Podcast
Podcast Summary:
I drink. I tell a story…and I hope that most of it is true. This podcast blends tales (today about Seedlip), fiction, and real-world exploration. Here’s the rundown:
Epic Rippers: Stories that f*&k. Raw, adventure travel stories. These non-fiction audio journals offer life lessons and stirring thoughts.
Sips and Shorts: Stories and interviews about drinks from around the world that have shaped culture and society.
The Library: Dive into “The Coin Chronicles,” an exclusive fantasy audiobook series. Each episode reveals a chapter of this epic saga of Gods, humans, and the coin that rules them.
Episode 42 Notes: Planting Seeds
Agnes worked daily to make sure the farm and her family survived for another day. This was an age of hard times. This was a time of keeping your head down and doing the work. In persisting, she became part of a hard working culture and embodied the concept behind a modern day drink.
Transcript of Podcast:
*Note – This is the full episode and containers spoilers. You can always listen to the podcast above.
History of the Seedlip
Agnes woke before the sun rose and the rooster cock-a-doodle-dood. The crisp air, not yet touched by the warm morning sun, was making her want to stay in bed. The cold seeped into her body and tightened every muscle. She was already sore and this wasn’t helping. Throwing off the covers was always the hardest part and it took her another three minutes to do. She lay there, in a wool nightgown, knowing she had to get up for her family. She had to get up and start her day for her kids. For her husband Thomas. There was work to do and time did not care how tired or cold or sore she was. Time would continue ticking away despite her wish to pause it and slip out of the stream of life for a few minutes to catch a breather.
When the cold became unbearable, and the desire to move, finally stressed her out enough to do, she sat up, squirmed to the edge of the bed and stood, emitting a long, labored, sigh into the dry air. Her nightgown was over her head then and falling in a heap on the drafty floorboards. She slipped on her thick stockings, the thickest ones she had and then pulled on a heavy dress.
She went to the window next and squinted to see through the frost, dark pane of glass. A blast of cold air from the drafty window hit her face as she got close and goosebumps ran down her spine and made her shiver.
She turned back to her bed, which was already empty. Thomas wasn’t there. He was gone, like he always was at this time of day.
This was a farm and there were always things to do. Sleeping was a luxury not given to those that want to create life where only dead things once exists. The move from dead to living, from nothing to something, required a lot of energy. That was evident in all of their hard work.
Agnes lit a candle and used its soft glow to find her way to the kitchen. Once there she brought the fire embers in the hearth back to life and added more wood. She put a kettle over the fire filled with water then went to the pantry. She grabbed bread then went outside to grab cheese and butter. As far as Agnes was concerned, the only good part about winter was being able to store food outside in the shed so they’d keep longer.
Then she set the table, cut the bread and let the butter out to soften. The rest of the family would be joining her soon for breakfast. The sun was starting to rise now and their rooster finally greeted them with his morning wake up call. She heard the cows in the barn mooing. The pigs would be awake soon and hungry, so she put on a pair of heavy boots, pulled on a warm coat, and went outside to feed them, dumping dried husks and rotten vegetables into the pen.
Back inside, the table was full. “Morning.” She said, as she peeled off her coat and shook away the layer of cold. Next she took off her boots, which were covered in a thick layer of mud from the soft ground. Things were no longer frozen. Things were thawing. The family was already helping themselves to food. The water was boiling now too on the roaring fire and she ladled some into a mug, adding some coffee beans.
“Can we go outside and play today?”
Play. They hadn’t really played outside in a long time. The winter had been harsh. Very harsh. It was a cold winter. A hard winter.
Then it dawned on Agnes that today would be a good day to play. That also meant it would be a good day to plant. She had been so focused on surviving the winter that warmer weather snuck up on her unannounced, and, as she looked outside now at the early morning hours, she realized it was going to be a clear, beautiful day.
Ice was already melting, falling in pitter patters to the ground, and glittering as it caught the sunlight. Her eyes went back to the front door and her boots. Her boots that were covered in mud. Mud that had come from the soft ground.
Planting Seeds With the Seedlip
Agnes’ pulse quickened. Spring. It was here. It was time to plant. After the stalls were mucked and the cows milked she would pull out that old, familiar straw woven basket of hers, fill it with seeds, and start planting. That was the next step. Yes, that was it. The fields had already been tilled. It was possible to do that over the last few weeks and, as if reminding her of that work, she felt the ache between her shoulder blades from gripping the walking plow and fighting to keep it steady as their workhorse trudged along.
