the scientific explanations, we just know.  We see it.

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This is a beautiful time of year to go for a walk, go hiking in the mountains, or around a trail in your park.  There are less distractions and you can get to know an evergreen.  You will find them quite jovial.  When you say hello, it will move in a small area.  Sometimes the whole thing shakes without the help of wind or breeze.

Real magic is all around us, beyond cubicles and meetings, beyond television and bills.  It has always been there.  We are heading to Taos for the weekend.  And in the woods there and along the paths evergreens wish those that pass a Merry Yuletide.

How to Respectfully Wildcraft (and the enchantment of medicinal plants)

 

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It is wild crafting time.  We have a very short growing season here and a year’s worth of herbs to gather in a short time, sustainably, and respectfully.

I love wild crafting.  I am in my element when outdoors.  Even now, I am on my balcony surrounded by plants.  I am outside every moment I can and being around plants is even better.  I gather wherever I go, friends’ houses, great aunt’s house, sides of barely trodden roads.  (Never in polluted areas and never on private property without permission.)

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There is a special way to properly wild craft.  When I was younger I foolishly thought that you could just gather what was in the yard and put them in alcohol and make a medicine.  There is so much more to that including the plants choosing to help you, full moon cycles, various transports, and intuition.  Wild crafting requires patience, quiet, and listening.

One must approach the plant humbly.  Ask permission of the plant spirits.  If a twig or leaf or root or flower will not come off easily it is saying no.  You can also see parts of the plants moving.  That is where they are agreeing to be taken.  It is really quite enchanting and I am afraid that we have been lost in our modern world and have forgotten these things.  We do not take roots if we do not need to.  The Oregon Grape Root, dalonigei, has a large underground network of roots and will be alright if one harvests the roots.  Echinacea, sochani, is not so easy or prolific and the leaves and flowers contain as much of the medicine within them as the root.  Always leave tobacco to thank the plant spirits.

Only take a third.  A third each for nature, for regrowth, and for your medicine.  It should look as if the area has been undisturbed.  No one should notice that you have wild crafted there.  Having gratitude for the plants and the availability of the medicines is important and humbly taking only what you need is to be remembered.

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There are few true medicine keepers today and it is imperative for the average herbalist (and large herb companies) to understand the importance of maintaining a respectful and ceremonial way of gathering in order to get the plants’ help in making medicines as well as keeping the energy of the medicine.

These things really cannot be adequately explained in print but it should be noted so that we can take care of our natural medicines (including dandelions!) and Mother Earth, Etsia Eloheno.

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Today I was blessed to gather sumac, spruce, cedar, mullein, calendula, Echinacea, and Oregon grape root from Aunt Donna’s.  Yesterday I gathered maple and dandelion from Rodney and Pat’s.  Tomorrow I gather roses, yucca, purslane, and lady sage.  I do love this time of year.