Dvoeverie-stitches

Master Post

Peasant girl in heather with sickle and basket. 1900 painting by Emil Zschimmer

Though this blog started as a place to showcase my devotional stitching to honor my ancestresses, over the last few years the babky (my Moravian grannies) have been pulling me in all sorts of directions. I’ve never really called myself a witch, though I think it is assumed by a lot of my readers because of the work I do, and I’ve gotten kind of lazy and use it as shorthand a lot (especially in tags) because it’s easy, but I tend to think of myself as a cunning woman and over the last couple of years a novice kořenářka (simplest definition would be root/herb woman, but so much more).

Antos Frolka (1877-1935)

My practice revolves around foraging and preserving wild plants, honoring the animals that I share the land with, honoring the calendar customs and folk Catholicism (that is often only a mask over older pagan customs) of my Moravian ancestresses, and YES—I still stitch! It all falls under the overarching umbrella of ancestor veneration.

Kroatische Stickerin, 1920, Othmar Růžička

Who were the Kořenářky?

Foraging on these Four Acres 2025

My Herbal — Mostly print sources on plants I forage. Includes medicinal, magical, and culinary info. You can also find recipes from my bioregional apothecary, these are from my particular region and are meant to inspire as well as document my own research. Note: I’m beginning to add pages from my kořenářka journal.

My observation of Moravian Calendar Customs from 2022 to the present

2025 Stitching Projects

Moravian Embroidery Patterns

A repeat of the above patterns, but I recently found this somewhat different version:

Červenec/July Devotional Calendar

Few plants can bring as much joy as a strawberry. The first red fruit plucked straight from the bed tastes of the sun, childhood and summer. And the best part is that even a complete beginner can grow their own strawberries. But few people know that its leaves also have healing powers. Our grandmothers used to collect strawberry leaves for tea for diarrhea, urinary tract infections or to purify the blood. In the Hořice region, strawberry was one of the St. John's herbs. People put it in the "crib" that they prepared for St. John the Baptist on the night of June 23rd to 24th. The strawberry is a great example of a plant that combines benefit and health. It is beautiful, tasty and also healing.

Folk superstitions show that strawberries do not grow only for people. They also belong to supernatural beings – the souls of deceased children, angels and some saints, especially the Virgin Mary. Ethnographer Sobotka mentions a similar superstition: “When children go into the forest to pick strawberries, they must sacrifice the first three they find on a tree stump to the Virgin Mary or to the little souls. If a strawberry falls, they are not allowed to pick it up, because it belongs to the Mother of God.” Another superstition comes from the Krkonoše Mountains: “In the Krkonoše Mountains, children, when going to pick strawberries, give the first three strawberries on a tree stump for the powerful spirit and king of the mountains – Krakonoš; because Krakonoše gladly accepts such an offering and is often richly rewarded for it.”

The strange thing is that no one can ever get enough of strawberries. Why this is so, explains the legend of the Virgin Mary: "Once upon a time, a child was carrying strawberries from the forest, and he met the Mother of God, who knew that the child had strawberries in a jug, but wanted to test whether the child was good, charitable and generous. And she asked: "What are you carrying, dear son, in a jug? If you have anything for refreshment, give it to the poor woman, tired from a long walk, so that her mouth does not go dry for good." But the little son rebelliously replied: "I am carrying nothing!" and went on, ignoring the Mother of God. The Virgin was saddened by these impudent words, she was saddened by the boy's stingy heart, and as a warning for all time, she exclaimed: "You, stingy people, will be able to pick strawberries wherever you please, but you will never and never be satisfied with the strawberries you have picked!" Having exclaimed this, she disappeared. Since then, no one has been able to get enough strawberries, even if they have eaten more than they need." (1888)

Medicinal effects and uses:

In official medicine, the leaves are used, but not from garden-grown strawberry varieties, but only from wild, forest strawberries! The infusion from the leaves can also be drunk as a substitute for black tea, and is also excellent mixed with raspberry and blackcurrant leaves. In addition to their delicious taste, they also have medicinal effects - they have a beneficial effect on the liver, digestion and kidneys, and generally purify the blood and the whole body. For regular (non-medicinal) drinking, it is advisable to ferment the leaves, which will give them a black color and taste much closer to real black tea. (source)

When growing strawberries, "suitable neighbors" are recommended: Onions, garlic, chives and leeks protect strawberries against mold; a few plants can be planted directly in the bed between the strawberries. Borage (also directly in the bed between strawberries) improves their growth and the taste of the fruits. They also don't mind spinach, radishes and beans. Unsuitable neighbors:

Original Czech language article:

And jarred dried herbs from the first.

My neck and shoulders are now killing me, but I have a huge sense of accomplishment.

Getting to work on garbling and putting up the St. John’s Eve harvest. Pictured: clustered mountain mint.

I love pigs and I associate them with abundance. We eat pork in a lot of our celebratory meals. But I especially associate their abundance with Midsummer and Midwinter. As my current lack of a kitchen made one of my usual celebratory meals impossible this year, I was especially excited to have my first ever viewing of feral pigs yesterday on our rescheduled Midsummer visit to the Ozarks. We only caught the hindquarters of the adults but saw a whole litter of babies!