She had to start the planting now. They had a large farm with a lot of acreage and walking it all by foot would take a long time. There was so much to do. She drank her coffee absentmindedly as her mind raced.
Thomas had kept seed at the end of last season so they were all set to get started this spring. She loved him for his planning and made a point to tell him that now as she thought of it. He smiled the way he always smiled, with love in his eyes.
There were the usual challenges, of course, with planting. Like getting all the seed in the ground right after the last frost and before things got too hot and the ground dried out too much.
After getting the kids dressed and ushering them outside, Agnes went to the barn in search of her tools. She found the sacks of seed that Thomas bought. She also found her basket, the basket she made herself with straw. It wasn’t very deep, only a couple inches, and it had a large flat bottom.
Agnes dumped some seeds into it, pressed it to her hip for easy carrying, and went to the fields. She looked out at the dark, rich dirt. She could smell it. Smell the Earth itself and all the living organisms crawling around down there. Today, was a new day and the Earth smelled new.
So, she walked. She picked at the seeds, which were easy to grab in the shallow basket, and spread them across the soil. It took her thirty minutes to walk one row, casting seeds to the left. To the right. And in front of her.
At the end of the field she turned and looked back. Already the birds were gathering. They were circling above and watching her. They were dive bombing in interspersed, missile like attacks at the soil, hitting the dirt, pecking feverishly for seeds. Then scattering.
Agnes sighed. The never ending battle. Nature trying to undo her work, not by any malicious intention, but just because nature wants to survive. Life wants to survive. And sometimes the survival of some means the death of others.
Agnes looked in front of her. There were more seeds to plant. She walked. Casting seeds to the left. To the right. And in front of her. At the end of the row, she turned and started a new row. Casting seeds to the left. To the right. And in front of her.
The ground was uneven from her tilling and some of the soil had clumped up in large, earthy clods that would melt in the rain. But, now they were hazards and she found herself tripped up several times, even once spilling her seeds. This caused a chorus of chirps as the birds excitedly spread the message to one another.
“Look at this! Look at this!” They chirped. “She fell. She fell…and we’re going to eat well today because of her mistake.”
But, Agnes stood after she fell. Agnes went back to the barn and scooped out more of the seeds that Thomas had bought, putting them into her straw basket, and continuing on. Agnes kept going because Agnes knew that mistakes happen. Not every day goes your way. In fact, a lot of days don’t. The birds will come. The birds will feast. But, even their gluttony and desire for a free meal is no match for hard work. Hard work will persevere. It could be in a season or a decade. Hard work, will persevere.
So, Agnes put her head down and kept planting, making sure to be more careful with how she walked moving forward. Casting seeds to the left. To the right. And in front of her. She liked that her work made Thomas proud. She smiled at him. Her husband. Her love.
She planted seeds all day and only quit when she couldn’t see the ground anymore. Then, she hung up her basket in the barn, locked the doors, and went inside to make dinner.
The days repeated like this. She woke in the morning while the world was still dark and went about helping her family survive for another day. Spring was a notorious time for afternoon thunderstorms, and there were many days she worked with haste against the incoming storms. She saw them forming on the horizon, readying themselves like an assembling army, the clouds building and turning black, swirling violently, and preparing to crush her afternoon.
She raced again nature. She fought back against the birds, who were always looking for a free meal. And she got stronger and more sure footed every day, never falling again in the fields, as she planted.
Casting seeds to the left. To the right. And in front of her. She keeps her head down. She does her work. She moves through the acres and acres of farmland all on her own.
It had been a cold winter. A hard winter. The winds had cut across the dead cropland without anything to stop them and tore into their tiny house, threatening the lives of them and the kids. It was a harsh winter, and the thing about harsh winters is they always take a piece of your soul. In this instance, they took her love. They took her Thomas. They stole his soul and left her all alone to care for two kids and a large farm. And Agnes was doing all she could to survive.
But, that was in the past and she had little time to think about her loss, although she still talked to Thomas often, since she had no one else to talk to. Spring was here and that meant sunshine and green grass and flowers and honey bees.
Spring was a time to plant seeds and put in the work to nurture them until they took shape.
There is a season for everything and now is your season to grow. To plant your seeds like Agnes was planting her seeds. To work them into the ground.
