Category: PermieWitch

Six Years of Sustainable Growth: A Witch’s Journey

Posted on by runa
The sunrising on Villa Westwyk in the summer of 2025.

It’s high food-planting season. Over on Bluesky I’ve posted about the things we’re doing each day #OnTheCovenstead to live in concert with the Land. Part of that is growing our own food – obtaining a yield, as us permaculturists like to say. At the end of the farm-work day I’ll record what was done. I’ve been sharing the highlights – like I said on Bluesky (are we following each other?) – as the work to grow as much food as we can – for us, for our kindred, and for the community* – reaches a fevered pitch.

And then someone asked for photos of what I was talking about (thanks Pamelia!). This took me down such a long road to be able to snap some photos and share. It also had me thinking about sustainability, because, well, as a practicing permaculturalist Witch, I’m constantly thinking about that. Looking to snap some current photos, then had me looking at where we’ve been on this property. It’s been six years since we had a half-crocked idea to take two acres of abused land and create a covenstead that was ecologically sustainable for a magical life. 

I’ve blogged before about my love of small, slow solutions, a tenet of permaculture, because it allows you to make mistakes, adjust along the way, learn from those lessons, and create something stronger moving forward. The systems needed to mimic nature in order to live as a human being can be intense. Everything from composting, planting food forests, and rainwater harvesting takes time. A forest doesn’t shoot up overnight. Neither does a covenstead. Gradual lets you incrementally act in a manageable form. 

Let me lay it out in picture form – here’s where we started:

This shows the view from the north of our back patio along the eastern edge of our cottage. The former owners had shoved 18 boxwood bushes into this space and slugged a huge amount of glyphosate-based herbicides everywhere. If these were Oregon Boxwood, I would have repurposed them somewhere special on the property. But most began to die off even as I moved them to provide shelter for our poultry. In the background you can see the weather beaten cold frame that was here when we moved in. We used it until it was absolutely unsafe; but the beds remain and are now our root garden.
Looking north (the opposite view from above). This is the back of our small cottage in summer 2021 – a year in. This is where we would install a cover over the patio (the measurement plumb line you see in the photo above), the tomato tunnel, and the greenhouse. Future plans include a small geo dome in between the polytunnel and the greenhouse to host our hot tub and tropical plants year round.

We installed the polytunnel in the fall of 2023. The photo below is Spring of 2024. Small, slow solutions in action.

Above you see us mid-cardboard applying. Done so to block vegetation, and at this point it looks very unorganized and messy. We inherited the four troughs in the corners as they were put down during installation to help anchor the tunnel to the ground. Winters here bring hurricane-speed wind gusts blowing off the Pacific Ocean (we’re six miles as the crows flies to the beach).
High growing season 2025. Tomatoes anyone?
The small greenhouse was built in the fall of 2024 (buy things on clearance, friends).

Investing in the infrastructure of a new poly tunnel to replace the dilapidated one that was here when we moved into Villa Westwyk, took a bit of small-scale steps. Same with the greenhouse. Bit by bit we took planned and intentionally thought-out actions in order to reduce adding too much at once, and minimizing risk. Like Jessi Bloom wrote in “Practical Permaculture” it’s easier to fail spending $100 versus $1000.  If I’d planted all the trees I planted to today’s count (17), there’s a good chance I would have put them in the wrong place. It’s taken me some time to observe & interact with the environment here. As a witch, I also needed to get to know the Land and its needs, strengths, and where it needed extra special attention towards energetic things. Notably, this often leads to understanding the physical needs of the Land as well. Like, there is no way in heck there will ever be anything that grows in the southeast corner here. Why? Well, I had to learn that. (It’s keeping something else out – story for another blog post.)

Heck, do you know where the prevailing wind is where you live? Does it change seasonally? Which direction does your front door face? All of these things factor into how you implement affordable, scalable projects to live with the Land as much as possible. 

The same is true for our spiritual lives. As a Witch you cultivate power over time. Small repeated acts, lighting a candle daily, keeping a lunar magic calendar, or an intention journal, build a deeper connection than dramatic, infrequent rituals. Burning your magical candle at both ends does nothing but lead to burnout (why readers like myself take energetic cleansing seriously). A Witch cannot expect instant manifestations until you can feel the subtle shifts of energy. 

One of the key strengths of small slow solutions is their adaptability – whether it’s practicing the Craft or designing the landscape of the environment around you with generations to come in mind. As a Witch I aim to be a good ancestor. As a permaculturist I aim to provide for my great-great-great grandchildren. This led my thoughts to noting where this simple question of “Pictures?” how both as a Witch and a permaculturist, there is a harm-reduction mindset. Small, slow solutions make sure you have the space and time and energy to do things as kindly and considerately as possible. 

Incremental changes allow for continuous observation and adjustment. If a system fails or a spell underperforms, the consequences are limited, and lessons can be applied immediately. This iterative process builds a resilient system capable of responding to environmental, economic, social, or energetic changes. You don’t buy a ready-made altar, you curate it over time. A slowly built one becomes a living system, not just a collection of items. 

The greenhouse. April 2026. Full of overwinter plants and seed starts.

