This is a framed photo hanging in the restaurant. I looked up the name Pizzicheria De Miccoli in Google and it is a real shop in Siena. Here is the information Google gives: Richly scented, de Miccoli has windows festooned with sausages, piled-up cheeses and porcini mushrooms by the sackful. Sounds wonderful! I would like to thank Jason for letting me use his photo for this blog post. Please visit his site to view this and several other wonderful photos by this gifted photographer.

To fully enjoy this article, I recommend listening to this track by Santo & Johnny while you read:
Sleepwalk

Eleven o'clock roles around and it is time to start thinking of lunch. Like most office employees, the need to exit the office and take in some outdoor air is compelling. The sounds of clicking keys, the drone of the air conditioner and the phone ringing are replaced by the healing sounds of birds singing and leaves rustling in the wind. The harsh fluorescent lighting is left behind for sunshine and blue skies.

Most days, I enjoy taking a walk to my favorite bench, closing my eyes and immersing myself in the natural sounds around me. I bring my Nook and for the next hour I enjoy peace and quiet. Other days, I take off with some friends for a bite to eat. Fast food restaurants were the norm until we discovered a charming pizzeria near the local mall.

The name is Street Legal Pizza and the reputation of the delectable slices of pie preceded the best part of eating at this restaurant. When you walk in, you are greeted by what I would consider Italian music standards. Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin or perhaps a bit of opera sets the mood almost instantly. The pizzas are being prepared fresh and as the dough is thrown into the air, the aroma of fresh cooked cheese and pepperoni entices the senses. I tend to order the two slices of pepperoni lunch special. These are huge slices with ample pepperoni and every bite is euphoria to the taste buds. To drink, I enjoy the Italian Ice Tea which is made of ginger ale and fresh mint leaves. This provides the perfect tonic to wash down the pizza.

The restaurant is small but cozy and the decor consists of all things Italian and vintage Americana. I love the vintage bike that sits proudly above the oven and the collection of football (soccer) jerseys representing the greatest local teams of Italy. The jukebox that is immediately to your right when you walk in still works. Recently we asked about this beautiful machine and we enjoyed the story of how this sat in the owner's house as he grew up. When adding a few quarters for tracks such as Sleepwalk by Santo & Johnny or some Johnny Cash, the normal music is turned off so we can enjoy a custom soundtrack while we eat.

I am proud to say we escape to Street Legal Pizza an average of three days a week. For sixty minutes out of our day, we are no longer tech support reps but visitors to a New York Italian ristorante. The attention to detail provided by the owners really does make Street Legal more than a place for a slice of pizza.

A small photo gallery of this wonderful restaurant:

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I picked up this postcard at the truckstop where we had breakfast. I would love to find this location one day. Beautiful isn't it?

I am not sure how many people read this blog. I know my friend from Australia checks in along with Jared from New Zealand and a friend from Oklahoma. Does anyone else check in to see if I have updated? If so, I would love to hear from you. To my regular audience, hi there and I hope all is well. Before I had the chance to publish this article, a good friend of mine Jared from Arizona is also reading. Nice one!

I last spoke of my trepidation when it came to raising my son. I do have a follow-up for that entry but that continuation will come later. This entry actually relates to the topic and I hope you all enjoy it.

On Sunday, the 13th of June I decided to take my son on a bit of a road trip. Because my wife has to work on Sundays, it is just he and I together. I am very conscious of how much work I am doing these days and I thought it would be great if not absolutely necessary to hit the road with some one on one time with my son. I had rather ambitious plans to travel to the Comanche Grasslands. MapQuest said it was only 4 ½ hours away and I thought I could make the round trip, no problem. We set out at 9:00, so thought we would get home around 6:00 or 7:00.

Rolling Farm Land on a Rainy Day (Taken with Olympus E-3 and 50-200 lens). Post processing via Lightroom.

Leaving Highway 86 and entering I-70 I was hoping I would find somewhere to eat before getting on 287 South and as luck would have it, there was a Flying J near the exit for 287. I love these truck stops. The food in the café is always great and they have unique gifts in the shop. I enjoyed some heavenly maple cured bacon while Drew was in heaven with strawberry and banana pancakes topped with some whipped cream. After, we looked around the shop and I found a couple toys to help occupy the time needed for the trip ahead.

