My Little Pagan Life

(via https://open.spotify.com/artist/34z6EUM6vEY0azXbxgpbX6?si=uGzmRRmhTl_hUiHyZapAIQ)

THE TUESDAYS

The Tuesdays are an indie rock band from West Sussex, England.

Find their music on:

Spotify: The Tuesdays SoundCloud: thetuesdays YouTube: The Tuesdays Instagram: @ thetuesdaysofficial

Please take a minute to check out my partner’s band. It’d really mean a lot to us and I’m sure you’ll enjoy their music! 

Link to their Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/34z6EUM6vEY0azXbxgpbX6?si=CCw4iYprSXKrufIOBj_SBw

Link to their Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/user-881534710

YouTube: The Tuesdays

Thank you guys so much! All your support is massively appreciated.

Love,

50 Magical Uses for Roses

Roses are one of the most common flowers around. They are widely adored, gifted often and grown in many places.  If you’re anything like us - you might even have too much of them laying around. What to do with all these roses?

Bathe in them to encourage beauty

Carry them to attract love

Add them to a sleep sachet to promote sweet dreams

Make a rose massage bar to encourage love through touch

Make magical rose water

Candy the rose petals to give to a lover

Use them to honor the Goddess Aphrodite

Use them to honor the Goddess Isis

Let them rot in spells to break up couples

Use them to represent the planet Venus

Use them to honor the Virgin Mary

Use them as offerings to spirits of the dead

Use them to represent The Goddess

Use in a spell jar for attracting romance

Use their thorns to curse an ex-lover

Make rose oil

Use them to represent the 5 Wounds of Christ

Use them in dream pillows to cause romantic dreams

Uses yellow roses for spells involving friendship

Substitute them for any flower in a spell

Use them in spells for healing

Use them in glamour spells

Make a glamour-charged rosewater spray

Make magical perfume with their sweet fragrance

Preserve them in candles for love spells

Make a romance-attracting bath melt

Make a Sabbat Rose Garland

Make a Rose Petal Salve

Dry the Petals and make Flameless Rose Lights

Make Rose Potpourri

Use them in a Goddess Glamour bath

Make a love attracting rose and baby oil sugar scrub

Make a rose oil infusion for future spells

Make a charged rose lip balm to bring on kisses

Make a magical tea to encourage sexy times

Preserve them for the altar using borax

Use them in romance divination

Use the petals as altar confetti

Use them to honor Sappho

Burn them and use the ashes to break off ties with ex-lovers

Freeze them in ice bowls for seasonal spells

Apply them to the skin to wear on Sabbats

Use the petals as confetti for celebrations & Sabbats

Make a rose glamour shower steamer

Use the petals to cast circles

Make rose tinctures

Use the stems to make a Brigid’s Cross

Make a sabbat flower crown

Make a rose wreath for your front door to bring on relationships

lavender days

instead of jars to bury your spells in, my i suggest the idea of peat pots planters?

not only are they biodegradable, they are useful for many different things. you can grow herbs and starter plants or use them to bury a home protection without the fear of broken glass rising to the surface, or your jar staying in the ground for a 100 years. they also come in many different sizes as well. from large to very tiny

and you can even make your own from left over toilet paper rolls for a byproduct option that lessens garbage going into landfills.

🌺 Vernal (Spring) Equinox - new beginnings, love, hope, cleansing, fertility, motivation, inspiration

🌞 Summer Solstice - relationships, marriage, energy, power, abundance, beauty, sexual matters

🍁 Autumnal (Autumn/Fall) Equinox - endings, harvest, banishing, letting go, psychic power, divination

❄ Winter Solstice - new beginnings, family, celebrations, healing, peace, positivity 

Let me tell you what I know about this after living here for nearly thirty years.

This is a modern European country, the home of hot net startups, of Internet giants and (in some places, some very few places) the fastest broadband on Earth. People here live in this century, HARD.

Yet they get nervous about walking up that one hill close to their home after dark, because, you know… stuff happens there.

I know this because Peter and I live next to One Of Those Hills. There are people in our locality who wouldn’t go up our tiny country road on a dark night for love or money. What they make of us being so close to it for so long without harm coming to us, I have no idea. For all I know, it’s ascribed to us being writers (i.e. sort of bards) or mad folk (also in some kind of positive relationship with the Dangerous Side: don’t forget that the root word of “silly”, which used to be English for “crazy”, is the Old English _saelig_, “holy”…) or otherwise somehow weirdly exempt.

