Casa Robino

What a night.I am going through a lot, overwhelmed equally by good and bad news. I'm afraid for my mental health that has had a history of being fragile. very few of my friends and acquaintances have seen me through my darkest ages, my depressions of 1999 and 2006.I'm not afraid to die, but I do not wish to die. And depression is a tricky state : it's like fighting an enemy that has no shape, no tangibility. You think you're dodging its bow, but it hits you behind the neck.  The first thing you know, you're tricked back into it, and it takes months to recover.I started dreaming of the potions I used to take to strengthen my soul. One of the things I like most about Europe is Rosemary. People use it to decorate their front door, their lives and its perfume is a guidance. Rosemary is a plant that helps people inhabit their cells, transcend their separation between body and soul. It has a relaxing yet stimulating effect, but it's one of the plants which is known to have a stronger effect on psychic plans. It brings life to each and every cell of the body, not as blood and oxygen, but as vitality.I guess a derivative of Rosemary would be a name I'd give a baby girl. Rosemarine - more than syllables... :) It is a plant that smells so powerfully that sailor can smell it up to 2 km away from the land on a windy day. It smells just like home,On hard days I'd take a branch of Rosemary and infuse it with Nettle,  this strengthening mala hierba. It's a first choice for a witch... remineralizing the blood,   I'd add some mint because it's refreshing, and so helps start the day anew, leaving a cleanse feeling to things.So I am letting go a garden I built in Brugge, during the day, in-between writing my book. There were dandelions to harvest, lavender to care for, snails to tame, basil to support, tomatoes to grow, mint to refresh Bernard (for Mojito's sake), and there was Rosemary.No longer is it my home. No longer is it my garden. But in Brugge I had a second garden, hidden behind Sint-Jans Oude Hospital : the Medieval Garden. There was Sage I would secretly pick and smell, and Wintergreen, and Absynth. I introduced all my guest to that sacred garden of mine, where healing flavours awaited me.Finally, by the canal were the leftover lovers of mankind : Knitbone, Wildrose, Chamomille, Yarrow and the king of all, Nettle.So I made myself a potion to drink right here right now and let go of that garden - embracing that which is offered to me by the universe. I feel a strong wind calling. I smell the Rosemary. It is refreshing like mind but hot and wild like pepper tastes. It is zingy like ginger. It is comforting just like honey, and reminding me that one day, There will be a garden where I can care for bees and harvest their heavenly creation.In the meanwhiile, I still have maple syrup, and I grieve from the land where no tree grows.