When to rely on home herbalism and when to go to the professionals

As a young newspaper reporter, I was on the scent of oil sharks in the Amazon rainforest of Ecuador. The savvy taxi driver I’d hired pulled in at a newish gas station hunkered amid giant ferns. My photographer and I piled out and made a beeline for the tiny shop for water and snacks.

I misjudged and didn’t step high enough to clear a metal grate set up to scrape the thick rain forest mud off of the boots of customers. Being financially broke and an utter Gringo, I was also wearing flimsy open-toed sandals. The grate sliced into the side of my foot in a deep, red gash.

The lady at the counter shrieked. The wound was bleeding profusely and I noted with mild alarm that it barely hurt at all, which I vaguely thought was supposed to indicate a serious cut.

I sat down on the floor of the gas-station shop and pressed on the wound in an attempt to slow the bleeding. The woman behind the counter ran to the shelves, tore open a box of instant coffee, pried my fingers away while prattling in rapid-fire Spanish and dumped the contents of the box on my foot.

Image by Arie Farnam

“It’s okay,” the soft-spoken Ecuadoran photographer who doubled as interpreter consoled me. “She says it will stop the bleeding.”

The taxi driver came in and the woman seemed to be giving him firm orders. He and the photographer nodded and replied in short bursts. The photographer made to lift me up over his shoulder but I struggled to my feet, demonstrating that I could still walk.

“He’ll take you to the hospital,” the photographer explained.

“But I...” I protested.

“You should get stitches,” he insisted.

So, I got in the car. I’d had a lot of minor injuries in a pretty active, very visually impaired life, but I had never had stitches. In the US in a family with not a lot of means, emergency room visits were reserved only for the gravest emergencies. But I figured I could probably afford it here or I’d have to.

We pulled up in front of a mud-spattered wall around a tiny, run-down compound painted in dark green. The taxi driver hopped out to go see what the clinic could offer and I gingerly opened my door and tested my good foot on the ground. Only then could I see that there were piles of used toilet paper, syringes, general trash and worse scattered on the ground and drifted against the wall of the clinic. The stench was palpable and my internal alarm bells clanged violently.

I’m an herbalist today. At the time, I was no more than a dabbler with a first-aid course under my belt. But I was pretty solid on germ theory. This did not look like a place I wanted to be with an open wound.

The taxi driver came back with an invitation to enter and wait, But I laid down the law. Both of them protested. I insisted, “Take me back to my hotel! I have a medical kit there.”

Finally, they reluctantly agreed and a half an hour later I was in my room, pouring copious amounts of disinfectant on the cut and bandaging it with the gauze and surgical tape that always come in such kits, even though you don’t really expect to use them.

“Wow!” I was startled by the photographers low whistle. “You’re tough. I don’t know a lot of… “ he paused for a long time, “women who could bandage such a wound.”

I wondered what he had not said. Probably some local equivalent of “Gringos.” It’s a deserved stereotype mostly, though off-the-track travelers tend to be a bit more handy with a first-aid kit than the average.

I wasn’t in fact that worried about the initial stemming of the blood or the bandaging. The wound wasn’t actually that deep, just profuse. And while some doctors might have stitched it, I was sure it would heal fine under normal circumstances. But of course, these weren’t normal circumstances, for me at least.

I was supposed to spend the next two weeks in rugged conditions in the Amazon rain forest. Keeping a foot wound free of infection in this context would definitely challenge my tiny medical skills. I had read about the virulence of the local microbes and it was concerning.

i did manage to avoid infection through regular application of disinfectant and herbs that time. And I stand by my decision, on that occasion, to opt for self-medicating over the professionals at hand. i’m sure there are dedicated and excellent doctors in some of the most remote places on earth and I could have been lucky, if I had gone into that clinic.

But the bottom line is that intuition told me to run, in no uncertain terms. And I stand by that. Sometimes you have to make that call.

A more recent experience I had during COVID-19 lockdown shows the need to make the opposite choice at other times.

It started with an odd twinge in my right elbow. I had been working really hard physically for weeks. It’s planting season and I put in a huge garden by myself. I’m also taking care of two high-needs kids, cooking for my family all day, cleaning and getting around on foot and by bike. So, a few aches and pains are to be expected… or so I thought.

