Borage

Mummie bee has the greenest fingers in Somerset.
It is actually FourBees' secret ambition to escape the sleazy world of journalism, grow herbs by the sea in northern Portugal and never have to go near a whining, creaking laptop ever, ever again.
One of my favourite plants in Bee-Senior's ever-burgeoning, if a tad overgrown and rambling garden is Common Borage (Borago officinalis ) which has the most gorgeous blue petals and many medicinal properties.
Common Borage is believed to have originated in Aleppo, northwest Syria.
Some herbalists believe Borage's Latin name Borago comes from a corruption of corago, a combination of cor (heart) and ago (I bring) to denote its cordial, healing effect on the heart.
In Mediterranean countries, where it grows prolifically and with as much weedlike enthusiasm as in Queen Bee's garden, it is spelled borrage possibly from the Italian borra or French bourra meaning hair or wool, in reference to the thick covering of white hairs on the whole plant.
Borage is good for improving the mood.
The 17th century diarist John Evelyn wrote, 'Sprigs of Borage are of known virtue to revive the hypochondriac and cheer the hard student.'
Culpepper added that the plant is 'useful in putrid and pestilent fever, the venom of serpents, jaundice, consumption, sore throat and rheumatism'.
Bacon confided that it 'hath an excellent spirit to repress the fuliginous vapour of dusky melancholie'.
We could all do with some of that as the gloomy, long days of winter approacheth.
Recent studies have found that the bodacious borage - also known as Starflower - contains gamma linolenic acid (GLA) which can kill brain, breast and prostate cancer cells.
I find the petals make an elegant addition to salads.
They have a subtle watery cucumber flavour which also creates an interesting sauce for delicate white fish such as sole or plaice.

© FourBees-gone-all-green digital photo