Making a Believer

Superman has been a bit slow into coming around to my herbal ways.  He has always been supportive of my beliefs and my use of natural medicine, but when it comes to using them himself he has been a bit reluctant.  That is changing slowly, but the proof is in the pudding and he just can't deny when my methods work. 

A few days ago, we were out in the yard and he was restringing my clothes line.  A sudden rain storm caught my towels out to dry last week and the weight of the drenched fabric snapped the already frayed lines.  Unbeknownst to him, the bees had built a hive in the pipe across top and as he pulled the rope through he disrupted the community.  Fortunately, it was a cool day and only one bee ventured out to investigate, but Superman ended up getting stung in the palm of his hand.  Since I was standing right over a bunch of Plantain I simply snatched up a leaf, gave it a quick chew, and spit it on the throbbing bite.  A few minutes later, he wiped the green goo off and continued his task with out pain or stiffness.  He is now a believer in the power of Plantain.  Add that to his acceptance of ginger for stomach aches and his positive reaction to my Achy Joint Salve...I'm making progress! 

A Dangerous Mind

It is a generally accepted fact that thoughts, negative or positive, contain power.  Since witches frequently work with and rely on this power to make changes in the world around them, nobody should be more familiar with this fact than a witch.  One night last week I forgot and learned a valuable lesson. 

Maybe it all started because I don't get angry very often...or because I was tired...or because I am enormously pregnant...what ever it was, it was completely uncalled for.  In many ways, I hate to even admit that it happened because I did inflict harm on someone.  Someone I love very much and who would never consider harming me: Superman. 

Sleep has been a difficult issue at our house lately.  As my girth has grown immensely with this pregnancy, I have developed as serious case of insomnia.  That, combined with the fact that our bed is has a miniature version of the Grand Canyon running down the center of it, some times makes nights insufferably long.  I toss and turn trying to find a comfortable position and when I finally settle into something semi-suitable poor circulation causes my legs and feet to start twitching madly.  As bad as this is for me, I at least have the option of attempting to nap the following day.  My poor husband just drags his exhausted self through the day with the hopes of getting a few hours of sleep the following night in the same defunct bed with the same crazy, tossing, turning, twitching wife.  On the night in question, it just got to be too much for him to bare.

It was a particularly hot evening and I have to admit we were both already feeling a little off.  I had found a semi comfortable position and was starting to drift off when the twitching started.   Fatigue had me that evening and my body was determined to sleep, so I proceeded to head toward la-la land not noticing that the equally exhausted man beside me was about to bubble over.  Just before I was about to doze he nearly vaulted out of the bed, snatched up his pillow, and stormed to the couch muttering about his lack of sleep, the fact that I did have a nap option where he did not, and maybe that I took excessive advantage of those naps. 

A bit taken back and hurt by the mutterings, I followed him to the living room to try and make things right. When it was apparent that he did not want to return to bed and that he simply did not even want to talk to me, I returned to our bedroom wide awake.  Sleep was no longer an option so I decided to try and read, but found myself struggling with the comfort issue once again.  Sitting on the bed made my back hurt and it seemed like I had to reposition myself after every paragraph. 

I longed for the slightly elevated level of comfort the couch would have offered my awkwardly shaped figure. 

I struggled to focus on my book and instead dwelled on the comments he had made on his way out of the bedroom. 

I wished he were in the bed and I in the living room so I at least had to option of finding some dull show on Hulu to lull me to sleep. 

I imagined him sleeping blissfully. 

I got angry. 

Book open and forgotten in my lap, I begin to simmer.  Soon I was sending pointedly hostile thoughts in his direction.  I didn't think his attitude was fair and I wanted it gone.  Specifically, I wanted him to know just how uncomfortable I was...how uncomfortable I had been for weeks.  After all, it was his baby too and missing a little sleep was minor compared to all the discomforts that had seemed to pile up on me during this pregnancy.  Unkind and negative thoughts erupted from my mind and when I had exhausted my list of grievances, I started all over at the beginning.  Of course, they were petty grievances, but with the state I was in they grew like mushrooms in manure. It was a vicious cycle and who knows how long it would have continued had my overly pregnant self not had to make a bathroom run. 