Highway 287 led us into the beautiful flat country of Southern Colorado. Every mile that was clocked meant we were further away from the business of the cities and becoming immersed in the rural communities. We drove through several towns not stopping but finally near Springfield, I had a decision to make. It was near 3:00 and we were still an hour away from the Grasslands. In the end, I thought it best to head towards I-25 and saw on the map that Highway 160 just south of Springfield would take me there.

I have to say that this road is one of the most beautiful I have ever travelled. Despite not actually making it to the grasslands, the vistas afforded me on this road more than compensated. Shortly after entering Highway 160, I noticed a dirt road that led into some farmland. In the distance dark rain clouds were interweaving with the sunlight and with this soft light touching the wheat, I thought this would be my best photo opportunity of the day. This time Drew came with me and he went running through the wheat fields while I tried to capture the beauty around me with my camera. At the end of this entry will be some of the photos from this wonderful diversion.

Ever conscious of the time, we set out again and headed straight into the storm that I saw brewing in the distance. I do wish I had got out and captured what was before me. The clouds were amazing and I was all alone on this road. I could have got out and stood in the middle of the highway and got some amazing shots. Maybe another time.

Highway 160 was a long but wonderful drive and as I drove I realized that the time I had right then and there could not have been more perfect. The whole trip was replaying in my head and I could not help but smile. Swallows coming within inches of my truck gobbling up all the moths that were out, the rain and most importantly the time with my son all replayed in a moment of present and recent past.

Just outside of Trinidad where I stopped for gas and prepared to get on I-25 to take me home, my son began his “can I touch this” questions. I love it when he asks me what he can and cannot touch. It is his way of determining what is safe and what is not. Ladybugs, ants, bees and dinosaurs are usually his favorite things to ask about. This time, he asked if he could touch Godzillas. I could not help but laugh and simply answered, if he is a nice Godzilla, then yes.

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I was lucky (if you want to call it that) when it came to relationships in my younger years. I never let anyone get too close and all sexual encounters never ended in a surprise. Out of necessity (again if you want to call it that) I got married at age 27 and that was not the best idea I have ever had. Still, it did serve a purpose in that I was able to stay in a foreign country for a number years. Despite best efforts and intentions, the marriage did not last and thankfully was childless. As I found myself single again, I actually thought the universe was conspiring with me in my endeavor to not only stay single but also childless. Then, something happened.

I met my current wife through a chance encounter and the relationship took on a life of its own and just a few months into it, we were engaged and not long after that, I was a father. After nine months of doctor's appointments and wading through the entire range of human emotion, I was holding a healthy baby boy in my arms. It did not feel as foreign as I imagined in my youth. It actually felt nice, comforting and shall I say natural.

I remember staring at him during his first night of being a part of this big, scary world. I sang Beautiful Boy by John Lennon over and over and caressed his tiny hand. All swaddled up and tiny he represented everything that was good in this world. So many thoughts raced through my head as I sat staring at this perfect little being that I helped create. What will I teach him? What if I mess it up? What if he grows to resent me? There is so much he needs to know. Will he listen to me? I can't dictate his behavior, I can only guide him but will that be enough? He must respect others. He must love all life in this world. He must be polite and strong and courageous. How will I teach him to be all those things? Sigh. I just cried. Holding his hand, I just let tears roll down and I just closed my eyes and prayed.

As days turned to weeks and weeks to months and years, I feel I have been blessed. I now have a healthy four year old and though my confidence as a parent is growing, I still have many of the same questions I did when I was by his side on day one, stroking his hand and singing to him.

It seems as we "progress" through the generations, so many things change and may I say not necessarily for the better. When I was younger, I was sent outside to play and outside is where I would be all day. There was no fear of me being abducted or something happening to me. Each day was an adventure and each day I learned so much. I knew the best place to catch lady bugs, grasshoppers and several varieties of ants. I knew which streams had the best fishing holes and the best place to watch the sunrise. It seemed the whole world was my back yard during my days of growing up in rural Wyoming. Fields of grass, rivers, trees, animals, camping under the stars on a friend's trampoline all led up to one great childhood.