Small, slow solutions align closely with natural rhythms: the seasons, moon phases, plant growth. A Practice grounded in these cycles becomes more sustainable and intuitive, I’ve found and each year as I practice this becomes more and more concrete that magic and permaculture go together. A slower approach to your Craft creates space for reflection, which mirrors the interacting part of the permaculture tenet of observe & interact. I’m constantly asking myself why I want to do a spell? What are the potential outcomes (and dare I say consequences)? Is there a simpler or more aligned way to move forward? Like sometimes just having a conversation with someone is a whole lot faster than a cord-cutting spell. 

Villa Westwyk’s polytunnel (aka the Tomato Tunnel) as seen in April 2026.

Patience, observations, and intentional design are held up by small, slow solutions. Creating a garden or a magical practice that grows and adapts over time, creates a practical and resilient path forward. Magic is alive; just like the Land here at Villa Westwyk. Witchcraft is an ecosystem; not a transaction. The subtle shift in perspective can be very profound. It also opens the door for a Practice that fits into daily life. 

I’m not the same Witch I was six years ago. As the Land evolved, so did my Practice. Today my magic is deeper, I’m more skilled, and my intuition has never been stronger. 

Here’s to an abundant growing season – for both the Land & our Practice(s)!

Looking north along the east end of our cottage. The polytunnel and the greenhouse with its various plant starts all around, which include pine trees, strawberries, herbs, currant and berry bushes, and a few fruit trees.

* (I’m dropping off another 9 dozen eggs to the food bank this week). 

Getting Stung To Day Dream

Posted on by runa

Unraveling the Messages from the Universe

This week, I was stung by an unidentified flying insect. I wasn’t tromping through the land, or harvesting late, or weeding. I was just sitting having an evening snack and drink with kindred.  From the description of those who witnessed the attack, it was as tiny barely a fingernail width, colored mainly black with a pointed lower abdomen and a narrow waist called a petiole. That description matches a western honey bee, that accidentally flew into my elbow and felt I was attacking it. The jury is still out as to what it was that stung me, but it certainly got my attention.

At the moment that it happened, I felt like I was in a weird dream state. Things were so pleasant and then in an instant they were not. For days, my elbow looked like it was missing because of the swelling and hives. I’ll live, and I’m much better. But the discomfort lasts all week. As I treated my sting site, I recalled the weird dream state that happened in the previous years as well. My body and my energy were on high alert, which often brings in my witchy brain asap. This was worth noting and would lead me down an interesting daydreaming path. Like the wasp sting awakened this creative, intuitive, meditative channel of communication between myself and the Universe.

Each year that I have lived here at Villa Westwyk I have been stung. I don’t have an anaphylactic response, but I always get swelling, pain, hives, fatigue, and in some instances, it triggers an asthma attack. To be fair, as a Witch who works closely with the Land, it is a hazard of the job. Because I apply permaculture principles to my Witchcraft practice, I noticed that behavior, as one of its key tenets is to observe and interact. Well, I’m watching me get stung once a year, every year since residing here. And I think I know what’s happening.

Each incident has involved a different flying wasp or bee each time. The first was a bald-faced hornet. They look like the mean thing they are. They are black and white with an almost skeletal appearance. They can be super aggressive. Their sting is very painful. Being stung by a bald-faced hornet was one of the worst stings I’ve experienced, partly because the bugger hit me more than once. I was weeding a section of Land that had been crying out for healing – removing invasive species – and I must have disturbed a nest. I did not return to that section of Land until the following season. The attack site – my wrist and put me on my ass for a few days with my allergic response. It hurt so badly, I had to ice the sting site like once an hour when awake. Sleeping was hard because it just throbbed, burned, ached, and itched incessantly and restfulness was nearly impossible. I did compresses, tinctures, teas, and all kinds of anti-inflammatory treatments. I give bald-faced hornets a wide berth still today. 

The second growing season here I was stung by a bumblebee. That one hurt my feelings the most. I love the chonky bumblebees as they bungee jump from lavender stem to lavender stem. The physical recovery from that was not too bad, and the result was the setting of the rule that all harvesting has to be done before bee hour (around 10 a.m.). But it still wasn’t a cakewalk. Again, I was super sensitive the rest of the season when one of those very loud bumbles bobbed into view. I would immediately leave the area if one was about. I didn’t scream or cry or make a scene. Just a quick about-face away from wherever it was grazing.

Last year the sting came from the asshole of pollinators – the yellowjacket. Yes, yellowjackets are accidental pollinators as they fly from spot to spot in the garden eating the insects you hate to have in your garden like caterpillars and harmful flies. Yellow jackets eat a lot of the insects that like to harm fruit trees, so I want to give them a chance. But even so, they can be triggered to sting quickly, thereby achieving its asshole pollinator label. Yes, yes, even as an animist there are energies in this world I cannot abide. The yellow jacket has been on that list my entire life. Growing up we called yellow jackets sweat bees because they were always about when you were sweating outside in the heat. However, true sweat bees don’t sting and are sometimes called fairy wasps. But, the yellow jacket? Their sting has an intense pain level. 