On my way through the living room, I noticed that Superman instead of blissfully lounging in sleep, was laying in a somewhat contorted position on the couch.  He was also grumbling incoherently and moaning.  Urged by my stressed bladder, I continued on to the bathroom, but when his condition hadn't changed on the way back through I knew I had to wake him.  Physically distancing myself from the negativity I had created in the bedroom had caused my anger to dissipate and I sat on the edge of the couch and woke him as a nice, sane wife should.  I gently spoke to him and asked what was wrong.  His answer caused my stomach to heave.  Soon after moving to the couch he had developed a terrible headache and what sleep he had managed to get had been plagued by nightmares. 

For all the times I had sent him positive energy to calm a rough day or ease an illness, it had never occurred to me that my anger and it's negative energy would effect him on equal footing.   Of course, I wanted to right the wrong I had done and immediately set about surrounding him with healing power while easing him back toward sleep after bringing him back to bed.  Luckily, it was a lesson learned with minimal damage done.  He forgave me and all is well, but it is a lesson I will not soon forget. 

Southern Style Biscuits: A Bit of Kitchen Witchery

 

 

 

Although I do not consider myself a Kitchen Witch, I do practice a bit of Kitchen Witchery from time to time.  To tell the truth, I believe that any one who has ever whipped up special comfort food for a loved one has knowingly or unknowingly practiced this form of the craft.  Yesterday morning, getting ready for work, Superman was dragging his feet like a school boy with a history test he hadn't studied for.  The previous day had been particularly stressful and he was dreading a repeat.  There wasn't much I could do to ease his frustration, so I did what I could. I gave him something to look forward to-the promise of a batch of fresh, homemade biscuits when he came home for lunch.  Now Superman is all Southern and nothing says love to a Southern man like biscuits and sweet tea.  Since we are never without sweet tea, I was already halfway there. 

 

About an hour before he was due to arrive home, I smudged the house and started mixing up his favorite biscuits.  I started my milk to clabbering and mixed all my dry ingredients.  This is where the magic comes in.  Then instead of cutting the butter in, I used my clean hands to sift and squeeze, incorporating the two together.  While I mixed those ingredients, I silently focused my energy and love through my hands while envisioning a comfortable, content husband.   I saw him sitting at the counter, happily eating his buttered biscuits while all the stress of his morning flowed away.  After adding the clabbered milk my go-to substitution of buttermilk I lightly kneaded the dough, once again focusing on my husband and the relaxed state I wanted to evoke.  Finally, I shaped the biscuits and put them in the fridge to wait and be slid into the hot oven as my Superman walked through the door.   

 

The magic was a complete success.  Not only did my husband feel loved and happy eating his biscuits, that feeling of relaxation carried him into the afternoon.  He didn't have a wonderful day at work, but he managed to get through it with minimal frustration.  He was even able to shake off an incident that would usually have caused a confrontation. 

 

Even though I do say so myself, I have never found a biscuit recipe better than mine.  It is many batches worth of experimentation using various recipes as sources until I found just the right combination and technique.  The ingredients are pretty basic, but there are a few guidelines that come with this recipe. 

 

For the absolute best biscuits, use real butter and use it cold.  Also, make sure the shaped biscuits are cold when you put them in the oven.  I like to pan my biscuits ahead of time and put the pan into the fridge.  Then, just before we are ready to eat, I put my cold biscuits into a hot oven.  This technique is the big secret to tender, fluffy biscuits. 

 

Southern Style Biscuits

 

3/4 cup milk

1 TBL lemon juice or apple cider vinegar

 

2 cups all purpose flour

2 1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

1/3 cup cold butter, cubed

 

Combine milk and lemon juice/vinegar in a cup or bowl and set aside to clabber.  If you've never done this, don't be surprised at the outcome.  The milk will sour and curd up.  That is exactly the result we are looking for. 

