Bread poultice
The Cove Journal by JoDee Samuelson

“Well I never! A bread poultice!” I whispered to my neighbor, “Did you ever hear of such a thing?” She shook her head.
“It’s easy to make,” said K the presenter. “Warm some milk—not to boiling, but hot, then stir in some chopped bread and a little baking soda till it’s thick.”
“White bread?” M asked. I wondered that too.
“Any bread. When it’s all cooled a bit put some on a cloth and lay it on the wound. I swear it healed the infection around my husband’s ingrown toenail in one day.” K nodded her head knowingly and continued. “You’ve heard of mustard plasters for lung congestion?” We all had. “A tablespoon of mustard powder and tablespoon of white flour mixed with water to a paste. Spread some on cheesecloth and place it on the chest. —Has anybody here seen cheesecloth lately? It’s surprisingly thin. Maybe it always was, I don’t know. You’ll need several layers.”
“You could use old pillowcase material,” D volunteered.
B chimed in. “Mom swore by Vick’s Vap-o-rub.”
“And cod liver oil!” exclaimed W.
“Certainly,” said the presenter. “Our parents were still in touch with the old ways. I remember running down to the gravel pit to pick brown alder buds for mother to boil up when anyone had diarrhea. Goodness me, it smelled bad!”
H offered, “Mom gave us Watkins Wild Strawberry Extract. The name sounds delicious—who doesn’t love wild strawberries?—but it tasted terrible.”
“It probably wasn’t made from the berries. Anyhow,” K continued, “I suppose you’ve heard of the benefits of emu oil?” No, we hadn’t. “It’s a cure—can we call it that?—for arthritis, bruises, cuts. The oil comes from a strip of fat across an emu’s back. A lot of people raised emus here for a while, it seemed like a real farming option, but then it ended. Too bad.” She shook her head sadly.
“And does anybody remember your mother putting a slice of onion by your bedside when you had a cold?” Some women nodded. “Onions are miraculous. Chop an onion up fine, cover it with honey for a few days, and sip a tablespoon of the onion-honey liquid from time to time. You’ll be amazed how it clears the lungs.”
Other women chimed in: “Honey is good for burns.” “Medics in the war used to carry honey with them to put on open wounds. It’s an antiseptic of sorts.” “They found honey in the pyramids that’s still good!”
We had to be called back to order. “A few more ideas before I finish,” said K. “A drop of pure lavender oil for bug bites and itches… Epsom salts for… peppermint oil on the temples calms a headache… tallow from grass-fed cattle mixed with avocado oil…” I’m taking notes furiously but miss a lot.
It’s a cold black night in January and we’re holding the first Woman’s Institute meeting of the year. We’re glad to see one another, we love talking about traditional remedies and about life in the Cove, and we couldn’t be having a nicer time.