At this moment, I cannot foresee my son will have these same opportunities because it is getting increasingly difficult to settle down in a smaller community and still have enough money to pay the bills. So, what do I do? I realize that I have become the person I am today because of the way I grew up. Adventure was everywhere and with a decent imagination (and my imagination was great), there was always so much to do, see and experience.

I look at children today and the current trend of how to spend a day involves video games, television and computers. It is difficult to get kids to go outside and that is sad. Already my son is developing a fondness for certain television programs and if we were to let him, he could watch shows like Scooby Doo or the Noggin network all day. I am fearful of how I will compete with all the temptations brought along in our digital age. I then found a wonderful resource to get me back on track.

To be continued . . . . .

It was no surprise that the zoo was crowded considering how lovely and mild the weather was. I am not a big fan of crowds and a crowd at the zoo can try the patience of most anyone. My son was having a great time though and that was the most important thing for me. I found that as we approached each exhibit, parents (myself included) engaged their children in almost the exact same way. "Look at that! That's a (insert name of animal here)!" The children would the exclaim the name of the animal, stare for a while and then move on. Some parents (myself included) took the time to read the information on the plaque. Considering my son is four, he was not that interested but it was different for some of the older children I observed. One little girl who must have been eight became visibly upset when her mom explained the beautiful tiger that she found so captivating was near extinction. She started asking questions and her mom answered them the best she could but you could tell the girl wanted to know more. Perhaps when she goes back to school, she will check out a book on these magnificent beasts and this will mark the beginning of her own personal conservation efforts as an adult.

A zoo provides a convenient display of all our favorite animals in as realistic a habitat as possible. We stroll up to their enclosures, point, take a photo and experience the thrill of having the opportunity to be so close to animals that you would normally have to travel thousands of miles to see. The exotic nature of seeing a zebra, giraffe, lion, tiger, panda or monkey has entertained the masses for centuries. Thankfully most zoos are moving beyond the thrill of the spectacle and making a conscious effort to assist with the conservation efforts of various countries worldwide. It is disturbing that not all zoos follow Denver's example. I will never forget my visit to Regent's Park Zoo in London. Though it had its attributes, the image of a 5' aardvark constantly pacing in an 8' x 5' glass enclosure still haunts me.

For every person who visits a zoo wanting to gain knowledge and is empathetic to the plight of so many species of animals, there are always those who consider a zoo just another form of entertainment -- like a movie or video game. Banging on the glass of the aquariums, throwing rocks at the hippo to get it to move, throwing a fit or chastising the management when certain animals were not in plain view and my absolute favorite -- feeding the animals people food. There are of course exhibits where you can purchase food to feed certain animals and I believe this is an effort to appease the ignorant and uncaring nature of so many who find a thrill in animals eating whatever is thrown to them. We sat at one of the outdoor cafe's and enjoyed a couple hot dogs and as I looked around I noticed a small child throwing anything he could break apart toward the peacocks roaming around. Of course the sparrows were quick and gobbled up everything available but still. Most of the food we eat is not even good for us, why do we think that just because something will eat what we throw to them, that it benefits them? Quite plainly, it does not. Bread in particular can be very harmful to birds. Here is one resource that explains why.

Overall my trip to the zoo was a satisfying one. I was very pleased that there were children who were there not just to be entertained but also to learn. I was inspired by the empathy I witnessed and this gave me hope. We need these children to continue the efforts of so many caring individuals who give their life to saving various species of animals on this planet.

I am pleased I was able to capture the following images. Enjoy.

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My wife wanted to pick me up from work but the not so reliable MapQuest gave bad directions and she got terribly lost. I guided her to where I was and off we went to the department store. Unfortunately, I generally do not drive myself to work and I am very directionally challenged, so through my seemingly confident commands, I too managed to get us lost. We drove several miles out of our way but we did eventually arrive at the department store and we waited at merchandise pick up for our new electronics. When the kind and very helpful employee brought the box out from the back, we laughed. There was no way this thing was going to fit in our car. Considering all we went through to get to the store, we gave it a try anyway. The box actually almost fit. There was only an inch or so hanging out of the trunk. The store employee helped tie down the trunk and with trepidation, we left the store and we prayed we would make it home without the box flying out on the highway.

