January 2002 Newsletter

A very happy, healthy and successful New Year!

Five in the morning and, having been awakened earlier by Mungu the Ridgeback disturbing the roosting pheasants, which had taken off with whirring wings and a cackling cacophony, I am sitting writing belated Christmas cards and thinking about what to prattle about in this Newsletter. 

Birdie blearily opens an eye, thinks better of it, and promptly returns to psittacine slumber. Mungu, having shaken off the early morning damp, clomps roofwards to join a gently snoozing Jan. I stop briefly my scribbling to check the latest additions to the menagerie.

Although I had strewn peppermint everywhere in my fight against the rodent invader I had not thought to bedeck the greenhouse, home to Jan’s precious new season bulbs. Therefore imagine her consternation when she discovered them scattered all over the floor, their loamy covering crudely scarred with mini potholes.  Those wretched blackbirds, she fumed. I was not so sure: the modus operandi seemed more akin to that of my Muridaean foes.

The following evening, armed with torch and sprigs of mint, Mung and I kept vigil outside the greenhouse door as Jan scoured the gardening pages for bird scarers.

Mung’s flews began to tremble as two of the cutest long-tailed field mice, with their overly large ears and whiskers twitching in anticipation, scampered smartly up the side of Jan’s pot of freshly replanted bulbs.  Their frenzied foraging quickly revealed the succulent morsels. No amount of torchlight or flash photography would dissuade them from their feast. 

Totally captivated by their antics, Jan has allowed them (two at the moment!) to stay, and nightly raids my bird food to feed her voracious guests. What treachery!

I never knew that!
Six o’clock already and Justin joins me for a “mind-expanding”chat.  In truth I am not really up for it. The somewhat one-sided conversation careers wildly around the latest news (none), econometrics (whatever they are), ichneumon (mongoose not wasp, and more my subject), ozocerite (a waxlike fossil paraffin, used apparently for candles, etc.), Pokemon (which I am rapidly convinced requires a doctorate in mathematics), the new version of Joan of Arc (a movie that I am hardly likely to have seen, or ever will, but am assured is great), stereotaxis (some sort of surgery involving the accurate positioning of probes inside the brain, I gather), and finally Christmas cards. Good Lord, what is the boy on?!

I can’t understand why you send those things....Nothing to do with Christ’s birth....Sheer commercialism....A modern invention....Waste of money! Of course he does have a point but it is often the only contact that I make with old and distant friends during the year, and it can be also an unconscious charitable donation which is no bad thing. I like the custom and relish the annual exchange of news snippets, but how recent is this social nicety?

Though wood engravers produced prints with religious themes in the European Middle Ages, the first Christmas card, as the term is now understood, is believed to have been designed by John Callcott Horsley in England in 1843, created for his friend Sir Henry Cole. An edition of 1,000 cards was placed on sale in London.  It was lithographed on stiff cardboard in dark sepia and hand-coloured. The centre of the card shows a family party in progress, beneath which are the words “A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to You.”  No doubt the Penny post, which had come into force on 10th January 1840, assisted greatly the spread of the custom.

Creating spirit and style, or simply stuck for storage?
Of all the books that I am kindly sent to look at I am always somewhat bemused by those which evoke a bygone age, when houses had larders and cold slabs, cellars and attics, nurseries and laundry rooms and, I would think, domestic staff, and yet are obviously written for today’s living. Mind you I find television’s ‘Lifestyle’ programmes similarly confusing.


However, living in a house which has survived almost four centuries, we have several of  these endearing features.  The most excellent cold slab provides the ideal location for my terrapin tank, causing no discomfort for these cold-blooded members of the Emydidae. The laundry room is used as a laundry room only because our Antipodean visitors demand it as of right, forever washing their ‘cottons’every few hours.  Do they not detect that Britain is a temperate climate zone?

The former nursery, sensibly located far from sound’s reach and large enough to accommodate a modern creche, provides the ideal retreat for me and my ever-growing collection of books and other paraphernalia. No phone, no television, no sound whatsoever: the perfect spot for future retirement and for playing with my toys. Funny how things come full circle!

The cellar, had it not a small stream constantly running running through it, would make a marvellous nuclear bomb shelter. Instead it is crammed to the roof with discarded kitchen items. Why is it that we never throw anything away?

How many kilner jars do we really need?  Are we ever going to use our respective paternal and maternal grandmothers’ preserving pans? Entree dishes? I haven’t had an entree (traditionally served between the fish and meat courses) in years.  Porringers, sauce boats, fish kettles and bains-marie are stuffed in every crevice. Why? Some might say that they are now quite collectible, but really? A quick ‘shufti’ around the so-called antique shops, which sprout like mushrooms here, reveal that they are carrying even more stock than us.  However I suspect that much of theirs is simply on consignment whereas ours is a fixed liability.