But over three days the mild pain escalated to severe pain. And then stiffness set in. I just turned forty-four and I make cracks about feeling my age, but this was out of control. I needed my other hand to bend or straighten my elbow. And I am very right-handed.

I caught it early and even the first day that it hurt I put ointments on the elbow that should soak in and fight infection. I could tell the elbow was inflamed and whether it started as a minor injury or as an infection, it clearly was infected now, under the skin.

But it wasn’t swollen and I wasn’t feverish, so there was time. And this is COVID-19 national lockdown. I now live in a country with a wonderful universal health care system, but the virus has me back to my childhood avoidance of doctor’s visits for all but dire emergencies. I wanted to avoid a trip to places where sickness is present, if at all possible.

But my ointments didn’t work. (I tried comfrey, onion and ginger poultice as well as some cayenne to sooth the pain and relax the tissue through heat.) So, I brought out my secret weapon, the oregano essential oil that I used to beat a persistent MRSA infection a few years back. Now I know how to dose it properly and I didn’t even end up with blisters this time.

But it still had only a sho0rt-term effect. My arm hurt worse and worse, day by day.

My husband had some pharmaceuticals left over from a joint infection he had had in his leg I tried some of those but also to no effect. In fact, it definitely seemed through trial and error that the diluted oregano oil was the best thing I had. It at least improved things temporarily.

Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have gone to the professionals at that point. No swelling. No fever. Some minor progress with a certain herb... I would have put the arm in a protective sling and babied it for a week before even testing it out and it is very likely that it would have been fine.

But another thing about COVID-19 lockdown that a lot of people might not realize is how much hard physical labor it entails for mothers. I am working physically a lot harder than I normally do and not using my right arm is just not an option. When you’re the Mama and you’re 5,000 miles from the nearest devoted grandmother or other major support, you just have to be the one giving the care. Being an invalid—as nice as it sounded—wasn’t in the cards.

So, that time I chose to call my local GP. She’s a wonderful, practical woman with a pleasant respect for my choice to mostly avoid pharmaceuticals. She also doesn’t want to physically see any more patients than necessary during quarantine. I gave her a run-down of my symptoms and she proscribed medication over the phone to reduce the inflammation and combat joint infection.

Within two days, I could use my arm again. The pharmaceuticals didn’t actually get rid of the problem entirely, but they set the infection back enough that I could nurse it slowly back to health with careful use of essential oils. So, this isn’t a story of either the superiority of herbs or the triumph of pharmaceuticals. In this case, it’s a tale of how they are often used together.

What these two incidents illustrate to me is the line that divides the situations that can and should be handled by home herbalism and first aid from those where professional medical help is needed.

There are plenty of situations where modern medicine is necessary AND herbs can also assist. The best medical professionals know this and are glad for the support. But there is still a line we need to be aware of, particularly on the herbalist side of the equation.

When writing about herbs I always include that disclaimer about how I’m not a medical professional and you should always seek out professional advice. It just seems like a good legal and practical precaution. In the US, where I am a citizen after all, suing people for the fun of it, is kind of a national sport.

But also, I don’t want some naive person to read my blog stating that lemon balm fights strep throat and refuse to go to a doctor when they have a life-threatening illness. I want my herbalist experience and my writing to be helpful and for readers to understand that I don’t know everything and can’t possibly pass judgement on a particular case over the internet.

Medicine is—even for the professionals—still a very subjective and complex science. There are a few things doctors can say with absolute certainty, but not as many as you might think. And most of the rest of us must be even less certain.

Just about everything is a case by case decision. I have dealt with life threatening injuries and illness a few times without professional support, but there was no choice in those situations, either because health care was truly far beyond the assembled financial means or because it was geographically distant. There are times when you have to just do the best you can even in a serious situation But that does not mean you should choose to do without medical help when it is an option.

Professional health care should be considered a human right. And even though some serious problems can be handled by someone with good first-aid training and solid common sense—if you’re lucky—there are instances where even a very minor injury or illness needs professional appraisal. Are you diabetic? Or do you have other chronic conditions that create risk?

The bottom line is if you’re reading my posts or otherwise working with herbs and practicing home herbalism or first aid and you don’t have a medical degree, the most important knowledge you can have is an understanding of your limitations. Arguably that also applies even if you have a medical degree, but that’s another topic.

