love of flowers

The other week at our Botanical Gardens #livestameet @amygdaliv brewed up some rosewater toner for our girls and hid them all over the premise. There are many recipes for this, and @floreashelby has a great one on her blog that inspired this GPM activity. Here’s the run down:

You will need:
Red Roses
Witch hazel
Vitamin e oil
Your favorite essential oil

Liv made 3 kinds: Lavender, Rosemary, and Peppermint

1. With love, tear up the rose petals with your hands

2. Combine the petals with boiling water in either a pot or mason jar

3. Steep until the petals have become limp and completely saturated in the new deep red liquid

4. Strain the petals and poor the water into a jar and fasten the top for maximum freshness

5. Let it cool

6. Mix ¾ rosewater and ¼ witch hazel in a new container

7. Add at 1-2 capsules worth of vitamin e oil and at 10 drops of your desired essential oil

Once you’re finished, you can either put it in a spray bottle to mist your face with or a travel tube to soak a cotton pad to wipe off any dirt/oil/debris after washing your face. It’s extremely refreshing way to wake yourself up whilst cleansing your skin. If you make your, don’t forget to tag us!!

anonymous asked:

Did you know that daisies mean loyal love, innocence, and purity? Also blue bells mean humility. -flower anon

WELL AS LONG AS WE’RE TALKING ABOUT PLANT SYMBOLISM the daisy, or “day’s eye,” “opening to the sun when it rises” as Chaucer said, was traditionally associated with childhood and innocence. Grazing animals tend to avoid daisies since the petals are bitter, which means they stand out quite beautifully in the countryside and in meadows. We’re all familiar with daisy chains, and these were made by countless generations of children. The connection to children is so strong that in Scotland, it’s called ‘bairnwort’ (bairn being an old term for a child). In Devon, closer to West Bay, there is a belief that wearing daisy chains will protect a child from being kidnapped by fairies. 

Daisies were sometimes used in traditional medicines, as ointments for treating burns and the like, but in Dorset, magic tended to colour their use – for treating boils, you should eat either seven or nine daisy blossoms that grow close enough together to be covered by one foot. This might sound difficult, but daisies do grow in clusters and there is an old saying that if you can place a foot on seven daisy plants, you know summer has come.

Daisies feature in Thomas Hardy’s poetry primarily in association with graves – Hardy was fascinated by the thought of the sleeping dead in churchyards living on in the vegetation that grows from their graves, thus the description of a little girl called Fanny Hurd who says “these flowers are I” and the description of his late wife’s grave blooming with daisies. “Now I wave/In daisy shapes above my grave.” This idea also finds expression in the popular phrase “pushing up daisies.”

AS FOR BLUEBELLS, what could be more quintessentially English than the sight of a wood teeming with nodding bluebells? Last year I went on lots of nature walks around the West Country and the sight of the bluebells took my breath away. I picked some that grew behind the cottage where Thomas Hardy was born and took them to Stinsford, where I placed them on his grave on his birthday – I thought he would appreciate that, since he loved his home so much. Bluebells weren’t particularly useful in folk medicine, but they do secrete a white slime from the bulbs which was used as a glue for bookbinding, and as laundry starch. A text from 1597 recommends using it to fletch arrows too, as the glue to stick the feathers to the shaft.

In folklore it is typically inauspicious – it’s unlucky to pick bluebells in Scotland, where they are called dead men’s bells or ‘the aul’ man’s bell.’ In Devon it was unlucky to bring bluebells into the house, especially if one kept poultry. I don’t think our Claire Ripley kept chickens, but still, bluebells in the wardrobe? Bad idea.

When I was in West Bay I was struck by the abundance and beauty of the hawthorns there, and given the hawthorn tree’s varied significance in folklore it’s my hope they utilised the tree during S3 filming. It blooms in May, which means it’s associated with fertility and life, but it also brought bad luck. The tree was a trysting place for fairies, and thus regarded with both reverence and suspicion, sometimes a bringer of life, sometimes a bringer of death. Interesting fact, Walter de la Mare wrote a poem called “The Hawthorn Hath a Deathly Smell,” and most agree that hawthorn flowers have an unsettling odour. Turns out, the flowers contain trimethylamine, one of the first products of putrefaction. There’s a good chance that much of the negative folklore about this tree comes from people recognising that smell of death, and feeling unsettled by it.