There lived a sage in days of yore, And he a handsome pigtail wore; But wondered much and sorrowed more Because it hung behind him. — Thackeray It’s a cute piece of doggerel which, candidly, hasn’t a thing to do with this column. I have no idea where my first sage came from.

It was there — in my herb garden — and grew thick (which I now know was a mistake for this plant should not be allowed to get woody) and high (well, high for sage) for a number of years. That it grew unmolested may have contributed to its health. In all honesty, I didn’t know what to do with it. I’m really not creative when it comes to “fresh,” lazily preferring to open a bottle or a jar when the recipe calls for it.

Once I had to beg to be given some mint and now struggle regularly to keep it from taking over the garden. Also growing out there are parsley which is pretty and would compliment almost any dish (let’s skip breakfast, OK?) if/when I remember.

Basil, right along beside it, is a joy though pesto remains beyond my time or appetite. (It’s the very best in a sandwich with fresh sliced tomato and a touch or two of Hellman’s.) Perhaps I’ll write about those two in the future but sage is it for today. I like it simply because it grows — well, yes, like a weed and so is a nice (anybody say easy?) addition to my herb garden.

My first plant grew so thick I eventually had to cut it back with serious pruners. Ultimately it turned out that winter did to it what I couldn’t. So new for 2016. It too has taken over, hidden mostly beneath the fervent window box plantings dangling above. I know sage is a must at Thanksgiving time: stuffing wouldn’t be stuffing without it. And I’ve written enough about other herbs to have suspected this too has benefits for healthy living. But is there anything that makes this particularly special? Silly question. Silly woman. It didn’t take a lot of research to discover that sage seems to be the herb of choice whether for epicurean or medicinal purposes. The ancient Arabs were fond of asking how could a man die if he had sage in his garden? I think they had a point. Ancient Egyptians used it as a fertility drug and in the first century C.E. the Greeks mixed it with water to stop bleeding wounds and ulcers. Those wise old herbalists also treated hoarseness and coughs, sprains and swellings, sore throats, and, especially it seems, used it to strengthen the nervous system, improve memory and sharpen the senses. It was officially listed in the U.S. Pharmacopoeia for sixty years until 1900. No way can I list everything sage is still used to cure (even if I just stuck to those words I understood) but let’s try some, starting with the comment that the Chinese traded their black teas to the Europeans for sage which they used to treat indigestion. It is approved in Germany as a rinse or gargle for sore throats as well as in medicines for inflamed mucous membranes of the mouth and throat, and for gastrointestinal remedies. In 1997 the United Kingdom’s questionnaire to medical herbalists found that many used it in their practice to combat night sweats and hot flashes.

It was also commonly prescribed as a gargle or mouthwash for mouth and gum diseases. If that isn’t enough, a general tonic is used to improve fatigue, nervous exhaustion, immune system depletion as well as poor memory and concentration. (Studies being run now are considering its application in new drugs to treat Alzheimer’s.) Turns out super-strong tea can be used to heal brushburns.

As a tinting agent to darken graying hair, try one teaspoon of fresh sage in equal parts (1/2 pint each) of Chinese tea and boiling water. Or use it to cleanse oily skin and open pores (1/4 pint boiling water and cider vinegar and 2 T. chopped sage). Or, rub it daily on your teeth to get them sparkling white.

One needn’t be ailing, however, to enjoy this fine herb. I’m told a cup of pulverized fresh sage leaves added to a bottle of Claret or good Burgundy makes a pleasant and rather exotic beverage with meals though it’s best to begin imbibing slowly to let the body adjust. Every sort of recipe imaginable can probably be found one place or another but I did discover one final warning. “A light September harvest is all that will be possible the first year.” And then be certain to only take the leaves and stems high up on the plant. Glad I found all this back then. Just in time for this year. Now to let it dry and get busy.

Susan Crossett has lived outside Cassadaga for more than 20 years. A lifetime of writing led to these columns as well as two novels. “Her Reason for Being” was published in 2008 with “Love in Three Acts” following in 2014. Information on all the Musings, her books and the author may be found at Susancrossett.com.