Be aware and question your assumptions. Don’t make herbalism and avoiding pharmaceuticals a religion. Yes, there are side effects to pharmaceuticals. There are with herbs too, if not usually as problematic. Yes, there is corruption and dishonesty in pharmaceutical manufacturing and marketing. There’s a ton of it in commercial herbalism as well, and even less regulation.

Growing and processing your own herbs gives you protection against some nasty stuff and it’s a worthy practice that I love. But one of the keys to a good practice is always having your eye on the limits and the phone numbers of some good medical professionals on hand.

Fir: The medicine of the holiday tree

When I was a child, living in the remote Blue Mountains of northeastern Oregon, knowledge of edible plants was highly prized among the kids I played with. Being able to pick wild food bestowed an aura of daring, super-adult independence upon a kid and it also meant you could comfortably leave home in the morning and not return until nightfall, which sometimes came in handy.

To be fair, I must say that our knowledge was pretty limited, but no one could fault our enthusiasm.

Image by Arie Farnam

One of my favorite edible plants was fir, not because it was particularly tasty, but because it was ubiquitous and edible in early spring when almost nothing else was in our area. In the early spring, fir trees grow a couple of inches of new needle-bearing twigs onto the ends of their branches.

This new growth is clearly visible as a vibrant lime green against the darker green of the rest of the evergreen. And unlike the hard, dusty, older needles, the new growth has a tangy, fresh taste.

What I didn’t know at the time was that the young needles are an excellent natural source of vitamin C in a cold climate where such sources are relatively rare. The new growth of fir also contains resins and aromatic compounds that are helpful in relieving respiratory congestion. Combined with the vitamin C, that makes the young needles a solid cold remedy.

While I happily ate these sprigs raw as a kid, many adults would rather drink them has a tea, which has a pleasant and somewhat earthier flavor than the raw needles, though I am not certain how much of the vitamin C and other volatile medicinal compounds will survive drying and long storage, so this may well remain mostly a seasonal remedy.

Still early spring is a particularly rough time for getting over winter colds, so it is worth remembering, nonetheless.

I also love fir trees in their holiday splendor, though the modern tree farms where millions of tiny trees are specifically bred and cut each year for holiday decoration leave me a bit sad. My aversion to plastic is still too high for me to use a fake tree.

I miss the winter holidays of my childhood, when the ritual of hunting our tree involved a snowy trek out into the woods with my father and brothers, where we examined crowded stands of small firs in search of a tree that was somewhat shapely but also contributing to problematic overcrowding. Then we returned singing to cups of hot cocoa and cookies with our prize on a sled.

Thinning new growth at the edges of the forest was a healthy and useful practice for the local ecosystem, but clearly it doesn’t actually represent a sustainable way for everyone to harvest a tree for the Winter Solstice or similar holidays. And it is worth remembering that we eat young plants bred and cut specifically for that purpose every day. Tree farms are not particularly evil.

The smell of fir indoors is calming and comforting to me, probably because my childhood holiday experiences were primarily positive. For my husband, whose childhood was marked by major family conflicts at the holidays, the associations are not so cozy, but he tries to play along.

Still the smell reminds me first and foremost of those tangy snacks on spring hikes in the woods and the other medicinal uses of fir. Fir trees can provide helpful medicine beyond the fresh shoots of early spring, and most of it is available all year round and without harming the tree.

Several Native American nations use poultices made from the sap of Douglas fir to disinfect and protect wounds with great effectiveness. The poultice has apparently also been used to heal dislocated, rheumatic or stiff joints. The runny sap that can be tapped from a fir tree will harden into a protective layer.

I have never personally used either of these methods in a first-aid situation, but only because I have not had to treat significant wounds in a forest where fir is available. If I did, this would be my first choice as the sap is wonderfully antiseptic and in a fresh state can be applied to a washed and cleaned wound.

The resin has also been chewed to help with coughs and sore throats. Some herbalists note that an infusion of green fir bark may be helpful with excessive menstruation or bleeding bowels. And some people soak the needles in cold water to produce a pleasant and mildly disinfectant mouthwash.

Because not everyone grew up in the woods, I’m going to add a warning here on identification of fir. Suburbanites may feel sure they can identify those spiky evergreens we use as holiday trees. “They are the ones with the short needles, whereas the long needles are pines… right?”