With Charity Shops becoming increasingly discerning - is it Versace or Westwood? - the attic resembles a theatrical costumier’s boutique. What tat!  I cannot honestly believe that I once squeezed into flares and flamenco boots: I must have looked absolutely ridiculous.  Even my attempts to offload choice sartorial items at the local tip have been thwarted: Sorry Guv’, no call for this ‘60s Carnaby Street stuff these days! What am I to do?  Our son and heir is the ultimate minimalist, permitting only a futon and a banjo to invade his “space”.   

Nevertheless help may be at hand.  If you dream about ending your dependence on the supermarket and chemist, and if you like making things, and have wearied of the galloping consumerism and convenience lifestyle that threaten to engulf  you, and are looking for both a sense of fulfilment and a “spirit of place” (Heart & Home by Beverly Pagram), I am assured that you will require preserving pans, kilner jars, fish kettles, bains-marie and, even perhaps, entree dishes! What’s more, if some “Lifestyle” presenters are anything to judge by, I think that my ‘60s gear might soon be fashionable again!

Tingle, tingle, little toe.
As winter approaches, and the air through the open bedroom window at night becomes colder, my fingers and toes tingle and eventually go numb. Of course I could always close the window, but old habits die hard. I suspect that I might be suffering from Raynaud’s disease.
  
Named for the French physician, Maurice Raynaud (1834-1881), this is primarily a disease of young women who are under pressure, and is brought on by emotion, any exposure to cold, even eating cold foods, or shock.  Hardly my profile, but there you go.

I understand that it is a common vasospastic disorder, characterized by bilateral paroxysmal spasm of the digital arteries producing severe hand-finger pain, numbness, tingling, and pallor of fingers and toes, or both, which become red as circulation returns.  Repeated attacks may result in osteoporosis of the fingers and toes, atrophy of the nails, and occasionally gangrene. Good Lord!

I should prefer to think that I am just suffering from a little poor circulation in the extremities. However it is estimated that there are 10 million other sufferers in the UK.  What happens is that even the slightest drop in temperature causes a constriction of the blood vessels, reducing circulation to the affected areas. Raynaud’s disease isn’t usually dangerous, but it’s as well to have the symptoms diagnosed to make sure the cause is not due to an obstruction pressing on the arteries or a connective tissue disorder, for example. Also, certain drugs can cause the Raynaud’s symptoms.

Fortunately, however, this is one of the ailments which I believe that essential oils can really assist. Choose from these oils to make your own formula: nutmeg, clove, black pepper, geranium, rose maroc, palmarosa, lavender, fennel and rosemary.  A blend of black pepper, geranium and nutmeg seems to work well. Add 1 drop of the blend to a millilitre of vegetable oil and apply to toes and fingers. Some say massage it all over the body, except the face, but I have not tried this.  Although essential oils cannot cure the condition, they help to ease the tingling and numbness.

Fetid feet.
With colloidal silver now an established favourite on the Price List, I am always on the lookout for silver “snippets”.

A recent letter to What’s the Alternative? in The Sunday Times Style magazine asked for any natural remedies that might help athlete’s foot. This trying condition is caused by one of two fungi, trichophyton or epidermophyton, which both like to grow in the warm, moist areas between the toes.  A persistent infection is always a sign of imbalance in the body’s microflora and a weakened immune system.  Susan Clark’s suggestion?

To treat the infection, use colloidal silver, which disables the enzymes that many forms of bacteria, fungi and viruses need for their own metabolism and survival.

You might also like to try making up a foot powder by adding 10 drops of tea tree to a cup of green clay. You need to mix this really well, and an electric blender is perfect for the job: it usually has a small hole in the lid through which you can add the essential oil at intervals to ensure a thorough mix. Powder the feet everyday.

Poland polishes up.
The area of medicinal plants cultivated in Poland is less than 20,000 hectares, and yet the total amount of raw material obtained from this area is 17,000-22,000 tonnes.  Additionally 3,500-5,000 tonnes are obtained from wild collection.

The top ten herb species grown in Poland are milk thistle (Silybum marianum), German chamomile (Matricaria recutita), caraway (Carum carvi), coriander (Coriandrum sativum), sage (Salvia officinalis), arnica (Arnica chamisoni), peppermint (Mentha piperita), thyme (Thymus vulgaris), echinacea (Echinacea purpurea) and St. John’s wort (Hypericum perforatum).