We started off okay until we reached the outskirts of downtown Denver. Traffic slowed due to a traffic accident and thankfully it was close to where we were so we were not deterred for long. As we drove past the wreckage of mangled vehicles I prayed there had been no injuries or deaths. We were able to travel at the normal highway speed until we noticed a yellow jeep stopped in our lane. We came to an abrupt halt and waited until it was safe to maneuver around him. As we were waiting, we noticed there was a tire missing from the back of the jeep. Both my wife and I wondered what happened to the tire. The jeep was not jacked up so it did not appear as if he was changing a flat. As we successfully changed lanes and drove past the jeep, we considered ourselves very fortunate we did not switch back to our original right lane. Not even a mile ahead of us was – you guessed it – a tire with an axle attached in the middle of the road. What an absolute miracle that jeep did not flip over and that the driver was okay.

Needless to say, once we arrived safely home, we counted all of our blessings.

Shopping at K-Mart

The next day we opted to continue our retail therapy at the ever modest K-Mart. I have not been inside one of these stores in years. In fact, I think the last time I was inside a K-Mart was when I worked for one at age 19. Once my wife and I stepped inside, so many memories came flooding back. As a kid, we shopped at K-Mart for everything. I can still envision those velvety shirts that made up my signature look in junior high and part of high school. Like the K-Mart of my childhood memories, this K-Mart also had the unmistakable aroma of popcorn. As I walked the aisles, I observed a few things. The layout of the store was very basic and simple. I tend to enjoy things that are understated which is why I refuse to step foot inside a certain other “Mart”. The general atmosphere of the store was pleasant. Despite the fact that this was the last Saturday before Christmas, the store was not overly crowded. The people I came in contact with were genuinely nice and polite. If I said good morning, I received a response. For whatever reason, the other ‘Mart’ tends to attract some of the most unpleasant people on this planet. I still cannot figure out why but on this day, I was so grateful to be in a store where I could just relax and get my shopping done in the midst of good, kind, and polite people.

My wife and I broke away with separate agendas and as I walked around, I watched people. I saw a mom debating one toy or another. Neither was very expensive but it was obvious she could only afford one. With a sigh, she put one back and went on with her shopping. An elderly lady was counting her change as she stood in the shoe aisle. Whether or not she could get the shoes she wanted depended on how much she ended up with. A couple of women were meticulously examining modest gifts in their basket. One would ask the other if the intended recipient would enjoy what was picked out. One said "I know it is not much but I do think he will like it." So it went as we walked around.

Yes, my wife and I had a budget but nothing as stringent as what I just described. After speaking to my wife this evening, she mentioned she saw one old man shopping who had very worn out shoes. He was buying for others when really, he needed to buy some shoes. She wanted desperately to approach him and offer to buy him some new shoes but did not want to insult the man or take away from his dignity. How would you go about approaching a total stranger and offering some brand new shoes without making him feel awkward or wounding his pride? After hearing this, I felt very guilty. We bought some rather nice things while at K-Mart and all I want to do now is take it all back and go out and buy as many pairs of shoes as I can and take them to a place where those in need can come and get them on their own terms.

This Christmas, we will unwrap some material things but our hearts will be with those who are clinging to the very basic necessities of life. This has been a tough time for so many and I would like to take this opportunity to wish all of you out there a very wonderful holiday season – no matter what that holiday is. For those who celebrate Christmas, I will leave you with a final thought from a friend of mine:

I'm sure your Christmas will be special just as it happens. Who of us can really say we *need* anything more than we already have? In this country, true "need" is rare indeed. The gift of time well spent is far more precious than any doodad or bauble.

She places the red shoe box on the table. Its lid has been squashed long ago, so it sits, flattened, on top of the box, like a pancake. The box itself has also seen better days and is more of a faded pink now. She takes a deep breath and raggedly lets it out as she opens the box that contains long forgotten memories of the past 25 years of her life.

As she peers inside, she sees the familiar photos, cards, letters, notes and other “important at the time” memories she once thought were worth keeping. Reaching in, she withdraws a small card that was once attached to a single red rose, wishing her a happy three month anniversary. She was 16 at the time. Three months had seemed like such an achievement!