But beware! There are several species of evergreens with short, dark-green needles with the flat appearance of fir that are deadly poisonous.

I’m talking about yew and hemlock, both of which are among the most poisonous plants in temperate forests. Fir, yew and hemlock all share distinctly flat, single needles. They can be differentiated from spruce because their needles grow from the twig on opposite sides of the branch.  That’s what gives the branches of needles their flat appearance. 

So, how do you tell the difference? You need to be very sure here, after all, if you want to use these plants medicinally, or even bring them indoors for holiday decoration.

Hemlock needles attach to the central twig with a small stem.  Fir doesn’t have that stem, although some needles may have what look like little suction cups gripping the central twig. So, check for a stem on the needles, unless you are so experienced that you can differentiate these trees by smell.

Differentiating fir from yew can be even trickier. Fir and hemlock both have white lines on the underside of their needles. Yew does not. It’s needles are also only about half an inch long, much shorter than most fir. It is also good to be aware that yew has small red berries at some times of the year. Fir doesn’t ever have red berries.

Be sure about your identification and in general, I don’t advise just going out into the woods to harvest fir unless you spend a lot of time in the woods generally. Time and experience will make this identification much easier because there are other subtler differences in the trees, including smell and the texture of the needles, which is harder to describe in writing.

Be safe and enjoy the evergreen season!

Five herbs to have in an activist first aid kit

We’re in the middle of the Autumn Rebellion, the global actions of Extinction Rebellion focused on bringing acute awareness and immediate action to solving the human-caused climate crisis. It’s a time for practical things, even in blogging.

So, here is my quick guide to the most essential herbs—not just for first aid kits, but—specifically for activist first aid kits. (There are some unique issues to take into account.)

Image by Arie Farnam

There are plenty of herbs that are helpful in first aid, but in modern reality, first aid kits have to be portable and we often need them in cities, on roads or in places where a lot of fresh herbs aren’t available. Furthermore, activists need first aid kits that address the basic needs of humans in stressful and physically risky environments, as well as the means to safeguard long-term health and to counteract possible chemical attacks by security forces.

While I may have a larger supply of herbs at a tent or first-aid station at a major action, the question of which herbs to put into a light field kit is of crucial importance. Most of the time, for field kits we’re talking tincture and salve, but there is one exception to that rule.

Here are my five top herbs to keep in a first aid kit:

1. Lemon balm: For herpes (as a salve), strep throat, calming, emotional support and as a sleep aid in uncomfortable conditions (as a tincture). While not specifically a disinfectant herb lemon balm salve has been shown to be as effective as Acyclovir in fighting off cold sores and it is also “specifically active” against the streptococcal bacteria responsible for most bacterial throat infections.

2. Yarrow tincture: For cramps, sore muscles, inflammation, swelling, wound disinfection and to slow bleeding. Often referred to as nature’s Ibuprofen for its dramatic anti-inflammatory properties. It also combines well with plantain in a general healing salve for scrapes.

3. Mullein tincture, glycerate or syrup: For stomach problems and breathing troubles. Mullein helps an acute cough right away and heals damaged lungs. This is the most obvious difference for activist kits. Mullein is the best known herb for recovery from pepper spray or tear gas attacks.

4. Echinacea tincture: A good immune support and prevention at the first sign of sickness. I add echinacea to general wellness and boosting drafts for activists. If taken only at times of extraordinary stress, it’s immune support and energy enhancing effects are notable.

5. Ginger syrup, candied ginger and also thin slices of fresh root: Fights nausea and calms the stomach, warms the extremities and aids breathing. This is the one herb you can literally hand out like candy. On a autumn blockade with a cold mist coming down, distributing thin slices of fresh or candied ginger root can both warm and sooth activists much as alcohol might without the undesirable effects that make alcohol unwelcome at most actions.

There are plenty of other things that might be useful, but this is what I would take if limited to five herbs, partly because of the climate I live in and what grows here locally, also because of what I have found most helpful for the people around me.

St. John’s Wart and calendula would be good alternates for echinacea and yarrow but some people react badly to St. John’s wart and while it can help with some viral infections, it makes people oversensitive to sunlight. Calendula is helpful for most skin problems and fights bacterial and fungal infections, but it doesn’t have the uses yarrow has in slowing bleeding or soothing inflammation.