This isn’t a time to harvest. You have nothing to harvest.
Now, is a time to grow. To plant your seeds of ideas and hard work and progress deep into the fertile soil of life. To keep your head down, despite the rainstorms and cawing birds trying to dive bomb your crop and destroy your hard work. Keep your head down. Plant your seeds now and care for them. Focus on nothing else. You’ll be surprised how big your harvest can get when you focus only on growing and leave the birds to themselves and the thunderstorms to keep raging.
Those things will always be there. But, they don’t know what you are capable of. They don’t know that they can’t stop you. Nothing can stop you.
So, it’s time for you, just like Agnes did, to pick up your straw basket and plant your seeds. To progress and move forward your own life and the world we live in.
Keep your head down. Walk your fields and keep planting. Keep drawing from your basket.
Your basket, like Agnes’ basket. A very famous basket that is steeped in focus and hard work and perseverance and winning, even against long odds. A basket called the Seedlip.
Seedlip
Which, is also the name of an herbal distilled, non-alcoholic drink called Seedlip. A drink that is a perfect drink when combined with planting and nurturing your own seeds. Many people say new year, new you. But, fuck that.
That’s not at all true. It’s time to be you. Time to unlock that beautiful being within in you that can be more, do more, and achieve more. And if you’ve been on a journey this dry January, I’m proud of you. Keep going. And let’s cheers to you keeping your fucking head down with some Seedlip.
Podcast
Podcast Summary:
“Anyway, I’ll Drink to That” is a Boozn Sam’s production, exploring the fun, quirky, and fascinating tales of drinks (Bloody Mary in this episode) that define culture, history and the world. Every drink has a story to tell, and I’m going to tell it…as true as I can. Hosted by Sam, from Boozn Sam’s. Saddle up with a good cocktail and give me a few minutes of your time for a mystery surrounding a drink that changed the world.
Episode 39 Notes: Affairs, Violence, and Family Love
A woman with daddy issues, earned a not so fitting nickname, Bloody Mary, in a battle between the do what they want wealthy and common citizens. The mostly true, disgusting, and horrible story of how the wealthy do what they want…until a woman comes along and says otherwise.
Transcript of Podcast:
*Note – This is the full episode and containers spoilers. You can always listen to the podcast above.
History of Hair of the Dog
Today Ralph was feeling protective and a bit crazy. That’s what drove him out of the house and to the man walking up the driveway of his house. The man froze. The man watched him. The man gave a sneering grin. He was testing Ralph’s resolve. Ralph had postured and knew he couldn’t back down now. He had to follow through, especially if this intruder wouldn’t get off his property.
But, Ralph didn’t want to hurt anyone. Ralph wanted to play nice. He barked out another warning to the man, which was ignored. So, he attacked. The man tried to fight back, but Ralph was lean, fast muscle and there was nothing the man could do. The man screamed in pain. The man turned. The man hobbled away. And Ralph had once more protected his property. Satisfied, he retreated back to his home.
This was a hard part of town and it didn’t get any better during the day either. During the day people were always trying to intrude. Most he yelled at turned and walked away without issue. Some slowed their paces and shot him mean looks. But, they too, eventually kept moving. You see, Ralph was big. Ralph was intimidating. Not many were stupid enough to mess with Ralph. But, he did find a fool now and again.
Like the fool today. Only, the problem often with fools is that they don’t know their own idiocy and they try really hard, and sometimes succeed, in bringing the rest of the world down with them. As this fool was doing today. And the world he was bringing down was Ralph’s world. Because shortly after he scared the fool off his property, the fool returned with some heavily armed people that were indeed not fools. These fools were well trained. And Ralph did what he always did. He yelled. He postured. But, these new, well trained people did not back down. Instead they put a rope around his neck.
They yanked that roped so hard and so tight that Ralph couldn’t breathe. Ralph thought that he was going to die. Ralph had no choice but to sit and submit to his attackers. So, as the one held the rope tight against his neck, forcing him into continued submission, the other, approached. Ralph growled deep in his throat and this earned him another hard yank and a further tightening of the rope. He whimpered and lay down. The other man was at his side now. The other man was doing something to him, picking at him. Then the man retreated.
Ralph felt the rope loosen. Ralph tensed, ready to attack once more, full of confusion and anger, and hurt. But, when the rope finally lifted there was no one left to attack. The attackers were too quick and they were already gone. And Ralph was left with a little less of himself, from what the attackers had taken, and there was nothing he could do about it.