In the summer of 2023, the whole of the covenstead was infested with yellow jackets. Mr. Troy was stung several times as he played pest control serviceman to root out the massive hive under one of the pine trees not too far from our house. One of our dogs is deathly allergic to insect venom, having been hospitalized early in her life from a bee sting. Yellow jackets, like bald-faced hornets, can sting multiple times and they run in packs. Eradicating such sneaky hives is therefore a must. But not before those little assholes left their mark on both the humans living here. The lesson there was to pay attention more carefully to spaces the yellow jackets are drawn to and to design our landscaping in a manner that helps assist their natural predators – mainly birds like the Western tanagers. We have also heavily planted repelling plants all around the house especially. Plants like lavender, mint, lemongrass, marigolds, and thyme are ones that yellowjackets avoid. Next year we’ll be setting up a predatory pitcher plant bed to also help curb not only the yellowjackets but biting flies. When using our space during wasp season, we keep the yellow jackets occupied with a small offering of ripe watermelon or sliced cucumber placed in a different area from where you’re enjoying the outdoors. Their attention will be on the offering and not on your BBQ chicken and salad.

It’s clearly a trend these annual stings I’m receiving. I can’t help but think this is some kind of message from the Land, the Universe, my beloved dead, Spirit, or all of them. Four years, four stings. Like a fire drill for my spiritual life. I feel like the Universe is grabbing me by the elbow and trying to get my attention. Each incident has made me slow down, prioritize self-care, and remember that life isn’t all about work. After this latest wasp sting, I knew there was so much more to what was going on. Enter my dreamwork practice to the rescue. Dream messages don’t just come at night, Witches. They can come whenever we can switch our brain into that space of receiving messages. Given that understanding, what do these wasp stings annually mean?

In my Dreamwork, wasps, especially, denote social connections – family, friends, coworkers, and even the collective community. Have you seen how wasps work together? Even solitary wasps use other flora and fauna to survive. Looking at where I was stung to lends other clues. The wrist, the shoulder, my neck, and my elbow. The wrist may denote flexibility, adaptability, and certainly connection. But it’s also a super vulnerable part of our anatomy. Raise your hand if you have carpal tunnel, or if the worst part of doing planks is the pain in your wrists. 

The shoulder much like the wrist connects the arm to the body. It also may represent responsibilities ala “carrying the world on her shoulders.” It can symbolize comfort or support. And shoulder can also be about pushing forward – think a football player – or not giving in on the sidewalk to people who don’t move to provide egress. Whereas signs or dream elements that incorporate the neck can mean there’s a throat chakra issue, or an ancestral wound involving the neck (if you know anything about the Witch wound, this is not surprising). Again, the neck connects the head and body and some of the most critical nerves and circulatory systems members are in the neck. It’s the thoroughfare of life in your body.

The elbow is the motivator of hard work when we look at its potential symbolism. Give it some elbow grease, or you must elbow your way to the top – it gives that kind of vibes. It is also a connector between the upper arm and the lower arm. An insect sting on the elbow as a message in dreams or a sign from the Universe tells me that prioritizing pointed connections. An insect sting on my neck says to prioritize critical connections. The responsibility of right relationship is mine to shoulder. And it is critical that I do so in a vulnerable way. 

It might take me a few years to get the message – noted. I’m pretty sure I got it and what I have to do next – besides all the physical mitigation noted above. It’s time for me to spend some time being capricious and pensive. To observe if my connections, my relationships, and my community may need some pointed ‘medicine.’ Perhaps I need to work harder at these connections and take responsibility for where I am not doing so. 

I certainly know that I’m not waiting for next summer for another sting to get to work on these nudges from Divine.

Preparing Animals for Winter While Writing A Book

Posted on by runa
This is what we’re working towards here at Villa Westwyk. Right now it’s a dream and in a box in the big barn.

Our weather station here at Villa Westwyk measured a balmy 82 degrees F on October 14. Two days later we got our first frost and we haven’t seen anything above 50 degrees in weeks. The Average temperature for the last month is 38 degrees. The last two winters we did not see freezing temperatures until on or near the Winter Solstice. Sure technically, winter isn’t here until the Winter Solstice, but we’re certainly feeling it already. We weren’t quite ready for winter here. That can be a problem for a Permie Witch. 

We had plans to set up a poly tunnel to enclose our laying chickens in their tractor coop, but that hasn’t happened yet and this morning it was 22 degrees. When the rains return the temps will be warmer, but chickens aren’t fans of the rain like the ducks and geese are. So the tunnel gives them a respite from the rain as well and lets them get more exercise, otherwise they are prone to just sit in the coop all day, which means I have to muck it more often. Also in the polytunnel we can do a deep litter method and get all that good composted material come spring for putting on our raspberries, blueberries, black currant bushes, and more. Material management is part of so much of what I do as a Permie Witch, to include “making” it like with the deep-litter method during winter with my poultry. 

And since we’ve just gotten the freezing temperatures and there’s been no rainfall, our seasonal streams and ponds that help support our ducks and geese are bone dry. I caught them just sitting in the river bed waiting for the water. It was so pitiful. No running steam means the Permie Witch has to go out extra and make sure the water fowl have extra water. When they can’t bathe because pools and troughs just freeze, they drink even more water. Having extra barn chores is not where I want to be since I’m under contract to write a book right now. Even though I know those outdoor breaks are good for a writer who spends so much time sitting at a desk.