Thyme is a good alternative to mullein for breathing problems and it has its own digestive uses but in a pinch I’d choose mullein simply because I find that it’s affects are more short-term and short-term relief is what I want in a first aid kit.

Cautions:

• While lemon balm is very handy for preventing the flare up of a minor sore throat and usually can handle the very beginnings of a bacterial infection, strep throat is a serious condition that requires professional medical attention and has historically (before antibiotics) led to many deaths. Especially in stressful, cold and wet conditions out in the elements, be aware of the dangers of strep infection. Particularly in the case of throat and gland swelling, advise patients to get indoors and seek out medical attention immediately.

• Yarrow is related to ragweed and people with ragweed allergies may react poorly to it. Also, while yarrow is easier on the kidneys than Ibuprofen, it shouldn’t be used in high “pain-killer doses” (about 1 tsp of tincture every 3 hours for an adult) for more than a few days running.

• Ginger will calm some stomach problems but will not do much for stomach flu, food poisoning or other infection. If stomach pain or nausea increases and results in repeated vomiting, it is time to get off the front line and seek medical attention.

• Mullein tincture may help acute breathing problems caused by chemical agents used for “crowd control” but if it does not help and breathing problems continue, seek out professional medical help. It is also ineffective in the other major problem with these chemical weapons, which is eye and skin irritation. The key thing to remember is that these chemicals are acidic and that is the cause of the adverse reactions. Neutralize the acidity with a liquids with a base ph. Water mixed 1 to 1 with antacid solution is helpful. A wash of soy milk has also been known to prevent acid burns.

The balance: Herbs versus modern, western medicine in field first aid

I lay out the things once more - gauze, tape, band aids, iodine, scissors, a triangle scarf, something for burns, something to ease breathing, something to calm rattled nerves, something to ease pain, a healing salve...

How many times have I put together a first aid kit? I've lost track even of the types of kits I've put together.

It probably started when I was a kid and I viewed toothpaste, duct tape and a pocket knife as "first aid." The toothpaste was for tree resin removal and cooling of insect bites, not for teeth.

Then as a young adult I packed a first aid kit in my big trek pack for trips to Ecuador, Kazakhstan, Nepal or Kosovo.

Image via Pixabay

In those days, I got prescription antibiotics and pain killers for emergencies. I never used them, except once the antibiotics in some remote Mexican mountains.

But I did bandage a lot of cuts, disinfect many wounds, wash dirt out of scrapes and sooth a lot of distress in my time.

Some will sneer. A lot of things were beyond my skills and my kit. But the woman with infected cuts on her hands in rural Bangladesh, who had never seen a doctor, cried and hugged me when I cleaned and bandaged her wounds. Even if that were the only time, it would have been worth it.

I also doctored myself plenty. Once in the Amazon, I cut my foot on a steel grate and it bled so profusely that my local friends took me to the local hospital, which turned out to be a filthy, concrete shed, crowded with infectious disease. I opted for my own kit and bandaged it myself. I managed not to get that cut infected either, no small thing in the rain forest.

I've packed a kit for groups of kids and for family camping trips as well. This time, I'm packing it for another sort of purpose--climate crisis protests.

That mostly means that for the first time I include a large bottle of antacid. I'm told that diluted half and half with water it makes a decent anti-tear-gas eye wash. There are other things I wish I had, like an inhaler, a ventilator, instant ice packs and burn dressings. But I'll make do. Hopefully I won't need any of it.

While updating my research for this kit, I ran across the usual arguments of course. There are the staunch proponents of alternative and herbal medicine, who wouldn't have antibiotics even if they could get them. And there are the western medicine mafia, who don't care if lemon balm salve beats out Acyclovir in clinical trials because "imprecise dosage."

Never mind the fact that precise dosage isn't that important with lemon balm, given that the effective dose is relatively low and the harmful dose is unattainably high.

I don't fit neatly into either camp.

Antibiotics are not the work of the devil. Quite the opposite. They have saved countless lives from miserable, horrifying death, including my own most likely.

But the antibiotic era is still waning. Resistant bacteria are far too common now. Last year, I fought off a flesh-eating MRSA infection that didn't respond to antibiotics. And you bet I'm grateful for the oregano essential oil that finally kicked it.

Ideology ties our hands and causes harm in healing as in any other area.

