Ever
since I first started dabbling in the world of On line Witchcraft and Blogging
about my personal practice, I have held something of a torch for the magna
mater of down and dirty, brutalist agrarian derived and orthodox inspired
witchcraft that is the magnanimous Mrs. Graveyard Dirt. So as soon as she put
out the call for folks to take part in her Holy Supper Challenge I was of
course, champing at the bit to join in the noisy-as-fuck revelry.
Sadly,
it took me two years to actually get my shit together and to host my own
Finnish Influenced Holy Supper.
Even
then, I have to say that the event was a pale shadow of the frankly
awe-inspiring feast that Dirty and Italics throw. There are reasons (aren’t
there always) for why my supper went down without the desired bang and instead
with something of a limp-dicked whimper: But I am not going to bore you with
those. What I will say is that the little ember of Holy Supper revelry has been
enkindled in yours truly, and from here on out I am pledging to show not only
the Holy Supper, but indeed all the Holy Days, their due respect and pomp and
circumstance!
I am
a fucking Kitchen Witch!!! This is my fucking bread and butter!
So
how did the 2012 Holy Supper throw down in Stepford Australia?
My boyfriend left on a six-week holiday across India and Vietnam today, and so when I returned home from dropping him at the airport, I started putting together the small altar for Saint Christopher, in order to perform a petition for safe travel for my guy.
There's a lot of witches out there who find it reprehensible to work with or within the realms of Christianity,
I have the paternal instinct of sand, and about as much desire to procreate as I do to harbour a colony of wasps in my sinus. I am, however, very fatherly towards my rapidly expanding collection of herbs here at Stepford Manor. That said, I'm also something of a deadbeat dad. Like, I'm all proud of my kids when they're growing and developing really well, but the second something starts to go wrong - I'm out of there.
Case in point - in the photo above you can see the verdant leaves of my two recently acquired black Helebore plants.
I'm starting out with this Blog, and I'm sure some people are stopping by to say Hi, or to check out the guy who posted a comment on their Blog, and thinking "Great, another wanna-blessed-be with two posts and then nothing!" I just want to take the opportunity to say no, that's not the case, I just happen to have come back to Blogging about Witchcraft at the absolute nexus of a huge clusterfuck in my life right now, so it may take me a little longer to get back to the whole regular posting thing.
I did, however, want to offer a little taste of what's coming up for me over the next couple of months, and what I'll be endeavouring to share here during that time.
As Spring is rapidly sprung across the land and
Stepford barrels head-long into the season with domestic plants and sidewalk
weeds alike bursting into flower, I am starting to take stock of my own garden
which I have neglected over winter.
The truth of the matter is
while I aspire to be a gardener, I have essentially a black-thumb, and I have
almost a second side of me that is compelled to murder plants, usually through
neglect.