A Personal Field Trip to Four Elements Organic Herbals Apothecary

Somewhere there’s a certified organic family farm, surrounded by more than 9,000 acres of protected land, far from agricultural drift, with mineral-rich soil sitting on one of the most ancient outcrops of quartzite in North America. 

Four Elements organic farm in Wisconsin

In the pristine Baraboo Bluffs, designated as one of the Last Great Places by the Nature Conservancy, is the 130 acres where Four Elements Organic Herbals grows and handpicks herbs and flowers for its line of organic handmade soaps, balms, creams, oils, deodorants and hydrosols/toners.

Shirlie & I hiking at
Aldo Leopold Foundation trails

Four of us from Chicago were camping for a few days at the local Devil’s Lake State Park in Baraboo, Wisconsin. Before we ventured on one of our hikes up the park’s bluffs, my friend Shirlie pulled out a pump bottle of natural insect repellant from her knapsack. “Want to try it?” she asked. It was Four Elements Lavender Catnip Insect Repellant. She said she had purchased it at a shop in Evanston, a suburb of Chicago.

I was pleasantly surprised by my friend’s offering, as I had been using Four Elements products  I had immediately fallen in love with her soaps, in addition to a special roll-on facial oil called Golden Crown Botanical Elixir “designed for wise women with mature skin," for years. I first met Four Elements farmer and owner Jane Stevens at the Baraboo Farmer’s Market during a previous trip to the area.

Golden Crown
Elixir

Golden Crown Botanical Elixir is made from a list of luscious naturals: sage, calendula, gotu kola and ginseng infused almond oil, neroli, rose geranium, rose and clary sage essential oils, rose hip seed oil, vitamin E and something called “pretty face flower essence.” Smells so good! It keeps my skin glowing and I am totally unable to live without it. Thus, I have ordered it online ever since.

Evidently, Four Elements has increased their distribution beyond the local Farmer’s Market and online sales, as Shirlie could attest. Four Elements products are now available in retail locations in 36 states.

As I held and used the insect repellant that Shirlie just handed me, I asked her, “Do you have any idea where they actually make the Four Elements products?” She did not. “In the little town of North Freedom, just west of here!” From the Four Elements website, I had learned that they ran an apothecary of their products in North Freedom, eight miles west of Baraboo, the town closest to Devil’s Lake.

Coincidentally, with a Four Elements brochure tucked into my camping supplies, I had actually planned ahead to suggest a field trip over to the apothecary sometime during our stay in order to introduce Shirlie to their great products. Little did I know she was already familiar with them!

Four Elements Apothecary
in North Freedom, Wisconsin

No need to talk her into making the side trip to Four Elements Apothecary.  One afternoon, Shirlie and I and our significant others drove up to the Aldo Leopold Foundation Legacy Center and visited the buildings and trails on this bucolic, environmental site. On our way back, we made a loop into North Freedom (population 706) and pulled up to the unassuming storefront of the Four Elements Herbals Apothecary. 

Inside, we entered a modest shop area where the skin care and wellness products and testers were lined up on wooden shelves.  We were greeted by Molly, who explained how all the products are processed and packaged right on premises in a large area behind the shop.  And how everything that went into the products is grown and handpicked at the farm, located about six miles from the shop. How often does this this local farm-to-product process take place in America? Unfortunately, too seldom! The Four Elements farm itself, founded in 1987 and certified organic since 1990, is open to the public only on a special Open Farm Day held in late spring each year, or by appointment only.  This year marks their 30^th anniversary.

My cache from Four Elements Apothecary

After testing products on our skin, smelling their wonderfully natural aromas, and chatting with Molly about the benefits of each of the items we were interested in, both Shirlie and I gathered a cache of healthy selections to bring home with us. 

Hiking can sometimes leave me a little banged up after hitting stray tree branches or unseen jutting rocks, so I was eager to try the Four Elements Black and Blue Balm. In addition, my husband Carlos entered the apothecary with sore wrists and Shirlie with sore knees. After a couple of sprays of Four Elements Arnica Capsicum Botanical Liniment to the affected areas, the pain of both parties immediately vanished. Sold!

One of my family members is plagued by painful varicose veins, so I bought him a gift of Four Elements Very Close Vein Cream, which contains horse chestnut hull, gotu kola, St. John’s wort and other botanicals to help relieve vein pain, smoothly delivered in a shea butter and botanical oil base.