History of the Bloody Mary
This was back in the late 1800’s, but centuries before this, there was a woman by the name of Mary, who was a woman scorned. And, having been scorned, she resorted to anger. You see, someone she once loved deeply loved another woman. And just as love can heal all problems it can also create all problems.
Not to mention that the heart wants what the heart wants. So, just because God said he couldn’t leave one woman to sleep with another that he now wanted more… who, in the hell, was the church to tell him he couldn’t abandon his wife and promote his side chick to main chick?
Even if the laws were firm. Even if the edicts from God and the church were firm. Even if they said he couldn’t leave because he was married. Or that to leave would be against the will of God. He would do what he wanted.
After all, he was a powerful man and he wasn’t going to let something like the largest, most powerful, church in the Western world stop him.
But, he was smart. He knew he couldn’t take on the church directly. And, in the words of that famous general Sun Tzu, well paraphrasing here…but when you are facing a larger force that will mean certain defeat if attacked head on, you attack from another direction that makes the numbers and size of the force, less important.
So, this man, Henry, didn’t go full frontal, he snuck in the back door. Henry knew something very important. Henry knew that a belief only had power because you believed it. That goes for everything in life. Our belief in a thing makes a thing true. That goes for the demons we believe and the dreams we carry too. If you want to change your reality, change your belief.
Yeh, Sam, it’s just that simple right? Rethink your thoughts? Change what you believe? Well, is it so crazy? People do it all the time. People do it in an instant. It’s the buildup to changing the belief that takes time. That’s where all the pain and all the confusion and all the growing happens. But, when you’re ready, when you’re comfortable, your mind changes in a second, and I guarantee you’ve done this many times before.
I also know that in the moment, when emotions are involved, it feels much more difficult to make a shift in your beliefs. Henry was a perfect example of how to put aside your emotions and change your beliefs.
So, as I was saying, Henry snuck in the back door of the catholic church and said, “If you aren’t going to let me divorce my wife and marry someone else because of these beliefs, I’ll just stop believing in you. I’ll declare the Pope to be without authority here in England. I’ll become the authority of a new religion. And if we, collectively as a country, no longer believe in your religion, then I can divorce my wife and marry this new hussy over here.
But, the church wasn’t unaware of the back door, and they, of course had many supporters still throughout England. So, an idealogical war occurred. On the one side you had King Henry VIII who was like I get turned on more by this woman than my own wife, so let’s make a new religion, and all of you wealthy, aristocrats should agree with me. Because then you too could divorce your wife if you want and trade her in for a younger model. So, all the wealthy in England agreed.
On the other side, you had the citizens. The people. Who were trained for years and years to practice and preach the ways of the Catholic Church. And they were confused. Because they couldn’t divorce their wives and they didn’t understand all the ivory tower bull shit that the wealthy were yammering on about regarding humanists and the superstitious practices of the Catholic Religion, as they continued to practice their own, slightly modified version of superstitious practices that NOW also allowed them to divorce their wives.
Change is hard for the common folk in a country under the rule of a monarchy. Because they are trained to go along to get along. When the rules of the game are changed abruptly, well, it makes going along difficult because now you’ve got these hard wired, trained behaviors, that need to be changed. Sometimes, like with abandoning the Catholic Church those behaviors don’t change so easily.
So this other side was the citizens, the brainwashed, the good little believers… and of course the ex-wife of King Henry VIII…AND his only surviving, not illegitimate princess and once heir to the throne, Mary. Which makes sense. They’d lost all their power in the annulment of the marriage.
So, you might have heard of this before, or maybe not. But, this whole thing today is wrapped up in some pretty, scholarly, fancy words and bows, as it was back then. But, the English Reformation of the 1500’s was really just because King Henry VIII wanted to fuck another woman and not feel bad about it. So, he convinced the country’s wealthy to side with him and spearheaded a new religious movement, that he put himself as the ultimate authority of. Because… he was the king after all, and the fuck if the king of one of the most powerful Western countries in the world bow to some black robe wearing, tight white collar having, knee bending folks from Italy.