But here’s the thing, the animals are prepared. It’s the Witch who is not. The animals already have systems in place to set themselves up for winter success. The ducks and chickens have slowed their egg laying to conserve daily energy. They’re plumped up cold-weather feathers that arrived shortly after the Autumn equinox are doing the job of keeping them well insulated. The geese are so hardy, they will likely laugh at us (honk-honk) when we do get around to setting up that poly tunnel. Lastly, we’ve culled the number of geese we have so their winter home is more spacious, but are happy to lay beneath the arbor or against the barn. 

My chickens don’t need a heat lamp. They don’t need to be closed up air-tight (yikes! That’s like asking for illness!). I’m sure they would love to have the polytunnel just to get out of the rain (or snow), but it’s not necessary. Trees and bushes around the property do that for them as well. 

Even when the weather is inclement, my animal partners on this covenstead do what they need to do to survive and even thrive. No Permie Witch required. 

I’ll continue to improve systems and infrastructure to make sure my livestock have only one bad day in their life, including through winter. But I don’t need to pressure myself about this project or that project, since small, slow solutions and nature’s ability to survive do a lot of that work for me. So now I can work on getting the Witch ready for winter, which is mostly all about shifting my perspective. I’ve got a book to write. Pond creation and polytunnel construction can wait until the sun is higher in the sky and we’re not having to put on snow suits just to feed and water the animals. Oh, and the word count reaches 60,000 words. 😉

Putting The Permie Witch Garden To Bed

Posted on by runa
Originally this was going on IG, so the orientation was weird. Thank you for your forgiveness.

One of my Patrons asked me about putting my garden to bed as a Permie Witch. It looks a bit different than what perhaps a Master Gardener from your local Ag extension might do. I’m still trying to grow things all winter, whether that’s garlic, winter greens, over-wintering root veggies, or just feeding the soil.

Watch the above video and you’ll see lots of weeds and plants left to die off naturally and spread its seed (cilantro, I’m looking at you). But all this vegetation provides a network for the mushrooms, which create a healthy soil system, as well as is a bio and dynamic accumulator which feeds the soil in other ways.

Villa Westwyk, my covenstead, is in the Pacific Northwest. As I walk this path and do so from the perspective of a Crone Witch, I’ve learned that the chaos in nature is actually full of the primal fire of creation. And in permaculture you’re mimicking the chaos of nature. Like the more rigid gardening that one may find landscapers doing, I’m still moving materials. I’m covering soil to prevent erosion, and laying compost over plants I hope to tend throughout winter and into early spring, and I’m pulling weeds (where necessary).

One day this space may look more master garden-esque because all the systems to support it will be in place. But, that permaculture tenet of #SmallSlowSolutions comes into play here. This space was already used as a garden by the prior owners of this property. Although it had gone fallow, we knew that a garden could grow there, and until we could determine where at Villa Westwyk we would prefer to grow food (raised beds and poly tunnels, hello!), we could start here. After three years of growing food in this space, we’ve determined that half the space needs to be a pond for water management and livestock quality of life. If we had built raised beds or other infrastructure just to turn it into a pond, how much labor and resources would have been potentially wasted because we didn’t use the other principles of permaculture to our planning, especially #ObserveAndInteract, #UseAndValueRenewables, and #DesignFromPatternToDetails? The answer is: Too Much! Instead we are now preparing the ground for pond construction – coming soon!

There was broken glass, weeds, trash, and just a whole lot of negative energy here when we moved it. I think it looks fabulous now.

Moving from the garden to our cold frame/hot house/season extender, which again was in a wild state as I will continue to grow food in this space all winter long. As of this writing, I’m still harvesting tomatoes and peppers inside that space. Again, this structure was here when we moved in and was full of pig weed and thistle. We renovated it and reinforced the structure where we could, but it’s not far from its usefulness and we do have plans to turn this into a chicken coop/yard space. A larger poly tunnel will be placed elsewhere on the property, potential near our new raspberry beds. But we’re not there yet. A good poly tunnel is a huge investment. In the interim, we will continue using this space until its absolutely not safe. But right now, can’t you see how the marigolds are thrilled? We also learned more things about growing cucumbers in a poly tunnel and that squash really don’t like it. #SelfRegulation #AcceptFeedback #ObtainAYield

So that’s what’s happening for the Permie Witch this month. I’m prepping to grow where I can, moving materials, and covering vegetation to make pond making easier as we get closer to breaking ground on that project. If you have any questions about the above, please feel free to ask me in the comments below. Have a great November!

Planning Your Witches Thanksgiving

Posted on by runa
Wishes for a Festive Mabon from my home to yours

Witches Thanksgiving is coming. Also known as Mabon (MAY-bn), or the Autumn Equinox. It is the second harvest. It’s a big one, too, for those living close to the land and growing food. Although I can harvest a little bit every day beginning about the full moon after the vernal equinox, each harvest sabbath (Lughnasah, Mabon, and Samhain) simply means new crops are coming in at each harvest. The first harvest is typically grain and berries. The second harvest is fruit and corn. And the third harvest is everything else, including squash (jack o’lantern pumpkins!), tomatoes, peppers, culling of the herds, etc. 

If you’re wanting to have a gathering of your Witch sisters and brothers, this is a wonderful time to do so. So much food is in season. And the weather, at least here in the Pacific Northwest, is still nice enough to gather around a fire circle outside. 