I was a little sad to see that my favorite and delightfully fragrant Four Elements Hunter’s Oakmoss and Pine Soap was being discontinued, but was able to pick up the last several bars half-off in the clearance bin.  A few other items rounded out my purchases including a Triple Lemon Tea, comprising lemongrass, lemon balm and lemon verbena. And Shirlie left with a healthy supply of items, as well, including a vial of the Golden Crown Botanical Elixir facial oil roll-on for herself. She and her beau Jim also liked the Herbal Shampoo in bar form. Easy to pack on camping trips, and not considered a liquid in flight carry-ons.

It was a highlight of our central Wisconsin trip to finally visit the Four Elements Herbal Apothecary in person to hand-pick new items and learn more about its earth stewardship and fair trade practices, and the dedicated local talent who grow, create, package and ship products

Owner Jane Stevens & her crew
who farm and create the Four Elements products.

they believe in.

Four Elements. Earth (some of the best soil on the planet). Air (clean air from 55,000 acres of surrounding forests). Water (set among the Baraboo, Wisconsin and Mississippi River watersheds). Fire (summer days of 16 hours of sunshine). It is all pure and vibrant in central Wisconsin. Hoping next year to take part in Four Elements Open Farm Day come spring! 

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For more information about Four Elements Organic Herbals, visit: http://www.fourelementsherbals.com

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A Personal Field Trip to Four Elements Organic Herbals Apothecary

Notes from the “Way-Back Room” -- How I Made My Home Office My Own

I’m a writer and poet. Ideally, I need a quiet place to be creative. It doesn’t have to be large. But for years I never had such a space other than a shared dining room table. Team that with the notion that I was soon to embark on a new work-from-home schedule after a number of years commuting 50 miles a day to and from a suburban company office. Alas, it was high time for my own home office. I was joining the 30 million Americans who now work from home, and more than 60 million who telecommute.

My husband and I have a smallish house, which had no extra bedroom at that time to use as an office. I looked into renting a small office space close to home.  Of course, since we live in the city of Chicago proper, commercial rents are high, even for a one-room office. My husband panicked a little. He didn’t want me spending extra money we didn’t have on office rent.

A creative poet and thinker himself, he brainstormed and suggested converting an enclosed second-floor heated back porch into my home office. It had previously been used as a catchall for storage, odd boxes and a rack of off-season clothes. Similar to the way other people use an attic. I thought we really needed the space for all that stuff. Yet as we cleaned it out, sorted through, and made sure our grown kids took what belongings were theirs, the five-and-a-half foot by 12-foot space opened up before my eyes.

Another woman may have made it into a light and airy feminine walk-in closet, complete with a bench, accordion screen and full-length mirror. And that’s what I may eventually turn that room into if and when we sell our house. A house with an extra closet is extra valuable.

But that can wait. This office was my priority. And for that space, I favored the “Old Chicago” colors of dark rustic red, olive green and ochre yellow for my palette. My husband and stepson gifted me for my birthday with the room conversion paint and labor, meticulously painting each surface in those colors – juggling walls and trim with a mix-and-match of the three hues.

Adding a desk, a lamp, a small file cabinet, a supportive office chair, a number of bookshelves, a small throw rug, curtains that picked up the color scheme, and Chicago-themed art and photos, my office was complete.

I now lovingly call it my “Way-Back Room,” not only because is it the farthest room at the back of the house (with a beautiful view of our back urban vegetable garden, by the way), but also because it’s provided a serene, inspiring and personal space for me to find my “way back” to my writing whenever I enter.

A few small details: I like to cover my desk with a horizontal woven runner to add to even more quiet to the desk, where I place my laptop and active writing files. I stash my cellphone on a higher shelf away from me and use a coaster on my desk to prevent rings and spills from my morning coffee cup. A small wastebasket has proved invaluable in helping get rid of excess papers I no longer need, with the next stop the recycling bin.

Rather odd and serendipitous in such a small space, there are two doors leading from my office. One that connects to the rest of the second floor, and the other leading down back stairs to the first floor kitchen -- where I can grab coffee and pad back up to my haven without waking my husband during early morning writing sessions.  

