Panacea troubles

Home remedies and doses

by Sally Cragin

Illustration by Lennie Peterson

Hollis the Mountain Man comes from a long line of self-reliant, hardy, rugged individuals with a startling propensity for taking ill. His Aunt Winnie has custody of the Mountain Man Family Bible, an irreplaceable document listing the genealogy of the past 10 generations. For every Uncle Canterbury (died the day after his 101st birthday when he fell off the porch he was repairing), there is a handful of less-aged Mountain family members who barely staggered out of puberty. "Got the psthsis," read several entries, "Consumption and catarrh," reads a couple more, and only midway through the 20th century does one find reasons for Mountain Man mortality that a modern doctor might recognize or even be able to pronounce.

Hollis thinks about his family more than he'd like to admit, especially when he's feeling poorly. Generally, he makes it through the winter months with only a mild cold, but the cold/warm weather transition never fails to lay him low. He's convinced that days where the temperature swoops more than 40 degrees are unnaturally taxing, and he may be right. No sooner does he stagger through his equinoctal cold, than he's assaulted with hay fever. Actually, if it is only hay, he'd be a happy man -- certain mold, wild flowers, catkins, and other unknown pollens reduce him to tearful, red-nosed misery.

Delia Ellis Bell the Partial Yankee (there was a questionable great-great-grandmother) is healthier than she deserves to be but has a view of health care that borders on the pagan. Her remedy for everything is sleep and liquids. "Sleep is cheap," she explains one afternoon at the Mountain Lair. She's brought her sick friend a carton of sweet and sour soup from the Jade Palace. (Though Tritown restaurants all specialize in deep-frying, the Palace has survived by offering the unusual with the mundane. In Tritown, sweet and sour soup qualifies as exotica.)

"Chicken soup is okay for some," says Delia. "But you might as well give your system the biggest shock it can handle."

"Then tell me I won megabucks," Hollis croaks from his sickbed. "It's the damn caterpillar tea. I've been lying here for days with nothing happening." (Two weeks earlier, Hollis and Winnie drank several tumblers of his aunt Winnie's Minty Lemonade before discovering the bleached and stiff carcass of a caterpillar bobbing in the pitcher.)

Delia decants the carton into a coffee cup. "You're not missing much," she says. "The rain is driving everyone crazy, and the All Faiths prayer circle is reduced to pleading for clear skies for Independence Day. And if it is the caterpillar tea, I'd be sick too." She wraps a napkin around the cup and hands it to Hollis.

"Thissa bloody mary?" asks Hollis, looking at the sepia liquid with trepidation. "That's my best home remedy."

Delia shakes her head. "No, those generally aren't heated. What are you doing drinking bloody marys in the daytime, anyway? That's one of those questions on the `Are You An Alcoholic' quiz."

Hollis sips his drink. "I don't have a problem," he says. "I only answer yes to eight of those questions. Wow," he exclaims. "This is good -- lots of cayenne pepper."

Delia knows better than to respond to anything Hollis says to get a rise out of her, especially when he's ill. She makes sure the cats are fed and the litter box changed, and then continues on her way.

Back in Tritown, she has a number of errands to do, which are the kind of activities that could take no time or hours. (Townie rule: think twice before going downtown, especially if you haven't much time. Why? Running into folks you know can turn an errand into an excursion.) On her way to the Tritown Library to return the usual load of overdue books, she passes Hollis's great-aunt Winnie. "How're the squirrels, Winnie," she asks.

Winnie rubs her chin with a mottled hand. "Fat and sassy as ever," she says. "One of them got into the tool shed where I keep the bird seed and had a Fourth of July party a little early. Back's a little sore still from tidying up."

Delia nods, "Got a heating pad?"

Winnie shakes her head. "I haven't any use for those new gizmos," she declares. "Hot water bottle was good enough for my mother, and it's good enough for me. Speaking of family, where's that nephew. He was supposed to finish plugging the roof."

Delia feels a spasm of indignation for Hollis's sake. "Actually, he's home sick," she says.

Winnie narrows her eyes. "What's wrong with the boy?" she demands. "Not lollygagging, is he?"

Delia sighs. She has been raised to be polite to her elders, and Winnie's the elder of almost everybody, though you'd hardly know it since she strides around in clamdiggers and worn flannel shirts topped off with a straw hat slightly battered at the rim. "Not at all," she says. "Touch of the flu -- all the damp weather. I just brought him some soup," she adds virtuously.

Winnie nods. "The damp at the Mountain Lair would have killed Wilton, if he hadn't been taken sooner." (Great uncle Wilton had perished in an historical reenactment on the Bicentennial.)

"His remedy was a half-cup of tonic every morning," she continues.

"Coca cola?" asks Delia.

"No," says Winnie. "His own recipe. Said it settled the stomach. I'll give you the recipe if you like." At Delia's eager assent, Winnie adds, "drop by when you've paid the fine," and then strides down Main Street.

Uncle Wilton's Tonic

1/2 cup cider vinegar

1/2 cup honey

1 quart water.

Mix together and pour into a bottle you can stopper. Chill and shake well before serving. Hint: mix honey with a little water to make a solution before adding to mix.

Winnie's Recommendations for White Vinegar

"It's no good for salad, because it tastes too medicinal for me," says Aunt Winnie. "But it'll clean everything from silk undies -- not that I'd know anything about those! -- to a toilet bowl."

Vinegar Silk Detergent

Put a gallon cold water in a basin with 1/2 cup mild detergent like Ivory or Dr. Bronner's and 1/4 cup white vinegar. Immerse silks, but don't leave for long, and rinse thoroughly.

To use vinegar in the bathroom, pour 1/2 cup in the bowl, and let stand before scrubbing. Or, wrap rusty areas of enamel sinks with toilet tissue soaked in white vinegar to reduce stains. And a cup to the washing machine during the rinse cycle to get rid of detergent.

DELIA TAKES Winnie's recipe and returns to the Mountain Lair the next day with a jug of tonic festooned with a gingham ribbon and a hand-drawn label. "What's this?" asks Hollis suspiciously. He is feeling better and is considering repairing the broken window sash.

"Your Uncle Wilton's Tonic!" Delia exults. "Winnie gave me the recipe."

"Perfect," says Hollis. "It'll take the scuzz right off the windows."

Sally Cragin thinks laughter is the best remedy, and if that fails, tears. Thanks to Dr. Boursy for advice.

---

The Tales From Tritown archive

---