Most gathering of witches means potluck of some sort. There’s always the witch that will bring the wine and party favors, another who’s got the sweet treats covered, and another who brings the appetizers. If you’re hosting, the entree will fall to you, along with one or two sides or a salad, as well as making sure your space is welcoming. Maybe some post-meal concoction to sip by the fire whilst you tell stories of your year thus far. You decide how much you take on. Just don’t take on too much, please. Hosts as well as guests should be enjoying themselves. This is a celebration of our gratitude. Our connections are likely at the top of that giving-thanks list. Roast the stuffed turkey, but let everyone else do the rest. However, if you just love creating wonderful food for friends and family, do what you think you can handle without stressing. 

Other things to make your Witches Thanksgiving festive are doing things like gourd candles (maybe make enough to allow your guests to take one home), corn dollies, or having the activity of making a scarecrow for the pumpkin patch or front gate, or pressing apples and pears into cider (as might be the case here at Villa Westwyk). Maybe one of your guests would like to do some divination for everyone for the season ahead. Or maybe you watch the new Halloween flick that was just released. Take your inspiration from the landscape around you, the energy of the group, and go forth and have lots of Witchy Fun. 

Today I put together a Mabon menu to hopefully inspire, instruct, and initiate you into this upcoming season. Inspired by what’s growing here at Villa Westwyk or available nearby (e.g. sablefish), each category should have you covered no matter which part of the potluck you want to cover. As well, there’s a fire circle ritual to help you welcome in Autumn and prepare yourselves for winter. 

First you need to set the mood: and that’s certainly good fun. Decorate your space. Many of my seasonal decorations are actually wards. (More on that here on the blog soon!) Refresh your altar for autumn. If you have a fire circle where you’ll be hosting the ritual, make sure there’s enough seating and table space for everyone. Make sure there’s blankets for everyone to stay comfortable. Again, if you’re hosting, ask your guests where they may like to help. A good guest will ask, as well.  

The menu below is by no means the only menu for your Witches Thanksgiving. Again, take your inspiration from what is available to you and your kindred. This is just what will be on the menu at Villa Westwyk this year. Be sure you understand any food preferences and allergies from your guests before using this menu or creating your own. 

Please note to access the links of these recipes, you’re going to need a passcode. It’s easy:  Mabon2022

Villa Westwyk Mabon Menu:

Grilled Sunflower Head with Chimichurri sauce

Welcome Autumn Punch

Cream of Wild Mushroom Soup

Fall Harvest Salad

Grilled Sablefish collars with garlic confit

Elote Corn on the Cob

Herb buttered grilled Winter Squash Rings

Chocolate Zucchini Bread with Whipped Cream and Brandied Cherry sauce

The Ritual

Gratitude is at the center of Thanksgiving. So the ritual is focused on that. And it’s focused on the fire element, which is necessary to help us survive the upcoming winter season.

Here’s what you’ll need for this activity:

A spot to gather around a fire

Candles or torches that mark the four directions

Small slips of paper and pens or pencils for each guest

A small altar with Autumnal decor

Cleansing herbs (rosemary, sage, mugwort, lavender, etc. – you choose your adventure here)

If you don’t have a fire pit available to you, feel free to gather around a table with a centerpiece of lots of candles. Plan on one candle representing each guest, so 7 guests = 7 candles. And please, for Freyja’s sake, please follow candle safety. You’ll also need a fire-proof container (cauldron).

 

This is a very casual ritual and more about pulling out the recognition of all the abundance in our lives – there’s more than you think. Doing this little exercise, if you’d prefer that word over ritual, helps you and your guests ground down in gratitude around the fire. I set up the tiki torches around the fire circle to mark the four directions ahead of time. If your tradition calls for casting a circle, feel free to do that. But it’s not necessary for this. 

There’s a small altar, mostly hosting all the symbols of Autumn: squash, apples, colored leaves, anything that makes it festive for you. Perhaps offerings for the land spirits or your particular deities. For me it’s offerings to Skaði, the goddess of the Hunt (an autumn activity) and Winter and Tyr, the sky god. Appropriate because of the planetary movement of the equinox. As always, you do you, Witch. 

Remember, a table with candles and cauldron works, too!

In the center is the fire pit, which I’m sure the Viking will have made larger than necessary. Before going around the circle (sunwise, aka clockwise) some cleansing herbs are added to the fire. The host may do this, or everyone can take a little bit of the herbs and toss them into the fire. Again, candles and a cauldron around a patio table works well, too.  Our warm, rainless summers these last 5 years or so here in the PNW means fire rituals often are simply tabletop affairs as fire bans for safety are necessary. All good. This is an opportunity for the host to thank their guests and invite them to consider what they are grateful for. To help your guests get in the mindset of expressing their gratitude, you may ask them to consider three things they are thankful for at Mabon. 

Often I’ll ask them to consider their journey since last Autumn to highlight what abundance and blessings they’ve encountered, especially where their personal growth is concerned. What personal quality are you thankful for? What non-human thing are you thankful for? What other person are you thankful for? As the MC, really ask them to explore the why. Why are you grateful for your work ethic, for instance? “Well, Runa, it helped me finish X project before the equinox…” This is a conversation, to a degree. And a time of reflection. As one guest speaks to their gratitude, the others are invited to fire scry or just meditate on the flames. 