Ultimately, my “Way Back” home office is not only way-back, but also perched way-up and way wonderful for creative contemplating and productive writing.  Be assured, if you can find a corner in your home that may have once been a walk-in closet, porch, stair landing or kitchen pantry, you can turn it into a creative space that’s uniquely yours.  ◦

Notes from the “Way-Back Room” -- How I Made My Home Office My Own

For this author, a writing contest made all the difference

The following is a reprint of a recent message from my publisher, BookBaby. Company President Steve Spatz interviewed me and wrote this piece in regard to the recent National Indie Excellence Award I received for Frugal Poets' Guide to Life: How to Live a Poetic Life, Even If You Aren't a Poet:

"Last weekend I shared posts on some writing basics to help you start your next book. Today let’s talk about the other end of the process—after you’ve finished and published your book.

That’s where BookBaby author Cynthia Gallaher was last July. She had just published her book, Frugal Poets’ Guide To Life. Gallaher describes her book as 'part personal journey, part life-coaching for poets (or those who’d like to live like one), part creativity guide, and part reference.' Her book is available on her own BookShop page. Take a look.

As all self-published authors know, promoting books can be a daunting task. Gallaher saw a BookBaby blog post on entering book contests and decided to enter a few contests, including the prestigious National Indie Excellence Awards. Read it here.

'When you self-publish, it makes it that much harder to get attention,' said Gallaher. 'As I come from an advertising/marketing background, I understand the need to get the word out to as many potential readers as possible, but the word often needs to be backed with some clout, i.e. a blurb from a well-known author, an excellent review, a high number of Amazon reader reviews, and having your book be an award winner.'

I’m pleased to report her book was one of the 60 top books of 2016 produced by small presses, mid-size independent publishers, university presses, and self-published authors.

'Because my book is independent/self-published, I felt that the National Indie Excellence Awards was a good fit,' said Gallaher. 'The entry fee wasn’t too expensive–remember, I’m a frugal poet! I entered this contest basically to see what others thought. As a result, I was fortunate that National Indie Excellence Awards chose my book as one of its winners. Now I wish I would have entered more contests, but it’s a little late for my 2016 book!'

It’s not too late for self-published authors to enter this year’s contest. Submissions for the 12th Annual National Indie Excellence Awards will open on August 1st, 2017. Here’s the entry form."

All the best,

Steven Spatz

President, BookBaby








Link to a BookBaby online page with the same article. ◦

For this author, a writing contest made all the difference

Finding my first book -- Night Ribbons

After my son marked his third birthday, I felt ready not only to take a small breath after raising a son from a baby to toddlerhood, but also mark a few beats to focus on my next creative leap. I was 35 years old. I had some general hopes and ideas, but little did I know that this would became the year my first book of poems, Night Ribbons, was published.

I thought it was so late in my life in "getting started," although I had been writing poetry for 15 years. It was true that I had given readings all over Chicago, had numerous poems published in small press magazines, but had for many years longed to get my first book published. I sometimes thought it would never happen.

My previous readings and publications came in handy when I drummed up the nerve to apply for artist's grant from the City of Chicago. My step-by-step background served as documentation of my poetry career up until that point. It's what helped me land the grant to fund the publication of my book. I was surprised, thrilled and relieved.

But now to put the actual book together. Riffling through 15 years of poems was an interesting venture to find just the right ones that would help pull the collection together. I focused on four different subcategories to group the poems in the book, almost like chapters: Women of Day and Night, Chicago Days and Nights, Donde Hablan Espanol (Where They Speak Spanish), and Ancient Days, Faraway Nights. These four themes seemed to distill what I had been working on those first 15 years of my writing life.

Gathering poems into themes for Night Ribbons became a lifelong practice for my other books. Although Night Ribbons carried four themes, my subsequent books narrowed down to carry single themes: Earth Elegance (poems  about animals), Swimmer's Prayer (poems about Chicago), and Omnivore Odes: Poems About Food, Herbs and Spices. My nonfiction reference/memoir/creativity guide Frugal Poets' Guide to Life: How to Live a Poetic Life, Even If You Aren't a Poet also carries its own theme. 

At my Night Ribbons book release reading at Guild Books on Lincoln Avenue in Chicago,
I served black and red licorice, and bottles of cheap champagne

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Finding my first book -- Night Ribbons

Frank O'Hara in action at NYC's Museum of Modern Art

I was 12 years old and my mother, stepfather and I had chosen that summer to leave Chicago, at least for a short while, for our big family trip to New York City to see the World’s Fair and all the major sights Manhattan Island had to offer.  None of us had ever been there before, and none of our summer vacations had had its destination as a big city.  