And you know what? I’m never going to ask. Because one does not discuss such things. Lest people from outside get the wrong idea about us, about normal modern Irish people living in normal modern Ireland.

You hear about this in whispers, though, in the pub, late at night, when all the tourists have gone to bed or gone away and no one but the locals are around. That hill. That curve in the road. That cold feeling you get in that one place. There is a deep understanding that there is something here older than us, that doesn’t care about us particularly, that (when we obtrude on it) is as willing to kick us in the slats as to let us pass by unmolested.

So you greet the magpies, singly or otherwise. You let stones in the middle of fields be. You apologize to the hawthorn bush when you’re pruning it. If you see something peculiar that cannot be otherwise explained, you are polite to it and pass onward about your business without further comment. And you don’t go on about it afterwards. Because it’s… unwise. Not that you personally know any examples of people who’ve screwed it up, of course. But you don’t meddle, and you learn when to look the other way, not to see, not to hear. Some things have just been here (for various values of “here” and various values of “been”) a lot longer than you have, and will be here still after you’re gone. That’s the way of it. When you hear the story about the idiots who for a prank chainsawed the centuries-old fairy tree a couple of counties over, you say – if asked by a neighbor – exactly what they’re probably thinking: “Poor fuckers. They’re doomed.” And if asked by anybody else you shake your head and say something anodyne about Kids These Days. (While thinking DOOMED all over again, because there are some particularly self-destructive ways to increase entropy.)

Meanwhile, in Iceland: the county council that carelessly knocked a known elf rock off a hillside when repairing a road has had to go dig the rock up from where it got buried during construction, because that road has had the most impossible damn stuff happen to it since that you ever heard of. Doubtless some nice person (maybe they’ll send out for the Priest of Thor or some such) will come along and do a little propitiatory sacrifice of some kind to the alfar, belatedly begging their pardon for the inconvenience.

They’re building the alfar a new temple, too.

Don’t go near big trees in the night

If you live on a farm, don’t look outside the windows at night

I have broken all these rules.

I’ve seen some shit.

If it sounds like your mom, but you didn’t realize your mom is home…. it’s not your mom. Promise.

One walked onto the porch once. Wasn’t fun. But they’re not super keen on guns. Typically bolt when they see one.

You think it’s the neighbor kids.

It’s not the neighbor kids.

Might sound like coyotes but you never really /see/ the coyotes but then wow that one cow was reaaaaaally fucked up this morning. The next night when you hear another one screaming you just turn the tv up a little more. Maybe fire a gun in the air but you don’t go after it. If it is coyotes then it’s probably a pack and you seriously don’t want to fuck with that and if it’s the other thing you seriously REALLY don’t want to fuck with that.

So in the south, especially near the mountains, you just go straight from your car to inside your house, draw your curtains and watch tv.

If you see lights in the fields just fucking leave it alone.

Eyes forward. Don’t be fucking stupid. Mind your own business. Call your neighbors and tell them to bring the cats in. There’s coyotes out. Some of them know. Most of them don’t.

Other than that everything’s a ghost and they died in the civil war. Literally all of everything else is just the civil war. We used to smell old perfume and pipe tobacco in the weeks leading up to the battle anniversaries.

We had ‘witches’ in the mountains (more like ghost-women who will snatch you up by making you wander in a daze around the forest like the Blair Witch before killing you or letting you back out into society but you’re… different). Or devils in springs or abandoned wells (don’t look too long into one or something will follow you). 

But we also had the cornfield demons. I’ve witnessed this many times. You’ll be in the passenger seat looking out the window and see red glowing eyes in the cornfield. No light shining in that direction. Just two red dots a few inches apart faintly glowing in a pitch black cornfield. They’re not the glow of deer eyes in the headlights. More like the embers of a dying fire. Sometimes, as you drive away, you’ll look out the back window or side mirror and you can see the eyes have moved to the edge of the corn field, still watching you. If you bring it up with the driver, they’ll call you paranoid, but grip the wheel a bit tighter and driver a little faster.

I just…yes. This. All of this. And then some.

You don’t have to understand it. You don’t have to believe in it.

William Wordsworth

Old hag by *veprikov