After the gratitude expressions are complete, this is when your guests will put the one thing they want to leave behind as this new season begins. Starting clockwise again, have the person approach the fire (carefully) and toss their completed release note into the flame, saying “I release what does not serve me.” They do not have to say what the thing is that they are releasing. That is between them, the fire and, if appropriate, their gods. If one of your Witch guests wants to announce what they are releasing, that is fine, too. 

End the ritual officially by offering blessings to your guests and again your gratitude for them in your life, for their contributions to the circle, etc. Close your circle here, if you so choose. 

Afterwards, it is a great time to pull out a nightcap of some sort. This can be anything like some hot tea and honey, maybe hot cocoa, or here on our covenstead, it will likely be some Cassis (black currant liqueur) or apple cider that we brewed. Then simply hangout by the fire and visit with your kindred. Make plans for a winter gathering now during this conversation, if you like. Play guitar or ukulele. Sing acapella. Laugh. Connect. 

Be sure to extinguish all flames before leaving the area. Practice good candle and fire safety. Because Samhain is coming and we want to be able to celebrate the Witches New Year together, too. Stay tuned as I’ll be offering the same kind of post for that Witches Sabbat as well. 

How do you celebrate Mabon the Witches Thanksgiving? What of the above might you adopt for your celebration? 

Spider Season Witchcraft

Posted on by runa

Keeping Arachnids at Bay on the Covenstead

CW: Spiders

It’s September in the Pacific Northwest, or Spider Season as it’s more locally known. Literally spiders show up everywhere. Now, we’re not as bad as some places in Australia, but funnels, webs, and strings of baby spiders in flight are everywhere. Sunrise & Sunset chores here on the covenstead if viewed from the outside looking in, appears as if we’re practicing some unknown form of martial arts as we try to avoid and untangle ourselves from the ever-present webs. Do not leave the house without a hat right now.

Keeping critters off our temporary clothesline is easy with this Witch’s Brew!

As we live closer to the land here, the prevalence of creepy crawlies is a bit higher. So how do we keep our sanctuary, our home, from being infested? Witchcraft to the rescue! Specifically herbalism and the principles of Permaculture.

Like many Witches, I try my best to live in harmony with all the creatures. Spiders found inside the house here at Villa Westwyk, are escorted outside, unless they show up at the base of the toilet at 0333 hrs when The Viking is half asleep, or if they scurry down one of their seemingly invisible threads while I’m in the shower. A Crone has to have some boundaries! But this happens rarely, even in the PNW Spider Season, because I have a secret weapon: bay.

Bay leaves, bay oil, and even a properly placed bay tree helps keep the spiders at bay, along with a few other pesky insects we don’t want in our homes. Also, I welcome them in my pastures, gardens, and green house. Heck, two of them have my house looking like I already decorated for Halloween. But inside, and certain places outdoors, like my clothesline, potting shed, and barn walkways, are off limits. They are welcome anywhere else.

Granted, doing your weekly cobweb dust in the house does do wonders to make spiders feel your private abode is inhospitable. But there will always be spiders about, even in the cleanest and protected homes and cars. Spiders do good work getting rid of other even more annoying bugs like flies, beetles, and even other spiders. But I prefer that my carnivorous plants (venus fly trap, etc.) do that job, which I highly recommend. If you’re in Western Washington, you may source them from Predatory Perennials.

For more than a decade, I’ve been relying on natural insect repellents and plantings. (I’ll do another blog post down the road on why certain plants on the covenstead are where they are.) Bay oil is my go-to primary in this regard. It is an essential oil of Bay, made from those same little leaves you put in your stews and such, Laurus Nobilis, or Sweet Bay as it’s known, can be like an invisible fence to spiders, and often ants, too. I spray it on my outdoor clothes line, which always seems to attract the little arachnids. But under the full moon in August and September, I repeat this ritual to help keep the spiders at bay (haha, pun intended). When we lived on our sailboat, this happened monthly because spiders just LOVE sailboats. They seem to love RVs, as well. So this little recipe and full moon working has come in handy, a lot. I can tell you that it works. I’m sharing it here in case you just might want to add it to your witchy repertoire, regardless if you’re in the PNW or not.

Now before we get to the recipe, allow me to let you know that it’s important that whatever you’re putting on this may react poorly to it. For that reason, be sure to test a small, inconspicuous spot before you apply this spray to any material. I’ve not had any problems, but I also don’t spray it directly on anything, but rather via a micro cloth that absorbs the concoction. But I’m also mostly putting this on natural materials Additionally, I talk to the spirits of the land, or specifically to spiders, in this case, and tell them why I need them to respect this space. And I offer them alternative areas, where I think they will have a bit of sun, a bit of shade, and lots of good hunting (hint hint: anywhere but here).