We spotted them not too far (by rural reckoning) from my Uncle’s highland farm where he hunts them on his private land to protect their farm animals.

We were in the car and they moved too quick to get a photo, so here is a photo dump of my favorite pig and pork pictures and a public domain image of the babies.

Me and the Floyd W. Sharp Memorial bronze statue of a wild boar, known as "Il Porcellino," at the Little Rock Zoo many moons ago. This is a replica of a famous 17th-century bronze boar statue created by Pietro Tacca in Florence, Italy. You are supposed to rub the statue's snout for good luck, thus the polished nose. The original statue, in Mercato Nuovo in Florence, is also a popular tourist attraction known as "the little pig".

My purpose last night, in addition to foraging, was to visit and again thank the bloodroot for her gift. I offered her hátová voda (Saint Agatha water) which is used to protect against thunderstorms. Since the area is plagued by flash flooding after thunderstorms it seemed appropriate. This water is especially sacred as it is the last water I gathered from my beloved creek before we moved.

Red clover, carrion beetle, golden harvestman, wild hydrangea, haw creek, shrubby St. John’s wort, tall thimbleweed, naked-flowered tick-trefoil, and purple cone flower.

Yesterday evening we went back to the area up in the Ozarks where I gathered nettle and the bloodroot for my amulet bag on Walpurgisnacht—the area that I had intended to forage on St. John’s Eve. Alas, we had had a lot of rain in the week leading up to St. John’s Eve (the sun finally came out at the very end of St. John’s Day) and the area is known for its dangerous flash flooding so we changed plans. I probably would have had a successful St. John’s Eve there as I visited with 8 powerful plant allies last night: wood nettle, shrubby St. John’s wort, mullein, red clover, purple coneflower, wild comfrey, American plantain, and slender mountain mint.

Feverfew was among the flowers in the bouquets my uncle brought us from the farmers market while Dad was in the hospital. I don’t know if it would be safe to use in tea since I don’t know if it was sprayed in anything, but I have had it hanging with my Midsummer bundle.

Common Řimbaba was once an integral part of rural gardens. Our grandmothers used it mainly for headaches, lowering fever, suppressing cramps or menstrual pain. Over time, however, this herb fell into oblivion, but now slowly but surely returns to the gardens. And both thanks to its cute appearance, which resembles chamomile or daisies, and thanks to its healing effects.

“Girl, take the rimbaba” my grandma would always say when I was white as a wall and my head was pounding before the storm. I did not believe her. But it looks like an ordinary weed from the border. She snatched 3 tickets. “Chew up. It's bitter like life, but it will help. “And it helped. Since then, the rimbaba has a place of honor in our garden. Between peppermint and gingerbread.

Rimbaba was worn in a scarf against dizziness, was put in the children's crib against night rabies and was also used in the treatment of malice (cramps, sprains or epileptic seizures, which occurred especially in young children): "During traditional heating, a nine-sil (right), rimbaba, a bundle of cumin and poppy were laid on hot coal - but basically "blind" poppies, from which the seeds were already showing, not the full ones ("watchful"). As soon as the smoke began to rise, the baby duvet and clothes were removed and they thoroughly smoked in this smoke of scented herbs. Herbs were then collected and boiled in the water along with thyme, linden flower and chamomile. Such a healing bath was prepared to banish the mischief and soothe the cramps. “ (Horácko, 1893) In Bydžov region, mother had another recipe against a sinner. When the child was “caught” by the mischievous, she spread the flower and the leaves of the “bread loaf” in her fingers. “With a gentle mixture, she then painted the veins on the child's wrist and sleep. It was believed that the strong scent of the herb will drive away cramps.

Superstitions about the growth of a Řimbaba

- Rimbaba brought happiness to the house. According to popular superstition, Christmas Eve dinner will grow from leftovers. The girl was supposed to collect fish bones and other crumbs after dinner, decide them in the garden or bury them in the ground. Rimbaba was supposed to rise from them. But there was a catch: If the girl was not honest, the rimbaba never grew up. Thus, the herb also served as a test of virgin purity.

- In the Krkonoše after dinner on a generous day, they mix crumbs with the table, carry them to the ground and throw through a hole in the lathouse into the garden; then they say "bread spice" (rimbaba) will grow.

- Instead of the farmer takes shells of nuts, peels and kernels of apples or pears, he goes out to the garden on Christmas evening after dinner and throws the leftovers with the words: "I sow, I sow the kernels, a rhimbag will grow, a cow will heal." “ (1895, Bydzovsk. )

- Elsewhere they believed that rimbaba will grow from nut shells. On Christmas Eve, when the nuts broke, the shells were not allowed to be thrown away. They tied themselves in a canvas knot and stored in a mug. There they waited for St. Stephen until morning. Then the shells fell into the garden. And they allegedly grew a rimbaba for happiness. (Firemen )

Czech language article:

We went back to the old campground that we visited last week, but earlier in the evening so we had more time to explore. So odd seeing this place where we used to picnic back in college in such disrepair, but it was great for foraging. And so many places to park that I could actually use a basket (snicker). Headed back home with beautyberry leaves and twigs (to make a bug repellant balm), shiso, American plantain, and a sprig of St. John’s wort.