Laying the card on the table she reaches into the box again, this time unearthing a bundle of tiny scraps of paper, kept together in a battered, blue envelope. They are notes kept from friends that had been passed to each other secretly in the classroom. Reading through them she is transported back to her first year at high school, complete with horrible (and wonderful) teachers, important exams and assignments, wonderful friends, and, of course, the ‘crush to end all crushes’ on the male lead in the school production. Chuckling to herself, she recalls seeing him not long ago in a bar. He was fat and bald. “Lucky escape”, she thinks to herself.

Stuck in the corner of the box is a thank you card from her best and oldest friend. She had turned up unannounced at her friend’s house after her friend had been stood up for a date. They had gone out for a girl’s night on the town.

Another flower card announcing a happy six month anniversary is next. They had finally parted ways two and a half years later.

Taking a break from her trip down memory lane, she wanders into the kitchen and pours herself a glass of wine. The house is quiet, with just the crackle of the fire breaking the silence. The red shoe box has been like a faithful teddy bear, a reassuring confidant and friend, always there for her. It has seen many wardrobes in many houses. Smiling to herself, she thinks how ironic it is to be sitting here now, having come full circle, back to the house it all started from.

Sitting back down, she picks up a love letter which is five pages long and handwritten, proclaiming all consuming, undying love. There are many of the same letters, all saying the same thing, from the same boy. They are quite sweet really.

She picks up an angry letter. A long term relationship is ending. This is a rare letter as most of the box is attached to good memories. She puts it back slowly, thoughtfully.

She sees some birthday cards. There is one from Grandma – oh how I miss you, she thinks - a farewell card from the staff at her first job, a ragged ANZAC Day poppy, an old Sunday school bookmark, letters from her American and Chinese pen pals. Pulling everything out, one by one, she reads through them all. She then returns them lovingly to the box, putting the squashed lid back in place.

Picking up the red shoe box, she walks over to the fire and throws the entire box into the roaring flames. It catches immediately, pieces of glowing orange paper swirling gloriously into the air and up the flue, gone forever.

She feels free, light and happy. From this point on look forward, not back, she thinks to herself. The red show box has served its purpose but is no longer needed. Time is moving forward and things that are important today won’t stay that way forever. After all, in two days from now, won’t tomorrow be yesterday?

The End

Halloween marks the start of the holiday season and as the months of October, November and December melt into each other, many of us crave an array of  comfort foods that evoke a memory, feeling or emotion from days past. Every single Halloween, my mom would always have Daffy Apples in the pantry. Because we were only allowed two or three for the entire month, these were very special treats. I would savor every bite and even went through the trouble of taking tiny nibbles until I got to the absolute edge of the core. I knew that once Halloween was over, the Daffy Apples would be gone for another year.

As I write this, I am currently living in Arizona. Because Daffy Apples are only sold in various Rocky Mountain stores, I have to settle for standard caramel apples with peanuts. While good, they lack the finer details that make the Daffy Apple a true taste sensation. If ever there was a treat that could excite the taste buds into a frenzy, Daffy Apples would certainly be it. The apples are slightly tart but not sour, the red topping sets off the taste of the apple perfectly and that crunchy candy coating adds the final movement in a symphony of unique taste and texture. I am happy to say that I am moving back to Denver in three short days. While setting up our new home, the obligatory trip to the supermarket is in order. I can visualize the produce aisle end cap of Daffy Apples now beckoning like a long lost friend. A couple packages will take pride in place in the top area of the shopping basket.

For those that don't live in the Rocky Mountain region and have yet to experience this one of a kind taste sensation, I have good news for you. You can order Daffy Apples online! December 18th is the last shipment date in 2009 but they will resume shipping again mid-January 2010! If you live in the Rocky Mountain region, don't delay, head to King Soopers, Safeway, City Market or Albertsons and pick up a package or two. Alternatively head over to the Daffy Apple website and do some shopping.  Enjoy!

During an interview he made the statement (and I am paraphrasing) that he needs to just take some time off and analyze how he is going to make it through the rest of this life and how he is going to improve. These words stirred something within me because I often find myself searching and trying to make sense of this whole journey we call life. How am I going to improve my attitude and how I interact with others? I can be judgmental, selfish and worse – apathetic and despondent. Once a person stops caring, what is the point? We simply fall into a world of merely existing and I would like to have more than that.

There was a recent poll on CNN.Com that asked the question: Is society in general becoming less civil? 90% of those that responded said yes. Perhaps everyone should take a moment and ask themselves: How am I going to improve? Could we be kinder? More generous? More forgiving? Less judgmental? Less selfish? Of course we can. It is easier said than done though isn’t it?

