Grandma’s Science

(herbal samples)

They called it Corona, but there was no king willing to defend the people, so it ended up being assimilated to a new kind of academic title – ’Laureate Earth Citizen’. People uncaringly polluted the air, left dirty trails on Ocean’s best carpets, and repeatedly poisoned the soil, hence the title was well deserved. A Laurel wreath on a Hardy-to-work-with way of thinking. As the governments around the world were behaving like Olly, Corona teamed up with Laurel. Unfortunately, we already knew that Laurel was the smartest. The Science people, who should have been the laureates, came out with one solution and one solution only: lockdowns – an obsession, in fact, a proof of poor education and wasted money. Finally, they put together a couple of vaccines that look more like a newly refurbished old hope, one that doesn’t cure but motherly helps with the symptoms. A flimsy excuse but surely another successful recipe for a ’good as new’ pharmaceutical ’bestseller’. Some science people really enjoyed the power of acting on the same stage as the politicians, but their performance was as pathetic.

Laurus nobilis (laurel bay or bay leaf) is not just ’the evergreen material’ used in the Ancient Roman Empire to crown the victorious but an aromatic ingredient used in cooking. No wonder Corona steamed everyone up a bit.

Me and my son, we both suffered from Coronavirus, but in different ways. The virus targeted the weakest organ inside the body, like a soldier on a crucial attack. A very sophisticated soldier, made, not born in poverty. We were confined to our house. My son’s ’laurel’ came with a cough, so I’ve called the pharmacy for a syrup to help with it. They were happy to deliver, but my order needed to be accepted and confirmed by a doctor first. On that day doctor’s opinion, the cough syrup wasn’t ready to face such a grumpy virus, therefore was refusing to cooperate, so my order was cancelled. Feeling herself a little bit let down, the pharmacist recommended trying my own, homemade cough syrup. Possibly a better-trained one. So, I’ve gone to the kitchen, opened the cupboards, and said ’hello’ to my grandma’s all-time champion science: herbs, potions, raw eggs, milk, butter, lemons, and honey. Yes, I’ve checked the expensive science people’s sites too, but what I found were just fresh recommendations of lockdowns and warnings for people who dared not use a mask.

Luckily, my grandma’s science kept us going. Even the chicken soup has been a success!

Like me, my son, and millions of others, most of the countries felt also lonely, left out even when still part of this wide but usually patient world. Some of those countries learned from the start how important it is to run your own factories, to produce locally any domestic, emergency kind of goods, to not depend on the mercy and the spare time of others. Some learned their lessons, but some still lie to their people and to themselves.

Unscrupulous people continued to add greedily to their fortune in a time of sorrow and grief, money earned in complete disregard for the sufferance and the losses of others. I saw their ugly faces on the news, happy to compete for the title of the wealthiest man in the world.

My grandma’s remedies were also a source of wisdom, so I wasn’t at all surprised when the camomile tea reminded me of a story that I’ve heard in my childhood. My grandma and her cronies were swearing that the story was absolutely true, but they also made me believe in someone called The Boogieman. Once upon a time, a young man wanted to be as powerful and as rich as God. He acknowledged he needed to know everything about… everything, so he started reading and studying, day and night. The young man was also eager to feel like God as soon as possible, but after a few years, his head started to grow, painfully. All that pile of new and old information was impelling for more space. He ended up in a  hospital. One day, his head couldn’t cope anymore and exploded. As we know, God is infinite, endless, so the poor fellow hasn’t even been near reaching his target. He has obviously been limited by his own skin. Some wise people would have called it ’borders’. I think God would have called it ’common sense’.