Near the end of our trip, my parents and I were exhausted after a morning of walking for miles and sightseeing in New York City. I was awestruck by New York.  There was more of everything in New York than in Chicago, and the abundance seemed more thought out, more polished, more avant-garde, more talented, more new, and more old.

After much of a day of sight-seeing in Manhattan, we wandered into the Museum of Modern Art like cow-town bumpkins, amazed, tired, and upon entry coming to a revelation that we couldn’t take one more step.  But we had already paid our admission and weren’t about to turn around and go back to our hotel.

What I had expected to see was art. Who I didn't expect to see was Frank O'Hara, the poet, himself. He was one of the art curators at the time at the museum. That was what his obituary said a year later. Yes, that he was a museum curator, the New York Times stated, "but also a poet."

But wait, I was only 12 years old at the time. I didn't know anything about poets or poetry back then. And certainly didn't know who Frank O'Hara was. 

It went like this. My parents and I decided to take a breather and sit in the atrium which led to the sculpture garden.  The sculpture garden had just been redesigned the year before, the brochure read. A long bench was where we parked ourselves faced the window looking out to the sculpture garden. When we turned the other way inward toward the building, we faced a large hallway with a group of workers and museum people talking and maneuvering crated paintings into another room.  

Too exhausted to converse and undistracted by anything else to do, we sat and just absorbed what unfolded before us as if watching a movie. Like someone on a fast, having visions, I watched and remembered with a great intensity. A slim man with a receding hairline was energized over all the commotion of mounting what seemed to be a new exhibit. He paced briskly into other rooms and back out again, stage left and stage right, making lively comments to his fellow workers great and small about the paintings, pointing to one crate and another, turning to someone else to make a remark, then laughing so loudly his melodic voice almost echoed in the halls.  

He didn’t lift a finger, and though directive, was not dictatorial, and seemed to treat the whole episode as if at a party, or a friendly spider excitedly weaving a web around and around where only he could move freely up and down the strands to wherever he wished. It seemed like this man never rested, and did not need to rest. You could almost tell he was always like this. This was him, he loved what was going on, and although he seemed to want to attract a lot of attention to himself, it's as if he did so to invite you in to love what was going on, too, if you wanted. Were the crated items possibly for the forthcoming Robert Motherwell retrospective?

I knew about sex, but knew nothing about homosexuals. I really was naive about it.  I didn’t, at that point, know such a thing existed.  As we continued to watch, my mother grew irritated.

"That guy is too much," she moaned. She seemed disgusted. I couldn’t understand what he had done to offend her.  He wasn’t talking nasty, or wasn’t slobbering around like a drunk, which were two other public behaviors which offended my mother.  She is a person who can’t stand when a person puts on airs. It seemed as if the man’s vocal, though light bravura got to her.

 

"I wish he’d just go away," she said. "Get lost," she said softly, "or we’ll get lost." To me, he was just being enthusiastic. In fact, his energy seemed to energize the fatigue I was feeling, and his enthusiasm over the paintings somewhat primed me to discover for myself when we’d go upstairs to see the galleries what he found so compelling between four stretcher strips. 

Years later, as I began to make my own way through the world as a poet, I read Frank O'Hara's poetry and as well as his biography City Poet: The Life and Times of Frank O'Hara, learning then of his work as a curator at the Museum of Modern Art. Wasn't he the energetic man I had witnessed during my visit to New York City as a seventh grader? Although I knew nothing of his poetry, or anything about poetry at that age, wasn't I inspired by him, at least back then, by his enthusiasm, so precious especially in light of it being his last year of life, not knowing that an accidental death lay before him that next summer. 

Why were my parents and I led to the museum that day? Only to spend an hour of our time sitting on a bench? I think it was a personal blessing for me to see a great poet, Frank O'Hara, in action, not reciting poetry, but celebrating life itself.

I mention Frank O'Hara in my new nonfiction reference/memoir/how-to/creativity guide Frugal Poets' Guide to Life: How to Live a Poetic Life, Even If You Aren't a Poet, and how City Lights Pocket Poet Series published O'Hara's Lunch Poems.

              

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Frank O'Hara in action at NYC's Museum of Modern Art