Escorting an evictee to the garden

Yes, my neighbors have caught me talking to the spiders. I normally have my polarized shades on and my big straw hat and pay them no mind. But this talking is important because I have livestock, which can really draw flies if you are not practicing regenerative agriculture. But because I don’t shoo down the Orb Weaver’s giant web between the tree and the fence, but rather walk around it, I think the spiders are really doing their job to help keep the flies down to what anyone without 9 geese, 10 chickens, and 11 ducks would experience in their homes. I am sure to mention that to them, how much I appreciate their work. It is important! Also, I noted that many a yellow jacket were in their webs, too. And that’s a bonus as well, especially since the long, cool summer diminished the number of praying mantis that hatched around the covenstead. In short, you need to establish an energetic exchange with these critters. CoExist, baby. I am very careful of my language here, as with any Craft working. For me, I imagine I’m talking to the children of Loki when addressing the spiders. If you want to be clear, be sure to write down what you’re asking first to check yourself before moving forward. Like with the Good Neighbors I avoid apologies or expressions of debt or gratitude (sorry, thank you, no bueno). But the bottom line is that all the creatures that reside here at Villa Westwyk see the work that The Viking and I are doing. They attach their webs to the trees we’ve planted. They revel in the scent of the flowers and bushes we are planting. They see the care with which we raise our livestock. That positive energy extends throughout our four fences.

Lastly, if you cannot get your hands on bay oil, a part of this ritual includes bay leaves, which are helpful, too. However, you can substitute or combine any of the following oils: lemon verbena, lemon essential oil, lemongrass (you get the picture that spiders hate lemon, eh?), peppermint, citronella, or tea tree. But bay just kicks the most spidery butts here.

There are few poisonous spiders here in Western Washington. If you live in an area that has more dangerous varieties of arachnids, please be cautious with this witchy rite. Understand what you’re up against, before you take the time to spray this brew about your home. Also I make no claim how this works against scorpions, but if you try, it, I’d be interested in your results! Comments make my day.

Spider Season Lodgers 2022

Alright, here’s how to make the spray:

Spider Season Spray

Equipment:

Spray bottle (a brown glass one is best, but as you can see from my photo, whatever you have available works!)

Ingredients:

40 drops of essential oil of bay

4 ounces of distilled water

4 ounces of 190-proof alcohol

1 tablespoon white vinegar

Instructions:

Mix the oil, water, alcohol, and vinegar into the bottle. Close tightly and shake to mix.

Typical Use: Spray on a micro cloth and wipe on areas you want to deter spiders.

Tip: when you wipe down the inside of drawers, cabinets or closets with this, it helps make those areas smell so good!

CoExist With Spiders Ritual:

Equipment:

Spider Season Spray

Microcloth

A handful of bay leaves crushed

A broom if you need to sweep away actual cobwebs

Instructions:

I choose to do this on the full moon in August and September, as the relationship between myself and the spiders is heightened. But honestly, you could do it any time. Because I do this annually, these lunations in the late summer help me come back to this over and over again. As I mentioned, it’ makes sense to do this now in this space because it’s Spider Season. Witches in the Southern Hemisphere might find this more helpful on the full moons in February and March.

  1. The day before the ritual, I give “notice” to the Spider and the general spirits of the land. I tell them how certain spaces (as mentioned above) need to be free of intrusion, and a space is waiting for them in the (pick your spot). Also, test your inconspicuous spot.
  2. On the day, first ground and center yourself. Then clean and declutter any area you want to spray this herbal ward. As you clean – especially if you’re going to be dispatching webs and egg sacs – repeat your reasoning for this working and remember to be careful with your language. Example: “Spiders, spiders Here and there, Do not fret But you can bet There’s better parts You should depart To spin your place Beyond this (sacred) space.” I often will carry a spider to a more desired location. I know this can be tough for some, but find yourself a Green Witch, perhaps that can help you with this part if it’s difficult for you.
  3. Then moisten your cloth and wipe down the areas (after you’ve tested thoroughly) e.g. your front entry way. Be sure that you are not stingy, but that it is well “oiled” in the area.
  4. If you are creating a spider-free zone in an entry way, take your crushed bay leaves and sprinkle them in front of the threshold. Feel free to repeat your request and offer of place beyond this sacred space. (Note: you will find whole bay leaves in every cupboard and drawer that I have. Guess what gets replaced each late summer in my kitchen? Yep. Those bay leaves.)
  5. Repeat at the next full moon.

I hope you have found this helpful. If you decide to actually make a ritual of it as described above, please let me know how it goes for you. As with everything in the craft: your mileage may vary. I am simply sharing my experience and knowledge.

Flipping Off The System

Posted on by runa

A Lesson in Onions & Worth

The 12 Tenets of Permaculture

In the last week or so I’ve harvested enough onions and garlic to use in our meals for months and months.  The red onion harvest alone should keep us in red onions for nine months. I look at these harvests as a big screw-you to the horrendous systems we have created on this planet. Growing my own food has been a constant rebellion for me against Earth-damaging capitalism. It also is a double fisted flip-off to the patriarchy, which continues to try to keep women from an autonomous existence or doing the things that bring us joy. Yes, friends, growing your own food is a big fuck you to the establishment. 

However, I’m also finding that some of the ways I have felt pressured to establish the worth of these efforts I’m ready to give the middle finger to as well. Over the years I have been growing food (more than 20), I’ve kept track in one way or another of our harvest totals. I say “our” harvest, but it’s mostly just this lone crone doing the #PermieWitch work around #VillaWestwyk. This spring, I found I was resisting the kinds of metrics found in pages of spreadsheets: how much lettuce did I just harvest? How many eggs has our flock produced for us? And what’s the break down between chickens, ducks, and geese? How much meat have I bartered for homemade sourdough bread? Blah, Blah, Blah! 

