Kitchen Witch

4 | Apothecary

Charlotte settled into her two weeks of isolation at the little yellow house quite easily. Her furniture was delivered conveniently the day after she moved in.  While she waited once again safely in her car, maintaining the 6ft distance at all times. She had left sticky notes in the rooms of the house that corresponded to the boxes she had packed up in Stonebridge. The furniture was mostly placed where she wanted it, and anything too heavy to move on her own, in the shimmy shake back and forth wobble method, would just have to wait 14 days for her to get help. She had planned ahead and had packed paint and supplies to get started on the mudroom's renovations. Her groceries were delivered from the local grocery mart. She lived too far away for Instacart, but the little grocery mart was more than willing to drop her list off on the porch. A sweet welcome note was attached, and a tin of homemade cookies was included.

Pulling her long, dirty blonde hair—well, graying dirty blonde– up into a messy bun, Charlotte played with a stray curl. The gray was standing out more now that her highlights were growing out. She liked to think of them as natural glittery highlights. She really didn't mind the gray, but she did find herself staring back at her reflection, somewhat taken aback by the woman staring back at her. Her face had changed so much in the last year since their divorce. Some would say (and she knew exactly who) that she had let herself go. But in reality, it was she who had let go of her bindings. No more excessive dieting, calorie counting, gym memberships, salon appointments, and expensive clothing, all made to fit into a too-tight mould. Her face was fuller, her hips wider, and her belly was rounder. She didn't even care about that lower belly thing; what did they call it a FUPA? That was all the rage to accept and not cover-up. Charlotte Grace is on trend; who knew? 

Some women in divorce would stress lose weight, becoming gaunt and weak, almost brittle-like. Some would lose weight on purpose, a revenge weight loss. Charlotte gained weight and became stronger with her curves; it seemed deviant, actually. Breaking the mould as she squeezed into her threadbare Lulu leggings. They really did have great stretch, but she was one deep squat and strong fart away from busting them wide open. Charlotte laughed out loud at herself, feeling somewhat shocked at her thoughts and equally as free. On went her favourite oversized comfy sweatshirt, as the fall air was crisp even inside the house. She couldn't bear to keep all the windows shut, loving the briny maritime breeze that wafted in. Feeling armed in her messy bun and sweatshirt, she was ready to start ripping down the lockers, tearing down to start anew.

She quite enjoyed the quiet isolation, filling her days with work on transforming the little mudroom into her apothecary. There was something so satisfying pulling down the old farmhouse-style lockers with the crowbar. Jamming it in between the wood and putting her weight to good use, prying them off the wall. As she worked on wrenching back the last board she noticed marks on the wall from a long ago family. Children's heights captured in ticks on the wall. She could even make out their faint names and the dates. "Lucy 1994, Ava 1996." She ran her finger over the marks, thinking of her children. She wished she had made a mark of her own children's growth. Time moves so quickly, sweet sticky fingers replaced with grown women an ocean away. But he would have never let her mark the walls of their home. No things needed to appear perfect. Charlotte resolved to leave these precious marks up on the wall, even if it would look silly painting around them.

The work on the apothecary passed quickly, even with daily breaks to walk past the dunes and down to the beach for her daily beach strolls with Charlie. They measured their days by the highs and lows of the tides, daring to see just how far out they could walk. It was as if she could feel something familiar calling her out further each time, urging her to uncover some secret. It was calming walking the ocean floor bed searching for treasures, always after just one more before turning around to head home. Her pockets were continuously dusted inside with red sand and filled with random shells. She had bowls of beach collections in almost every room of the house. The organic free-form shape of the oyster shells with their blue colouring was her favourite. She even had a small but beautiful collection of sea glass started and stored in a large quahaug shell on her bedroom dresser. The soft sand burnished edges of the coloured glass more precious than any piece of jewelry.

Charlotte had even begun to investigate the various seaweeds found drying on the shore, collecting dulce, various kelps, sea lettuce, and the like. She began tying up bunches on the back deck to sway in the breeze and finish their drying process. They added to that marine, briny, salty scent to the air that she so loved. It wasn't a constant scent, but one brought to her nose in currents with the breeze, like notes in a song. She would find herself inhaling deeply as if taking in a favourite flower's scent. Charlotte called out to Charlie, encouraging him to leave his latest sniff find and join her in walking back to the house. She was on a mission today to get the last of her jars and materials unpacked and set up in her little apothecary. Despite the calming natural rhythms of their days, she was beginning to get antsy. One more day, and she would be free to explore her new home properly.

Charlotte cut open the packing tape on the last of the boxes, carefully pulling out the glass jars wrapped in mountains of packing paper. She had carefully wrapped and packed up each of these jars back in Stonebridge months ago. Opening them up now was like being reintroduced to the pieces of herself that she wanted to keep and bring with her into her new life. Ashwagandha for stamina and endurance, rhodiola for resilience, ginseng for vitality, rosemary for memories, lavender and passionflower for peace, sage for mental clarity, and even jasmine for love. She smiled, taking inventory of the room and how all the jars neatly lined up on the shelves. There was an elegant organization to it juxtaposed against the wildness of the hanging drying herbs, flowers and seaweed strung in garlands across the ceiling. Or the newly potted cuttings lined up on the window sill with greenery exploding in every direction. Glancing toward the windowsill made Charlotte smile, the pots were made up of old treasured teacups. They had been glued back together in various places, some still missing a handle or chipped here and there. But like Charlotte, they had been placed back together to create something stronger, something beautiful in its imperfection. Her hands moved in an old habitual pattern to her hips, but instead of poking at her bones, she patted the softness and smiled.

In the middle of the room, she had assembled a large island work surface to house her hot plate, kettle, crockpot, and her prized possession: a pestle and mortar made out of aventurine. Its pastel green colour was thought to attract positive energies, making it the perfect tool for her little apothecary. The beautiful set had been an unlikely gift from Martha, her old friend from playgroup. Martha had always come off as cold and standoffish. Charlotte had been convinced the woman didn't even like her, always feeling like she was being judged. Maratha barely attempted to hide her opinions on what or how Charlotte did things; there was always this passive-aggressive air to her. So when she became Charlotte's biggest ally in helping her discover and build her little side venture making teas and natural compounds, it was a great surprise to Charlotte. Charlotte made a mental note to touch base with Martha and the girls, feeling guilty for having forgotten lost in the unpacking.