Staggeringly the domestic market for plant-based drugs exceeds 3,000 different preparations and occupies almost 50% of the middle and eastern European market, which places Poland as one of the top ranking producers of medicinal plants and manufacturers of medicinal plant products in Europe.

Musing on milk thistle.
The liver, the principal organ of metabolism and excretion, is subject to a number of diseases which may be classed as liver cirrhosis (cell destruction and increase in fibrous tissue), acute or chronic hepatitis (inflammatory disease) and hepatitis (non-inflammatory condition). 

In their review on natural products having liver-protecting properties, Handa et al. [Fitoterapia, 1986, 57, 307] report that about 160 constituents of plants belonging to 52 families have been ascribed antihepatotoxic properties.  The active constituents cover a wide range of structurally unrelated compounds.  The same authors list 33 patent and proprietary multi-ingredient plant formulations which are available on the Indian market as antihepatotoxic preparations.  Probably the most widely used preparations in the West for this purpose are extracts of milk thistle (Silybum marianum (L.) Gaertn.).

Milk thistle seeds have been used continuously for 2,000 years for liver conditions, and were first mentioned by Pliny in the first century.  Historical references are particularly abundant in herbals of the Middle Ages, including the hepatoprotective activity [G. Hahn and A. Meyer, 1988, Deut. Apoth., 40(6-7), 2]. Use of the seed for treatment of liver disease was revitalized by the German physician Rademacher in the mid-19th century and, in modern practice, by H. Shulz in 1929 and G. Madaus in 1938.

Silymarin surveyed.
Few plant principles have been as extensively investigated in recent years as silymarin. A flavanolignan complex, silymarin, was first isolated from the seeds of milk thistle in 1968 [H. Wagner et al., 1968, Arzneim. Forsch., 18(6), 688].  Silymarin, which is present at 4-6% in the ripe seeds, consists primarily of three flavanolignans, silybin, silychristin, and silidianin.

Hepatoprotective activity of silymarin has been demonstrated in numerous experimental models of toxic liver damage, including carbon tetrachloride and galactosamine.  Silymarin stimulates RNA polymerase A, enhancing ribosome protein synthesis which results in activating the regenerative capacity of the liver through cell development.  It also interacts with hepatic cell membranes, blocking binding cites and hindering the uptake of toxins.  It has a free-radical scavenging activity 10-fold greater than Vitamin E.

Clinical studies have suggested that pre-treatment with silymarin inhibits alcohol- , industrial chemical-, and psychopharmaceutical-induced liver damage, accelerating normalization of impaired liver function.

It has been used successfully in toxic-metabolic liver damage, ranging from fatty liver through fatty liver hepatitis to actual hepatic cirrhosis, caused by toxic substances, drugs, or exposure to irradiation.

Even in large doses silymarin is devoid of toxic effects and in particular has no harmful action on the embryo.

Deadly dreams!
Most cultures of man, from earliest times, have had recourse to some form of narcotic, often hallucinogenic, drug.  These hallucinogens, often derived from plants, have frequently been used within a religious context.

In cultures that consider disease to be the result of spiritual forces, they constitute a remedy, at least in the case of “mental” disorders: by establishing contact with the spirit which “possesses” the patient, the shaman attempts to lure it out of the victim and direct it to an object or animal instead; this is close to exorcism....In other cultures, hallucinogenic drugs act as a mediator between humans and gods, to reveal the existence of a “world of the spirits and an inner world within living creatures” beyond daily perception and appearance [cf. the modern approach of using the “awakened dream”induced by hallucinogens for psychic exploration (oneiroanalysis, artificial psychosis)].

Some fungi when taken orally produce hallucinations; these include toadstools of the genus Amanita. A number of Amanita species however, besides promoting hallucinogenic effects, are extremely toxic.  The appearance of the serious symptoms is considerably delayed after ingestion, by which time effective treatment becomes difficult. 

Milk thistle yields the antidote.
Deathcap fungus (Amanita phalloides) contains the highly toxic compounds phalloidin and a-amanitin.  Whether by accident or design, several ingest these “magic mushrooms”with inevitable results.

A multicentre trial involving 220 cases of Amanita poisoning treated in German, French, Swiss and Austrian hospitals was carried out from 1979 to 1982, using silybin in supportive treatment.  Silybin administered in i.v. infusion was shown to have protective and curative effect on liver damage resulting from phalloidin and a-amanitin [Monograph Cardui Mariae Fructus, Bundesanzeiger, no.50 (March 13th, 1986)].  The antihepatotoxic effect was found to depend on the time interval in which poisoning and therapy took place as well as the degree of liver damage. However the use of silybin as an adjunct to current methods has lowered mortality rates below any levels that have previously been achieved [K. Hruby et al., 1983, Wien. Klin. Wochenschr., 95(7), 225].

