Widow's Tears Read Online Free PDF

couple of gray-green leaves. “Here,” I said contritely, catching up to her and holding out the leaves. “Put these in your sandals. And when you get where you’re going, stick them under your pillow.”
    Ruby pushed up her sunglasses and frowned down at the leaves. “Put them in my sandals? What in the world
for
?”
    â€œDon’t you remember what Kathleen said at the workshop? About mugwort, I mean. It was one of the plants she talked about.”
    The previous Saturday, Kathleen Gips had led a workshop for us on plant symbolism. Kathleen owns the Village Herb Shop on East Orange Street in Chagrin Falls, Ohio—and if you haven’t visited there, you really must. She is the leading American authority on florigraphy, the traditional vocabulary of herbs and flowers, and she speaks and lectures all over the country. She has done a couple of workshops here before, and it’s always standing room only for her program.
    â€œMugwort.” Ruby thought for a moment, then rolled her eyes. “Okay, China, I give up. Maybe I skipped out to help Cass with the sandwiches when Kathleen was talking about mugwort. What did she say?”
    â€œShe said it symbolizes safe travel,” I replied. “During the Middle Ages, no traveler would ever start off on a hike without mugwort in both sandals and a poultice of mugwort leaves wrapped around his legs. It protected him from wild animals, sunstroke, and goblins.”
    â€œI don’t know about wild animals, but where I’m going, goblins mightbe an issue.” Ruby took the leaves, pulled off her sandals, and inserted one leaf in each. She straightened, frowning. “What’s the deal with the pillow?”
    I raised my eyebrows. “I’m surprised at you, Ruby. With all your witchy research, I thought you’d know about that. It has to do with astral travel, out-of-body experiences, that sort of thing. Mugwort under your pillow is like mugwort in your sandals, except for the psyche instead of the physical body. It’s supposed to protect you while it enhances your receptivity. Something like turning up the volume on your dream receiver, with a surge protector in case of lightning strikes.”
    Chuckling, I held out the pot. “In fact, maybe you should just take the whole plant. If Claire’s ghosts are sending signals from the astral plane—”
    Ruby snatched the pot. “Good-bye,” she said firmly, and started for her car, a yellow Chevy Cobalt parked at the curb. The gangly mugwort nodded over her shoulder.
    â€œGood hunting!” I called, laughing as I waved. “Extinguish that ectoplasm!”
    Had I but known, I would not have laughed.
    Had I but known…

Chapter Two
    Oleander. Nerium oleander. Oleander is considered to be one of the most toxic of commonly grown garden plants, its cardiac glycosides making it dangerous for both humans and animals. Despite its toxicity, however, ancient Mediterranean and Asian medical texts describe a variety of medicinal uses. It served as a folk remedy for skin diseases, asthma, epilepsy, and malaria, and was employed as an abortifacient, a heart tonic, and a treatment to shrink tumors and hemorrhoids. In China, the same cardiac glycosides that render N. oleander toxic also made it an important traditional treatment for congestive heart failure. A non-FDA-approved extract of the plant is currently being used as an experimental cancer treatment, with reported success.
    Galveston, Texas, is known as the “Oleander City.” The first plants were brought from Jamaica by Joseph Osterman in 1841 as a gift to his wife. They flourished in the subtropical climate, the alkaline soil, and the salt spray of the Gulf of Mexico. The city is home to one of the most extensive collections of N. oleander to be found anywhere in the world
    In the language of flowers, oleander signifies warning: “Act with caution. Be careful. Beware.”
    China