I hope this is the weirdest thing you read all day and that your day gets more normal from here on.
The mandrake root. You’ve probably heard of it. It’s a root that has been part of culture and mythology for ages, and it’s shaped kinda like a person. Apparently, they’re referenced in those boy wizard books.
The dog trick
It was long believed that these roots held some kind of power. And it was believed that the mandrake would scream when you pulled it out of the ground and that scream would mean death to those that heard it.
So in old times, people found a workaround. To avoid pulling the root and hearing the horrible scream, they would tie their dog to the mandrake and then throw a treat, and the dog would run after it, pulling up the mandrake, and at the same time they blew a loud horn to drown out the scream.
And yes, people drew pictures of this:
Root for your health
Mandrake was used for thousands of years as medicine. It was used as an anesthetic, a pain reliever, an antidepressant, a fertility aid, and other things. It is also, however, a member of the poisonous nightshade family.
They were also sold as amulets and people would carry them around for good luck. Joan of Arc was accused of carrying around mandrake.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed and please don’t make your dog pull up screaming roots. In fact, just don’t try any of this home.
- Joe
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Poem of the week
Song: Go and catch a falling star
By John Donne
Go and catch a falling star, Get with child a mandrake root, Tell me where all past years are, Or who cleft the devil's foot, Teach me to hear mermaids singing, Or to keep off envy's stinging, And find What wind Serves to advance an honest mind. If thou be'st born to strange sights, Things invisible to see, Ride ten thousand days and nights, Till age snow white hairs on thee, Thou, when thou return'st, wilt tell me, All strange wonders that befell thee, And swear, No where Lives a woman true, and fair. If thou find'st one, let me know, Such a pilgrimage were sweet; Yet do not, I would not go, Though at next door we might meet; Though she were true, when you met her, And last, till you write your letter, Yet she Will be False, ere I come, to two, or three.