Mom is the home remedy queen. Something I take for granted until my general health dips. Years ago when she visited me for a week, she battled a ragweed allergy. She didn’t load up on cough drops like I normally do. Instead, she kept making herself garlic shots.
She peels a garlic clove. Minces it in a press. The contents of which goes into a spoon. Then she sweetens it with a little juice and takes it like a spoonful of medicine, which in a way it is.
I no longer drink juice on a regular basis.
As a matter of fact, when I bought two bulbs of garlic, I didn’t even think about how I’d sweeten it.
I had the proper apparatus, which is funny since I hardly ever bother with it.
These days, I either handchop raw garlic or put it in my blender.
Unlike manufactured medicines, I don’t take a full tablespoon of raw garlic.
Three little doses are so much better than one heaping, soul-burning tablespoon of raw garlic.
In the morning, I fill my spoon with water, but for the afternoon and evening doses, I’ve found yet another practical use for boxed wine.
That spout is a controlled way to dispense a medicinal amount into a spoon.
As much as I like red wine, I prefer it without the garlic, but garlic slides down nicely with it.
Although I have cough drops on my grocery shopping list for next week, I won’t need to gobble them down like I’ve done. Raw garlic shots thrice a day should do the trick. I’m limiting it to three small shots because Mom went overboard during the beginning of the plague when no one could be vaccinated. She gave herself garlic-induced dry eyes, which she had to counterbalance with eyedrops.
I’m not trying to give myself something else to remedy. There are already too many fires to take care of.