 

Mix dry ingredients and cut in cold butter cubes.  Stir in clabbered milk and knead lightly.  At this point, I sometimes add yummy extras to create fancy "steak house biscuits."  Fresh rosemary and parmesan or fresh cracked pepper and cheddar are two of my favorites.  Shape biscuits either in the traditional way by rolling and cutting or by hand like I do.  By hand keeps the working of the dough to a minimum and results in more tender biscuits.  In my home, biscuits are big and always eaten fresh from the oven: this recipe creates six, but doubles or even triples easily. 

 

Pan biscuits and allow to chill while oven heats to 475.  Bake for 12 minutes and serve hot with butter gravy, jelly, honey, plain, how ever you want. 

 

 

 

Love Reflected

The Stone Charged with Love and Sunshine

This morning, I found a "new" stone sitting with my art supplies on the kitchen counter.  Since Superman is constantly bringing me stones I knew it had been left there for me to find,  but from the moment I picked it up I knew this one was special.  It isn't the most beautiful or unique stone he has brought me and like many others in my collection it emits a low steady pulse of energy, along with something else I couldn't identify right away. 

By the time my husband had emerged from the shower, I knew that this stone wasn't going to be added to the collection on the shrine.  I wanted it near me.  I envisioned wrapping it in wire and wearing it around my neck, but the truth was I was already becoming addicted to the feel of it in my hand.  I needed to know more about this stone that I had so quickly become fascinated with, so I asked Superman about it.  Then I understood. 

This past weekend, he and Miss Busy had been outside playing while I fixed a snack in the kitchen.  When I emerged from the apartment, I found her toddling around his Harley and he very patiently telling her the names of all the parts and explaining what they did.  At some point during their time together, Miss Busy had latched on to this particular rock and had been very reluctant to let it go (she is still in the stage where she mouths everything, so letting her keep it wasn't an option).  When he had finally convinced her to relinquish it, he had slipped it in his pocket then promptly forgot about it for a day or two. 

Somehow, the magic of love and sunshine had become infused in this stone.  It holds the memory of a beautiful daddy/daughter moment that was so generously shared with me.  I have always known that one can attach certain emotions to an item associated with an event, but this is the first time I have experienced being "given" a moment that I did not share in.  What a wonderful way to experience love this Beltane week.

I Think I Did Something Right!

 

 

This past week, I made my husband an achy joint salve that does so  much more.  Let me 'splain. 

 

Using herbs medicinally is nothing new to me, but this was my first attempt to try and incorporate the magical properties of herbs.  My husband has been having increasing pain in nearly all his joints, so I needed to make him a salve. My previous knowledge of herbs told me that ginger and a touch of cayenne should soothe and reduce inflammation, but I wanted to go a bit further this time.  Using my resources for magical herbalism, I decided to try adding a trio of magical herbs for energy; cinnamon, carnation, and dragon's blood.  When my trip to the local health food store only turned up one of the three special ingredients, I decided to incorporate it all the same. 

 

So we are talking about a simple salve of ginger, cayenne, and cinnamon. It sounds pretty basic. Not having the other two magical elements I expected the cinnamon to do little more than add aroma and maybe a touch of heat to the warming element of the salve.  All the same, I charged my ingredients and proceeded to create my salve. 

 

The following morning, hubby woke up more achy than usual and I proceeded to rub the new salve into his hands, feet, and back.  Medicinally, it was spot on.  As I worked in the salve, I could feel the tightness recede and the inflammation drain away.  What happened next is where the surprise came in.  My previously achy, far side of forty-year-old husband started acting like a teenage boy. 

 

After a nap that resulted in very little rest, my husband turned to me and asked, "Wow!  What was that."  I had to grin just a little as I told him,

 

"It must have been the cinnamon." 

 

It wasn't a fluke either, I felt it to a lesser degree from the contact with my hands and we have tested it since with the same outcome.  Yes, I had known that one of the magical properties of cinnamon is to incite sexual passion, but since that was not my intent and it was a single herb working alone I had dismissed it's power.  I doubt I'll make that mistake again, but I will be making more achy joint salve.