Homemade Apothecary: Growing a Garden of Remedies
When I first dreamed of creating an apothecary at Pauline Manor, I pictured shelves lined with jars of herbs, tinctures, and homemade remedies. Nothing fancy or complicated, just old-fashioned ways of using the garden to care for ourselves.

The best place to begin is in the soil. An apothecary section of the garden feels like the most natural step, growing the plants that will fill those jars and eventually make their way into our everyday lives. I want to be able to step outside and pick what we need, whether it is a sprig of mint for a queasy stomach, chamomile flowers to steep into a calming tea, or sprigs of thyme to toss in a pot of soup when someone is under the weather.
But it does not stop there. The herbs I grow will eventually spill over into the bakery, becoming soaps, candles, and little comforts made with the same hands that grow them. A bar of lavender soap from lavender grown right here in the garden, or a rosemary and lemon balm candle poured in the kitchen, feels like the perfect extension of what Pauline Manor is all about. Simple things, made well, rooted in this place.

I imagine rows of chamomile, its cheerful little flowers drying on screens before being tucked into jars for tea. Peppermint and spearmint sending up fragrant leaves that can cool you on a summer day or soothe a winter stomach ache. Thyme and sage, sturdy and dependable, ready to become both medicine and flavor in the kitchen. Echinacea, with its bold purple blooms, standing tall as both a pollinator favorite and a natural immune supporter. Lavender, soft and fragrant, destined for soaps, sachets, and maybe even a honey infusion or two. Calendula, glowing bright orange in the beds, perfect for salves that comfort tired skin. And lemon balm, with its fresh, citrusy scent, a natural stress reliever waiting to be brewed into tea or blended into a candle.
One day, there will be jars lined up on a shelf, not just for our family, but for others, too. I love the thought of someone lighting a candle and breathing in the scent of herbs grown in this very garden, or lathering up with a bar of soap that carries the story of Pauline Manor in every petal and leaf.

This apothecary garden is just beginning, but it already feels like a bridge between past and present. Old-fashioned remedies and traditions meeting modern life in a way that is both practical and beautiful. It may take time to grow and to fill those shelves, but every plant added to the garden brings us closer. That is exactly the kind of slow, intentional living I want for Pauline Manor.