The Witch in the kitchen...

There is something inherently witchy about making bread. The act of measuring the ingredients, mixing, kneading. Because the art of bread making is so involved (unless of course you use a bread machine) there is plenty of opportunity to weave magic into your loaves, buns and rolls.

I make bread for a few reasons. Firstly, it is much cheaper than storebought bread. I can make two loaves of 100% whole wheat bread for less than $1 each. I'd pay more than $3 a loaf for a comparable product at the grocery store. Secondly, I know EXACTLY what is in each loaf. Organic whole wheat flour. Honey. Flax. Safflower oil. Third, the bread tastes better than anything I could buy. Even the expensive artisan bread doesn't compare to the bread that emerges from my oven. And lastly, the fact that depending on what my family (or recipient of the many gifts of bread I've given) needs at any given time, I can weave my magic into each bite. I recently gifted bread to a friend who wanted to buy a house, so with every ingredient, every knead, I put my wish for them to be able to buy a house. 5 months later, they had purchased her parents' house and were working on renovations. A Witch in her kitchen is a powerful thing.

Bread truly is the staff of life. Unless you are allergic to wheat, bread is good for you. The whole grains do wonders for our bodies. There is a reason that the Goddess gave us wheat. Thank you Demeter, for your gift.

Bread recipe:
I originally found this recipe at The New Homemaker but I have since made many modifications.

The Sponge
1 tablespoon active dry yeast
3/4 cup warm water
1 cup whole wheat flour

The Dough
1 3/4 cups warm water
4 1/2 cups whole wheat flour (approx)
3/4 cup gluten flour
3 tablespoons vegetable oil or 1/2 cup ground flax
1/3 cup honey
1 tablespoon salt

Put 1 cup flour and 1 tbsp active dry yeast in a mixing bowl. Pour 3/4 cup of warm water over it (water should be about 85-90 degrees F). Stir together and cover the bowl with plastic and let it sit for 45 minutes to an hour in a warm place (I put it in the oven with the light on). The yeast will activate, causing the mixture to become bubbly and spongy in texture. Now it is time to move on to the next step.

When your sponge is ready, uncover the bowl and add the 1 3/4 cups of warm water and 2 cups of whole wheat flour. Stir this in very well. Do not add the salt, oil or honey until after you've added the water and 2 cups of flour, otherwise you may cause your yeast to become too active too soon, which will affect the final texture of your bread.

Next add the 3/4 cup vital wheat gluten, 3 tablespoons vegetable oil (or ground flax), 1/3 cup honey and 1 tablespoon salt. Mix these in well. Now start adding the remaining flour about 1/2 cup at a time.

By the time you have added 4 cups of flour, you will have a stiff dough. Now you should put in your dough hook, or put your bread on a board to knead. Use additional flour as needed to keep the dough from sticking. If you're using a mixer, test the dough for stickiness - it should pull away from the sides of the bowl and form a ball on the hook.

Work the dough as long as possible, at least 10 minutes in the mixer. If you are kneading by hand, you'll need to knead it for about 20-30 minutes. Take a break about 10-15 minutes into it and let the dough rest for 10 minutes.

When you think you've kneaded long enough, draw the dough into a ball by cupping your fingers around the ball of dough and drawing the surface toward the back. It should be smooth all the way around, without cracks around the edges. If you want it perfect, knead until the cracks go away.

Place the dough into a large greased bowl (preferably glass or plastic) and cover with plastic. Leave the dough to rise in a warm place for 1 to 1 1/2 hours until it doubles in size. When you think enough time has passed, pull the plastic back and poke in the dough with your finger. If the hole fills up again it's not ready yet. Allow it to rise another 15 minutes and check again. If the hole doesn't fill up, it is time to shape the loaves.