The first half of the article discusses a now forgotten tradition of creating boxed dinners in the effort to raise funds for her local school. As she described the event, I was right there in her small town and could smell the food and picture the box Sharon had beautifully decorated. There was one sentence that particularly stood out as I read: My mother and Granny Ninna always fried chicken, usually two old hens, and they added green beans and cornbread, a lot of other vegetables, and most of the time Ninna made a stack cake for dessert.

I could not help but notice the casual nature of this sentence. Her mother and one of her granny's found two old hens and prepared them as part of the complete meal to be auctioned off. There was no trip to the supermarket for a conveniently prepared whole chicken or pieces already cut up tightly sealed with plastic wrap. No, they went outside, found two hens and did what was necessary to prepare them for dinner. This of course included killing and plucking them. I am sure her mother, all of her relatives and most likely everyone in her community raised animals for the purpose of food and preparing them for eating was simply part of the routine. If I were to go into detail of the steps involved, I am sure I would receive a lot of hateful comments from those who think killing anything for food is cruel. Conversely, I might also receive comments of praise for reminding people that the beautifully, tempting packages of food began as a life somewhere.

The overall theme of today's modern society seems to revolve around how to do things quickly and with as little effort as possible. Why? Do I need to have a box on my counter prepare a meal for me in less than five minutes? I would rather it didn't. There is a certain satisfaction that comes with preparing a meal from scratch and that is why this article spoke to me to the point where I felt I had to write about it. I imagined the life Sharon enjoyed as a child and the life of her mother and her grandparents. The practical nature of growing and raising your own food for not only your own survival but as a way of helping the community has been lost today for the most part. I would like to thank Sharon for taking me back to a time when life was not about convenience but about living the best you could with what you had.

The Cloister and the Hearth Cover

When visiting Denver, I always make it a point to lose myself for a couple hours inside Capitol Hill Books. When you walk through the door, you are greeted by the unmistakable scent of old books. Anyone who has ever been in a used book store knows exactly what I mean. It is sort of musty yet inviting. As you venture inside, your eyes begin to seek out a treasure hidden among the vast selection of used books this uniqe store has to offer.

During my last visit, I scanned the shelves looking for vintage gardening books and nothing really called out to me. I then scanned other shelves and in a corner of one of the bottom shelves my eyes caught a glimpse of a small, vintage looking book. The book was The Cloister and the Hearth and this was my treasure for the day. The pages are yellowed and the sepia tone adds to its character. Ironically, I was planning to visit The Tattered Cover to purchase Pillars of the Earth and from the excerpt I read on the back of The Cloister and the Hearth, this was a similar sort of story.

I love to 'save' books. I read Pillars first but only after several months had passed since my trip. As I was scanning my bookshelf for my next read, I thought it time to dive into The Cloister and the Hearth and though I have not made it past the first chapter, I am captivated.

I have already  been introduced to one of the main characters -- Gerard. I won't go into details in this post but promise to when I share with you my thoughts of what seems to be a magnificent read.

To speak of this book relates directly to today's Daily Etymology. At the moment, Gerard is seeking vellum to create something beautiful in the way of prose and art and I had planned on using vellum as today's word. Though some great information is offered for this word, I turned the page and my eyes came upon verbena which is one of my favorite garden plants. Under the entry of verbena it indicated to see the word vervain. Once there, I stumbled upon yet another exciting reference to some classic 14th century literature.

Vervaine,

Entry: A plant of the genus verbena. Derivation: French and Latin. The Middle English version of the word is verveyne. Cited reference is from  John Gower's Confessio Amantis and once I set out to uncover the reference, I discovered much more than I intended.

Meaning "The Lover's Confession", Confessio Amantis, also known as Tales of the Seven Deadly Sins (according to Wikipedia) is a 33,000 line Middle English poem which uses the confession made by an ageing lover to the chaplain of Venus as a frame story for a collection of shorter narrative stories.