How do you decide then? The main rule of thumb is to use what works. There are areas where modern, western medicine still does a better job than herbs and there are things where herbs are a better bet.

Western medicine:

• Surgery

• Antibiotics

• Massive bodily trauma

• Bleeding wounds

• Organ failure

• Bacterial infections

Herbs:

• Scrapes, bruises and burns

• Allergies

• Systemic and chronic disease

• Psychological distress

• Viral and fungal infections

• Lung and bronchial difficulties

Automatic rejection of either is nothing but stubborn ignorance that gets in the way of healing.

So, what goes into this year's first aid kit? Here's a list that may come in handy for others on the front lines of the struggle for a livable future.

Disinfectant - I prefer iodine. You can also use an herbal tincture (yarrow is good) if the alcohol content is high enough. But if you carry nothing else, this is probably the thing. I got the MRSA infection simply because I delayed disinfecting a cut for thirty minutes. And no, it wasn't because I had a low immune response. Had I not had a strong immune system I wouldn't have been able to get rid of it at all. Disinfect cuts and scrapes in the field. Just do it.

Bandages, gauze - lots of them. You will almost never need them, though protests are possibly one place you're more likely to. And when you need them you will really need them and in good supply. Use them to stop bleeding. Put them on, apply pressure, get more help.

Tape - to hold the gauze on.

Scissors - to cut the tape and bandages

Disposable gloves - Yes, this is the one area not to be environmentally friendly. Use them if there's blood. Change them each time. When we cut out all single use-plastics, this will be one of the few exceptions.

Sanitary pads - for their usual use as well as as backup bandages

Band-aids - No, not silly. Disinfect and then cover small cuts. Infection is not silly. And a cut hurts a lot less when covered and protected.

Water, Panthenol, raw honey, aloe vera or St. John's Wart salve for burns - Cool water is the single greatest burn remedy. With any burn, get it in water if at all possible as soon as possible. If that's impossible, burn dressings might help, but you aren't likely to have them unless you're a professional. In some parts of Europe, there is a foam available called Panthenol. It was developed during the Vietnam war to counteract Agent Orange. It is the second best thing to water. Other than that, raw honey, aloe vera gel and St. John's Wart salve (roughly in that order) are the next best things.

Plantain salve - Plantain infused olive oil, heated with bee's wax and some vitamin E, then cooled. Use after disinfection on small cuts, bruises and scrapes that you can't put a band aid on.

Antacid mixed with water to wash eyes and faces exposed to tear gas and pepper spray - Use a ratio of 1 to 1.

Clean rags or bandannas - to soak in water or antacid mixture for burns or chemical exposure

Mullein leaf, mallow or thyme tincture - for respiratory problems and to heal respiratory tract after chemical exposure

Lemon balm or valerian tincture or syrup (for children) - to calm nerves and panic attacks, to reduce trauma after a bad fright, to restore strength

Echinacea tincture - As an immune booster after injury or traumatic experience, which is likely to lower immune response

Garbage sacks - to isolate clothing and other materials exposed to tear gas or other chemicals

Ibuprofen - for sprains and other pain relief

Water - for re-hydration and psychological comfort

Wax paper squares - folded into sustainable emergency water cups as an environmentally friendly alternative to lots of plastic cups or bottles. They dry and can be reused. They also take up less space than traditional paper cups.

Waiting for the first herbs

When the fragile light first glides,

whispering across the land,

the cold sunlight of March,

Image by Arie Farnam

as sleet still stings like sand,

I walk in the bare woods,

before the first buds awake.

Tiny rosettes of nettle nestle

amid the leaves I rake.

In the garden little pokes

above the still cold dirt

but tiny chickweed leaves

to heal some small hurt.

Still the tops of most herbs

stand dry and winter browned,

waiting past the last April snow

safe beneath the ground.

Then coltsfoot and lungwort,

brave and hearty those two,

raise their faces to the sun

pale yellow and purple blue

Rosemary and lavender,

as your leaves slowly green,

beware the last blast of winter

that we have not yet seen.

I’m waiting for the leaves

to wave green flags of spring

I’m waiting for the flowers

and breath to rise and sing.

The world needs more poetry these days. I may not be able to do all the things I have wished to. But I heard that we now have a local chapter of Extinction Rebellion. My post is short because I’m off to check out their website and sign up to do my bit on the home front.