When is a ‘weed’ not a weed? When it’s an herb!

In my vast collection of herbal/gardening books that date back to the 1600s with Culpeper and Gerard, and continue with a historical early American compendium on the plantings from the time of the pilgrims and on to the present, I have gleaned incredible information regarding the benefits of plants that are today overlooked or relegated to the classification of “weeds.”

Recently, an article in a local business newspaper/sales handout carried a column which maligned violets as a weed and provided a lethal recipe for violent herbicide to kill it out and ensure a “perfect” lawn. To each his own: I can only worry for any pets that may lick the residue off their feet — but must take issue with the misnomer of “weed.”

Violas, which include a plethora of violets (white yellow, lavender and purple), pansies and Johnny Jump-Ups — are one of the oldest and most revered useful herbs, extolled in the earliest of the afore-mentioned books and beloved to this day for their many healing properties, fragrance, beauty in the garden and 100% edibility, are a gift to be appreciated if not revered.

Each spring I am blessed with enormous carpets of purple that simply take my breath away — the first sweet blooms often pushing through the snow. They are, indeed the first flower in my memory — for we had them at our Chilco home (1930-’36), where they were a part of our then lifestyle of living off the land.

Growing up in the 1930s, I accepted that “pigweed” (Lamb’s-quarter) was a delightful green vegetable, that purslane — so pretty with its red stems and dew-drop leaves curling around and across the garden — was great in soups and stews, and that dandelion greens were a salad standby.

My paternal grandma made tansy cakes in the early 1900s, and her dog slept on a bed comprised of an old Army blanket strewn with tansy heads and leaves (great flea-stoppers). Too, Grandma and Mother — and I in turn — swore by tansy growing among the peonies and interspersed among blackberries, raspberries and roses as a trap crop. Dear departed friend Lois Wythe, used it as a dye plant (one of its historic uses). Contrary to some opinion, tansy is not hard to control: At the end of growing season, I simply easily pull out superfluous plants by their loose roots, (leaving a few for next year).

Since time immemorial, gardeners have made use of the gifts of Nature — many of our native, established wildflowers, and heirloom species introduced by the first colonists and passed on through the pioneers have their own estimable value in our landscapes and lifestyles.

A partial list of plants grown in the first gardens sown by the Pilgrims includes: Asparagus, Beets, Burnet, Cabbage, Carrots, Chervil , Comfrey, Cucumbers, Dill, Fennel, Gillyflowers (Dianthus, Pinks, Sweet William), Ground Ivy (Ale hoof), Hollyhocks, Lavender, Leeks, Marigold , Mints, Parsnips, Parsley, Peas, Pennyroyal, Purslane, Roses (several kinds), Rosemary, Sage, Sorrel, Thyme, Tansy, Turnips, Violets, and various grains such as wheat, oats and rye. They learned of corn from the Indians.

It’s obvious that their gardens were a mixture of vegetables, herbs and flowers, all of which were of use to them either as edible, medicinal, or practical crops — such as dye plants. They obviously knew about trap crops, since today we benefit from their heritage. We know that Mint of all sorts planted with cabbage and/or tomatoes, and Catnip repels squash bugs;

Today, Tansy, Chamomile, Dandelion, Ox-eye Daisy, Purslane, Lamb’s Quarter and even Red clover — among other useful/friendly plants, are on the County’s list of out-of-favor plants — a list that continues to grow, while the poison-makers like Monsanto and Bayer laugh all the way to the bank.

Chamomile, listed as a non-native plant, was brought here by the first colonists. I consider that a fair length of time to gain acceptance — especially with the fact that it has for years been known as a tonic for headache, fever, earache and gastric distress. In the garden, it’s a great companion to cucumbers and beautiful in the patch among the vines.

When the Ox-eye daisy was given the “noxious” connotation, I had a fit. I’m so sick of being told what we’re allowed to grow and what we’re supposed to kill. I love my beautiful Ox-eyes. They charm me all summer long, make lovely bouquets with the Campanula glomerata that has gone wild here, and nod to me as I pass by. But being a basically law-abiding citizen — I conducted an experiment. When each plant was through blooming and only the dead flowers remained, I gathered the stems together in my gloved hand and pulled the plant completely out of the ground, roots and all. Maybe it’s my admittedly poor soil, or the lack of rain at the time, but it worked great. So I have done my lethal pulling, plus cutting off and leaving a only a few for next year.

Final note: When it comes to Knapweed and Hawkweed, I am not in the least hesitant to get rid of them. They are a bane to the countryside everywhere. Pulling is successful in some cases and ground conditions — and always wear gloves when pulling knapweed — it is truly “noxious” and actually caused cancer in the hand of a local man years ago, causing him to lose his thumb and forefinger.

I’ve had no trouble pulling the hawkweed; one must be sure to get the rosette at the base and all the roots — but if it doesn’t work for you, simply buy a gallon of white distilled vinegar and pour it directly onto the rosette and it should do the trick. (Do it after a rainy spell for best results).

Valle Novak writes the Country Chef and Weekend Gardener columns for the Daily Bee. She can be reached at bcdailybee@bonnercountydailybee.com. or by phone at 208-265-4688 between the hours of 8 a.m. to 7 p.m.