When searching gutenberg.org, I found no translated version so I spent several hours translating it myself. Google was there as a trusted friend as I uncovered several helpful sites that helped with this process. I chose a section that would demonstrate the relevance of the use of the word vervain. It seems in this section, a lamb is being sacrificed to the Gods and part of the preparation is some fieldwode and verveyne. I of course already knew what verveyne was but fieldwode intrigued me. I am a gardener and ancient names of the plants I love intrigue me. It wasn't until I had nearly finished translating this section of the poem that I came across a version that offered an idea of what fieldwode was:  Google Books thankfully has Tales of the Seven Deadly Sins by John Gower and Henry Morley and I was able to find a more updated version of the reference I was painstakingly trying to translate.  Though I had figured out most of it, I was most excited to get an idea of what fieldwode was. It turns out it is another type of herb known as gentian and the following is a reference from the Gentian Research Network website:

Gentians have been used by humans since ancient times as herbal remedies, and taste very bitter. In Africa gentians are used against malaria, in South America against snake bites, in Europe and Asia as digestives, and in Southeast Asia one species is harvested for its rot-resistant timber. Gentians are also included in perfumes, weight-loss products, skin care products, and homeopathic remedies. In the Alps of Europe, one gentian species is the symbolic flower together with the Edelweiss, and it is found on many souvenirs and art work. Gentians are also considered special in the Japanese and Pacific culture.

This helped confirm that yes, this is indeed what fieldwode was and the final thing that confirmed it was an entry on the Free Dictionary website:

fel·wort (flwûrt, -wôrt)
n.
An annual gentian (Gentianella amarella) having small, lilac to creamy white flowers with fringed corollas.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Middle English *feldwort, from Old English feldwyrt : feld, field; see field + wyrt, wort; see wort1.]

It was the citing of the Middle English version of the word which adds the best support that this is the plant the poem refers to.

I am now pleased to present the reference where the Middle English version of the word vervain is used. I will be revisiting this poem again in the future and look forward to reading it in its entirety. I think a comprehensive Middle English dictionary may be a mandatory accessory to this purchase.

4020 With gret travaile and with gret pyne,

With great labor and with great pain,

4021 Sche was pourveid of every piece,

She was provided every piece,

4022 And torneth homward into Grece.

And  turned homeward to Greece.

4023 Before the gates of Eson

Before the gates of Eson

4024 Hir char sche let awai to gon,

Her chariot she let away to gone,

4025 And tok out ferst that was therinne;

And took out first that was therein;

4026 For tho sche thoghte to beginner

For though she thought to begin

4027 Such thing as semeth impossible,

Such a thing as seemed impossible

4028 And made hirselven invisible,

And made herself invisible

4029 As sche that was with Air enclosed

As she that was with the Air enclosed

4030 And mihte of noman be disclosed

And might of no man be disclosed

4031 Sche tok up turves of the lond

She took up turfs of the land

4032 Withoute helpe of mannes hond,

Without help of man’s hand,

4033 Al heled with the grene gras,

 And covered with the green grass

4034 Of which an Alter mad ther was

 Of which an Alter made there was

4035 Unto Echates the goddesse

Unto Echates the goddess

4036 Of art magique and the maistresse,

Of art magic and the mistress,

4037 And eft an other to Juvente,

And again another to Juvente – (the goddess of youth)

4038  As sche which dede hir hole entente.

As she which did her whole intent.

4039 Tho tok sche fieldwode and verveyne,

Though took she fieldwode and verveyne

4040 Of herbes ben noght betre tueine,

 Of herbs there had been none, better two

4041 Of which anon withoute let

Of which one without hindrance

4042 These alters ben aboute set:

These alters been about set:

4043 Tuo sondri puttes faste by

 Two different pits fast by

4044 Sche made, and with that hastely

She made and with that hastily

4045 A wether which was blak sche slouh,

A (male) sheep which was black she slew,

4046 And out therof the blod sche drouh

 And out of it the blood she drew

4047 And dede into the pettes tuo;

And did into the pits two;

4048 Warm melk sche putte also therto

Warm milk she put also thereto

4049 With hony meynd: and in such wise

With honey mixed: and in such wise

4050 Sche gan to make hir sacrifice,

She began to make her sacrifice

4051 And cride and preide forth withal

 And cried and prayed forth withall

4052 To Pluto the god infernal,

To Pluto the god infernal,

4053 And to the queene Proserpine.

And to the queen Proserpine (Persephone)