Bartram’s Encyclopedia of Herbal Medicine, apart from commending milk thistle as one of the best liver remedies, suggests that it can also assist PMT, candida and increased milk flow in nursing mothers. No wonder that it is one of Poland’s major medicinal crops!

Diet defeats disease?
Baby boomers - people born in the decade after the second world war - battling to counter the ravages of the years are creating a surge in demand for functional foods that stave off the illnesses of increasing age, according to a report by the consumer research company Datamonitor.

Living the adage “you are what you eat” - apparently the title of a cult 1960s compilation album (I can’t remember it!) - baby-boomers are using so-called nutraceuticals to help ward off ailments such as heart disease and diabetes.

For example Benecol spreads help to reduce cholestrol levels, and “probiotic” Yakult, a fermented milk drink helps to maintain a favourable balance of bacteria in the digestive system.  Fine, but why can’t they think of more appetizing names?  Still, with 204 launches of nutraceutical type products in the world’s biggest markets in the 18 months to October this year, they are probably running out of tempting titles!

A new role for IT managers?
According to New Scientist magazine if you’re struggling with computer fatigue, a spot of aromatherapy might lift your spirits.  So Arvel of Kyoto, Japan, has produced a ceramic aromatherapy pot that you plug into your PC’s USB port.  As the pot warms, it releases vapours from one of six scented aromatherapy oils, such as lavender. So instead of network breakdowns, IT managers in open plan offices are now going to have to deal with fragrance compatibility issues!

Homoeopathy isn’t hokum, or is it?
For years many have questioned whether there is a scientific basis for thinking homoeopathic medicines really work.  Conventional wisdom suggests that when you dissolve a substance in water and then add more water the dissolved molecules simply spread further and further apart.  A chance discovery, however, has revealed that some do the opposite: they clump together, first as clusters of molecules, then as bigger aggregates of those clusters.  Far from drifting apart from their neighbours, they get closer together. Could this explain how homoeopathy works?

Homoeopaths repeatedly dilute medications, believing that the higher the dilution, the more potent the remedy becomes.  Some dilute to “infinity” until no molecules of the remedy remain. They believe that the water holds a memory, or “imprint”of the active ingredient which is more potent than the ingredient itself.  But others use less dilute solutions - often diluting a remedy six-fold.

While investigating fullerenes [any of several forms of carbon in which atoms are joined in a hollow structure], researchers at the Kwangju Institute of Science and Technology in Korea found that the molecules kept forming untidy aggregates in solution. Dilution typically made the molecules cluster into aggregates 5 to 10 times as big as those of the original solutions.  The growth wasn’t linear, and it depended on the concentration of the original.  “The more dilute it starts, the larger the aggregates”, says chemist Kurt Geckeler.  Also, it only worked in polar solvents like water, in which one end of the molecule has a pronounced positive charge while the other end is negative.

“It doesn’t prove homoeopathy, but it’s congruent with what we think and is very encouraging,” says Peter Fisher, director of medical research at the Royal London Homoeopathic Hospital. “The whole idea of high-dilution homoeopathy hangs on the idea that water has properties which are not understood,” he says.  “The fact that the new effect happens with a variety of substances [cyclodextrin, sodium guanosine monophosphate, DNA
and sodium chloride] suggests it’s the solvent that’s responsible. It’s in line with what many homoeopaths say, that you can only make homoeopathic medicines in polar solvents.”

If some dissolved molecules are clumping in the volume, then the remainder of the volume contains fewer dissolved molecules.  Therefore how can homoeopaths ensure that only the parts of the mixture with clumped molecules end up in their remedies, ask Justin O’Brien of University College London and Janine Spencer of London Guildhall University?

If diluting a remedy increases the size of the particles to the point when they become biologically active, this should be observable.  And if water holds a memory or “imprint”of active ingredients - something that has never been observed - how can we be sure that the water used to make a homoeopathic remedy does not contain the imprint of an active ingredient that is harmful? 

Abdul Lafene wonders if this effect could also cause pollutants to aggregate.  This might mean that water which has been judged safe to drink, because the level of pollutant is below a certain safety standard, is actually harmful.

All of which makes me wonder what happens in hydrosols.

Meanwhile......
My sincere thanks to New Scientist [www.newscientist.com] and Bill Morden for making me think about it.


charles@essentiallyoils.com
 

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