Welp, the elderberry syrup was sort of a disaster. I am so disappointed. I’m going to try again, but I’ll show you what happened anyway. First, let me explain the title.
I think there may be a pox on my house when it comes to natural remedies. There’s this elderberry flop, the Classical Conversations Information Night Hindenburg Situation and then the more recent Christmas Eve Master Tonic Bomb.
Out of self-respect I never wrote about the Classical Conversations Information Night Hindenburg Situation but I may as well come clean as it falls into the “natural remedy fail” category. Back in August, on one of those days that it was about four thousand degrees, we had a meeting for potential families who were interested in joining our particular CC group. I was to be a greeter along with my friend Anna. We just had to stand out in the vestibule of the church and direct people to the room where the meeting was to take place. Easy, right? It should have been a breeze but there should NOT have been a self-created breeze coming from the back of my tent dress. But there was.
I’d decided earlier in the day that I was done with kombucha. It was a pain, I was sick of dealing with making huge quantities of tea and I decided I’d just buy BioKult from Amazon and take that as my probiotic instead. I’d consumed all the tea-like kombucha in the jars and all that remained was the starter and the SCOBY. I used the scobies to fertilize my plants around the mailbox but I couldn’t let that starter go to waste. My tolerance for sour had gone waaaaaaay up – I could drink apple cider vinegar straight – so I decided to pour all the left over starter into a cup and drink it. I’d say it was eh…close to 10 ounces, maybe 15. It was a good bit. Oh it was sour and SO strong. It was almost too strong for me, keeping in mind I could drink vinegar straight. It never occurred to me that it might inadvertently start a cleanse in my colon.
I drank it about 2 pm. The meeting was at 6, I believe. Around 4 pm I noticed that my stomach had blown up like a basketball and I looked pregnant. It hurt. I could feel air moving around, I could HEAR air moving around inside. Dave got home and I had to take a shower and get ready. That’s when the air started coming out. Oh my goodness. I almost drove myself out of the shower. Eye-watering, gag-inducing, “who pelted my bathroom wall with a dozen rotten eggs?” air was escaping from my body! WHAT WAS I GOING TO DO?! I HAD TO GREET PEOPLE!
“Hello, can I kill you with my gas? Wouldn’t you like to join our group? You might end up in my class!”
I was so bloated none of my pants would fit, not even my go-to fat jeans that always fit. My J Crew capri pants I can always count on cut me in half like a blob of play dough and my gut stuck above and below the waistband like a cartoonish park ranger. I only had one item in my closet that might work and I shuddered at the thought of actually wearing it in public as an actual garment.
My black swim cover-up.
It could pass as a maxi-dress but it was a $12 swim cover from Target. There’s no denying, it was not a dress, not meant to be worn without a bathing suit underneath. But it was the only thing that would conceal my gut, allow the gas inside to bubble and roil and make me entirely miserable. So I put it on and threw on a short-sleeved crocheted jacket and went on my way.
No one seemed to notice. The dress anyway. I had to run outside a few times and hide in the bushes and pretend to “look” for something, sighing in relief and shaking out my swim cover/dress, hoping it didn’t carry my dirty secret with me. Then we had to sit still in chairs for an hour in a very small, packed room.
Buns of steel. That’s all I’m saying. Nothing embarrassing happened, thank the LORD!!
Then I went home and let it rip. And I will never, ever drink kombucha starter ever again. Ever. Unless I am going to be trapped in a small room with an enemy.
End of Part I