So good to read another friend of burdock. Springing to mind: wrapping venison jerky in its huge fresh leaves as I take the deep red strips down from the tripod over the smoke of campfire. Sleeping under an ancient fallen oak in the woods near Stonehenge, spending an hour with my digging stick to get a good burdock root, scraping and cubing it then dropping it into the billy can with some jerky, dandelion roots, ribwort leaves and nettle leaves for possibly the best stew of my life. Walking home from days out foraging, wondering why my ankles are prickling, then seeing my socks covered in little burrs. Still want to go see the 'Burry Man' one day. If you don't know who that is then look him up, you are in for a treat.
I was reading this on my phone, had a series of hiccups and it vanished. Really vanished. I open my laptop, trying to calm the panic because I was so engrossed, and again, nothing. I almost emailed you, in a tone that would have sounded like emphatic urgency, to re-send it. I couldn't say ASAP, because that would be a misuse of a state of emergency. I realized I could find it here, and was calm again. I love this one. And, once again, I will "LOOK" for something through your eyes, and be elated and calm when it appears on a ride.
Good to know it can't disappear. It's weird writing a newsletter it almost seems to disappear when I send it like crumpling a love note into a ball and rolling it along the classroom floor. Not that I have ever done that.
Your post reminded me of my introduction to Burdock. As a kid in England, on rare occasions, my mom would buy a bottle of a 'fizzy drink' called, "Dandelion and Burdock." It was delicious. A little like root beer, a little like Cola, a bottle shared amongst 3 kids was a heavenly treat. Thanks for your story.
So good to read another friend of burdock. Springing to mind: wrapping venison jerky in its huge fresh leaves as I take the deep red strips down from the tripod over the smoke of campfire. Sleeping under an ancient fallen oak in the woods near Stonehenge, spending an hour with my digging stick to get a good burdock root, scraping and cubing it then dropping it into the billy can with some jerky, dandelion roots, ribwort leaves and nettle leaves for possibly the best stew of my life. Walking home from days out foraging, wondering why my ankles are prickling, then seeing my socks covered in little burrs. Still want to go see the 'Burry Man' one day. If you don't know who that is then look him up, you are in for a treat.
What a beautiful combinations of memories. Thank you. Like a map into the past, those leaves
I was reading this on my phone, had a series of hiccups and it vanished. Really vanished. I open my laptop, trying to calm the panic because I was so engrossed, and again, nothing. I almost emailed you, in a tone that would have sounded like emphatic urgency, to re-send it. I couldn't say ASAP, because that would be a misuse of a state of emergency. I realized I could find it here, and was calm again. I love this one. And, once again, I will "LOOK" for something through your eyes, and be elated and calm when it appears on a ride.
Good to know it can't disappear. It's weird writing a newsletter it almost seems to disappear when I send it like crumpling a love note into a ball and rolling it along the classroom floor. Not that I have ever done that.
Burdock. What a great read.
Love the Harley Davidson story and Janet Malcolm’s words & photographs.
Your post reminded me of my introduction to Burdock. As a kid in England, on rare occasions, my mom would buy a bottle of a 'fizzy drink' called, "Dandelion and Burdock." It was delicious. A little like root beer, a little like Cola, a bottle shared amongst 3 kids was a heavenly treat. Thanks for your story.
Seems that there are a few UK sellers of Dandelion and Burdock drink. I really want to try it. https://www.agbarr.co.uk/our-brands/barr-soft-drinks/d-n-b/ and this one https://www.fentimans.com/drinks/soft-drinks/dandelion-burdock
Good luck tracking it down. I'm curious about it as an adult wondering whether it was really as good as I remember as a child.