What do you do when you experience insomnia? I go to a bookcase in my house and select a book.
Recently, I took “The Foxfire Book,” edited by Eliot Wigginton, from a shelf. After having wading through Steven Stoll’s “Ramp Hollow,” a thorough, academic assessment of the corporations which robbed West Virginian small landowners of the mineral rights to their land and reviewed by J.D. Vance as a volume with prose “light and readable,” I needed something interesting, memorable, and easy-to-read with the kinds of photographs that make me want to frame some and place them around my house.
Additionally, upon beginning to read, I quickly located sections of “The Foxfire Book” that reminded me of my years spent in Harlan County, Kentucky, as a child and later as an adult. One such section: As a child, I was privileged to witness several quilting bees in my maternal grandmother’s living room. I treasure the two quilts she hand-stitched for me- even though I was stupid enough to actually use them. And they now show the results of that wear.
The word “foxfire” refers to the spooky, phosphorescent light that glows by fungi from decaying timber or per the Collins English Dictionary, “life on the edge.” Take your pick or combine the two- which is my preference.
“Foxfire” teaches the reader how to make soap, build a log cabin, slaughter a hog (My father bought two pigs once, and I can visualize his friends coming on a crisp late November day to help him slaughter the pigs that had become hogs.
I can also see the hams floating down the Cumberland River where he had pitched them. I don’t know if it was that we had not eaten the pork because we kids considered it nasty or if he had failed to cure the hams properly) and do a long list of chores associated with putting food on the table.
The book also teaches the art of making moonshine, something I did as president of Southeast Kentucky Community College with the help of two recently freed convicts. I might not have needed the wisdom/help of these rascals if I had known at the time about Wigginton’s extensive description of everything from building a still (in a well-hidden place) to producing a fine brew. Let’s just say that my experience in making moonshine, although interesting, was a lot of back-breaking work.
And it began with my getting permission from the Commonwealth of Kentucky and ended with my dumping, to the dismay of my helpers, all that was not consumed at the Swappin’ Meetin’ that year behind Newman Hall, the campus administration building.
But on to other bits of copy in the volume. Know that I am indicating at this juncture that just because something is in print does not mean it’s true, so know that you should absolutely NOT try any of these remedies:
An example: for a baby with colic- “Feed the baby breast milk with one drop of kerosene… .”
Another example: for arthritis- “Drink a mixture of honey, vinegar, and moonshine.”
And then there is the treatment for burns: “Put hot coals on the burned place and pour water over them. The steam will draw the fire out.”
For cramps: “To cure cramps in the feet, turn your shoes upside down before going to bed.”
And if you happen to have an eye ailment: “Put a few drops of castor oil in eye. ” Or for a headache, “Rub camphor and white whiskey on head.”
There is a cure for earache, “Roast cabbage stalks and squeeze the juice into ear” or “Break apart a Betty bug at the neck, and squeeze one or two drops of blood in ear.”
The remedy for gall bladder trouble is “Take a spoonful if pure corn whiskey and Black Draught.”
With flu season coming on in a few months, know that the remedy for this tiresome illness, according to the text, is “Chew rabbit tobacco.”
And if you happen to be bitten by a black widow spider, the advice is to “drink liquor heavily from 3 P.m. to 7 P.M. You won’t get drunk, you’ll be healed.”
After reading page after page of remedies, often involving moonshine, whiskey, or wine, I finally arrived at page 240 in this fascinating volume of folklore where I located a single cure for insomnia: “Make a tea of boneset leaves, using one tablespoonful. You may use them fresh or dried.”
In conclusion, you may now run to your computer and click on your search engine as I did if you don’t know the meaning of “boneset,” or just use something your physician prescribed or that you picked up at your local drugstore.
Sweet dreams.