Part of my Onion Harvest

I know there’s abundance here. Who else do I need to prove it to? My spouse? Not even. I’m fortunate that my Writing Witch, Permie Witch, Green Witch, and the like are all fully supported by my partner. His father grew up on a farm. He knows how hard it is to grow food. Do I need to prove it to my community? This crone does not care if they think the 80 pounds of potatoes I grew last year (this year’s totals TBD) is a waste of my time. But being able to understand just how much I have produced is important. Of course I had to put my little rabble rousing ways on that, too. Let’s take a look at my Star System. No, we’re not talking astrology; however, my Taurus midheaven and North Node are all about Earth Healing.

For about a decade now I’ve referred to meals I’ve made containing ingredients from our gardens and pastures by a star count. Homegrown onions on the plate? One star. Freshly harvested potatoes on the plate? Another star. Greens from our hot house on the plate? You guessed it, another star. 

When this season it just gave me ZERO joy to worry about measuring, marking, and doing all that data work, I went back to the end result and the satisfaction that it brings. When I know or can share that there is at least one thing, if not many things on the plate for our meals that was grown or raised right here in this little 2-acre parcel – that, my friends, is just pure and utter delight and satisfaction. Consuming the stars on my plate – again one for each thing that is homegrown/made and ½ a star for those I bartered or procured from farming neighbors – is some of the regular joy and balance in my life. And again, as I’m fat and happy, I’m flipping off the establishment.

If you follow me on instagram, I regularly post photos of my meals and how many stars there are on our plates. Those metrics make me happy and smile. It tangibly shows the percentage of food I’m growing/raising is making an impact as opposed to data on a spreadsheet. For instance, breakfast this morning contained our eggs, zucchini, green beans, and chard. Four stars. Yum. 

Oftentimes, I verbally make note how much these items may have cost at our local market while eating this farm-to-table meal with my meal guests (in this COVID-19 World, that’s mostly The Viking). But then my Viking asked me how much the entire Onion harvest would cost us at the local farmer’s market. It took me a minute to do the arithmetic and I did have to do some measuring and whatnot, but the results were surprising. I conservatively estimated that my red onion harvest will shave approximately $130 off our grocery bill over the next six to nine months. Again, that’s conservative. If Whole Foods was selling it, it would probably be closer to $230. Ha! Plus I don’t have to worry about recalls because of listeria or any of that nonsense, which is worth even more money. I grow my veggies organically. They are fertilized with compost and seaweed tea. Pests are dealt with naturally (our slug and snail population has gone down so much, thank you ducks), in part due to our permaculture approach. That’s $130 in our savings and that’s not counting the sweet onions and garlic I harvested, too. 

I’ll take it. 

That simple question from my Aquarian hubby – who is so good at looking at situations from a different perspective – totally changed my perception about the work I’ve been doing. I started thinking about how so much of this late-stage capitalism is just fucking up our planet. How it devalues such cottage revenue as a vegetable garden or small-holding livestock. In short, there isn’t a societal value placed on the work that I do to feed my family and friends.  It’s looked at as a hobby. Whatever dude. Sweat your butt off in the summer trying to ensure a tomato harvest, or move your animals to higher ground during a flood event, or even just have a planter of strawberries on your patio, and talk to me about how it’s not valuable. 

However there is value. Part of that value is in the sustainability that we practice and are working hard to increase. And you can’t really put a price tag on that. Healing the Earth is priceless. Saving the planet one row of onions at a time is pretty fucking cool, though. 

This realization of value I recognized quickly fell within the Apply Self Regulation and Accept Feedback tenet of Permaculture (#SelfRegulate #AcceptFeedback). The lesson here came from myself first in that simple spreadsheet calculations were not bringing me joy. Is there food on our plate that we produced? Win. The other feedback came from The Viking. He saw the value in another way, not just the #ObtainAYield, another of the 12 tenets of Permaculture we’re applying to our lifestyle here at Villa Westwyk. That segues into the  Design From Patterns To Details tenet. Onions grow well here. They are low labor and work as pest control (#IntegrateDontSegregate) around my Brassicas. Surround your broccoli with onions. The pests will be way less. Also, when you cut an onion you grew yourself, the tears are worth it. 😉

A lot of the capitalist world may look at my daily life as less than, but I understand the Magic that is being created by focusing on healing the Earth (and meanwhile myself and my family – #EatYourselfWell) and working with her is more valuable than metrics and a paycheck. But, honestly, I am creating value and abundance, even if the patriarchy and capitalism can’t see it. I see it. Therefore, I’ll continue to rebel in my own way.

How about you? Are you growing food? Even herbs? Where can you increase your own food security? Please let me know in the comments below. 

I would like to acknowledge that Villa Westwyk resides on the ancestral homelands of the Coast Salish Peoples, who have lived in the Salish Sea basin, throughout the San Juan Islands and the North Cascades watershed, from time immemorial. I hold the deepest respect and gratitude for our Indigenous neighbors, the Lummi Nation and Nooksack Tribe, for their enduring care and protection of our shared lands and waterways.