This movement, this change, this revolt, was the rise of the Protestants in England. And the decline of Catholicism. Then, as happens with humans, King Henry VIII got old and died. He put his son from the new wife in charge of the country…. Because… you know, he also had a vested interest now in continuing this charade…I mean movement of the Church of England and the Protestant religion, since moving away from it would mean he’d likely be removed from power and his own mother disgraced as an illegitimate wife of King Henry VIII. In common terms, she’d be called a whore, like Henry had basically turned his first wife into.
To make matters even better, Edward, now King Edward didn’t even have hair on his balls yet because I don’t think they’d yet dropped at this point. He was 9 years old. He was barely potty trained. His voice still squeaked like a mouse. And he had no need to shave, because he couldn’t grow facial hair.
I’m sure this period, still with the continued fighting between Catholics and Protestants, was a very wise and valuable period of forward progress with a pre-pubescent child at the helm. Thankfully, as Karma has a way of doing, King Edward became terminally ill, tried to execute his step sister Mary and failed, then died.
When he died, the rich declared some distant seventeen times removed, long lost, cousin, who, coincidentally happened to be protestant, as the next heir on the throne. She’s very famous. Her name is Lady Jane Grey. Do you know her? Yeh, no one does. She was queen for a whole 9 days before Mary was like, I’m raising an army and taking this shit back. Time for us to chuck out the kiddie pool and start killing people.
Which she did. By locking up Lady Jane Grey when she took over the throne and then beheading her. That was the first in a long line of killings that earned her a very famous nickname. Because our Queen Mary was not a happy lady. Her mom had been tossed aside like some cheapo-floozy by her father and all of the wealthy, who were supposedly her friends.
So, Mary, again, aligned with the Catholic Church, went to work, righting the wrongs. Now, Queen Mary was a badass. She was the first woman, in England’s history to claim the throne, and that was also with resistance and other competitors. She’s a complex woman, like every woman I’ve ever known.
And throughout history she’s been called a fierce heroine and also a coward who gave up power to her husband. And most are mixed on how she handled all that pent up anger and her daddy issues. You see, her solution was to literally kill everyone she could.
She ruled England for about five years before cancer gave her a painful death. But, during that time she managed to carry on the loving, leader-like tradition of killing people who disagreed with her ideologically.
I’m telling ya… this woman was on a mission. Her father had made some laws that basically started what’s known as the Marian Persecutions. And in the ultimate way of the savvy and powerful woman, Mary was like,
Dear dead daddy,
I know you once made these laws to persecute people you accused of heresy, but now I’m going to turn those laws against the Protestants, you know… the religion you started so you could abandon your mom and I for another woman?
Signed,
You’re very angry first daughter
The Rise of Bloody Mary
So, during five years, Queen Mary burned over 280 people to death. At least another 30 died in prison. When she restored the Catholic Church in England, all protestants had the choice of exile (which many took), reform, or punishment. Many left the country. But, many were also burned.
Her ruthless behavior earned her a nickname that we still use all the time today. Especially, now, as football season is starting up again, and you sometimes need a reason to feel better about drinking early in the morning and not feeling like a drunk.
It’s actually an ironic nickname, because most of the people Queen Mary killed, she burned to ash, and the name she was given, well it doesn’t really reflect that.
I could understand,
Hot Head Mary
Firey Mary
Slow Burn Mary
But, Bloody Mary.
Burning at the stake is really a bloodless, although not painless, death.
Regardless, here we are. Two old stories, that gave rise to a drink day inspired by a long night of drinking.
The Bloody Mary.
Bloody Mary
Named after the bad ass woman who took the throne of England in 1553 as her own, and just tore apart the country because of her anger and daddy issues.
And the type of drink the bloody mary is,
A hair of the dog, sort of thing,
A throwback to the 1800’s when our poor doggy Ralph from the beginning of the story was just defending his home and biting any attackers. But, during that time it was thought that if were bit by a dog you needed to take some hair from that dog, mix it with a drink and consume it, as a way to ward off any potential diseases. That’s why Ralph was roped and had a piece of his hair cut off of him, as a way to protect the idiot that wandered on to his property and got bit.
Hair of the dog. A reference to the idea that to solve the problem you find yourself in, you need to consume more of that thing.
It’s why people drink Bloody Marys as a hair of the dog remedy when they’re hungover, thinking that more alcohol will stop them from feeling like shit.
So, a drink, referencing an act you do to protect against rabid dogs, and named after a queen who burned one person a week for five years.
Yum, sounds delicious. Make me a second bartender.
Anyway…I’ll drink to that.
