Roughly two years ago I had a great plan. I would grow my own sage for smudging and maybe even give away a few sticks to friends.
It went so wrong.
FLASH FORWARD to now. With excitement bursting from every place in my being I approached my now full to the brim, garden bed of sage. Carefully I chopped off the messy overgrow bits and bound them into little bundles for burning. After patiently waiting a few days for the bundles to dry out I plucked the first bunch from the pot. I had grown this from seeds. It was a grand moment. As I lit the little bundle, I sniffed the air quizzically. A unpleasant smell filled the kitchen.
My little bundle of stink next to the real deal.
You can not just burn any old sage.
I was so disappointed as I rushed to extinguish the pungent stick of burning dreams. I am now using the crop to make sage tea. So it’s not so bad. I am boldly going forth, using all the information gained in the first round to try again. This time with white sage. Why I didn’t do that to start with I will never know.
Safe journey traveler.