Put the dough on the counter and gently press the excess air out of it. Do NOT knead the dough, or it will make tough bread. Cut the dough in half, and gently roll it, tucking the ends in to make a perfect loaf. It is hard to describe the technique, so you'll have to experiement. I find that if I press on the dough a bit, it helps to prevent air pockets.Place these into greased 9 X 5 pans. Cover them with plastic and allow them to rise for 45 minutes to an hour. The dough should rise at least an inch above the top of the pans. Turn your oven to 350 degrees and when the oven is ready, bake your loaves for 35-40 minutes.

To test for doneness, pull the loaf out of the pan and tap the bottom with a wooden handle. It should have a hollow sound. If you like, you can brush the tops with butter, but I don't as I find it makes my bread bags sticky inside and I can't reuse them. As tempting as it might be to eat your bread steaming hot from the oven, allow it to cool for at least 45 minutes, or it will tear instead of cutting nicely.

Enjoy!

The best laid plans don't always come to fruition.

I did not do a ritual on Friday night during the new moon after all. Why? I'm sick. I came down with an awful cold on Thursday and had no energy for a ritual by Friday afternoon. I know from experience that it is a bad idea to do ritual when you've got a head cold, so I decided to forgo it until the time is right again. I figure it was the universe telling me that it wasn't time to try to talk to the boy yet.

As a result of my being sick, I also didn't do ritual on the Autumn Equinox, which I'm not happy about. But again, sickness and ritual are a funky combination, and my experience is that when I do ritual when I'm sick I end up feeling physically worse than when I started out, and anything I try to set into motion usually backfires on me, so it is best to wait. I did, however, tidy up all of the summer flowers in my yard. The morning glory, lilies and sunflowers are finished for the year, so it was time to take them out and get my planters ready for fall flowers. I bought a couple of flats of yellow and burgundy mums today, and will plant them in my flowerboxes. I also have some cuttings for some geraniums, so I hope they will do well now that the weather has cooled a bit.

Blessed be!

Spirits...

Nearly all my life, I've felt the presence of spirits. Sometimes, particurlarly as we approach Samhain, I can see them in a physical form, but usually I see a blur of light or simply sense their presence. I'll touch more on spirits later, but I wanted to talk about the spirits that are in my house.

We have two spirits that have shown themselves to us. One is a middle-aged man, and the other is a boy around the age of 7 or 8. My husband, who until a year ago had never experienced spirits (whether it was because he was closed to them or they had never approached him I am not sure), feels the man in our bedroom and in the living room, and late at night he experiences a feeling on his legs like there are spiders crawling on him, but there is "nothing" there. Since I'm more sensitive to spirits than he is, and we all experience spirits in different ways, my experience is much different.

I sense the two spirits in different parts of the house, particularly in our bedroom. The man generally doesn't show himself to me at night, but I know he's there. He is a bit like Loki - he likes to play tricks. He is very active in the daytime, and will show himself in mirrors and windows as I walk by, so that I catch him in my peripheral vision. He also makes noises in other parts of the house, when my children & I are all together, so I know it is not one of the kids getting into something. He's also got a habit of moving keys from one location to another. He means no harm, but he is somewhat annoying at times, especially if my husband is away.

The boy will stand next to the bed and wake me up. Imagine my surprise when I open my eyes at 3:00 in the morning to see a little boy next to my bed! Sometimes I feel a tugging on my feet. He also wakes my 1 year old son - when I go into his room in the wee hours, I feel the boy in the room, but he always leaves just as I enter. He seems sad, and I sense that something terrible happened to him here. Not in this house, because judging from the way he is dressed, he died before this house was built. He doesn't know he's dead. Only once before have I experienced a spirit that I wanted out of my house. I have really heartbreaking dreams about this boy, and he's disruptive of my children's sleep, so tonight, while the moon is dark, I am going to try to contact him and tell him that it is okay to move on. I'm not planning on "evicting" him, but I will tell him that it is not okay to wake up the baby or to wake me, and that if he really wants to stay, he's welcome to, but that he mustn't disturb the children.

I'll post again after I've done my ritual and hopefully my house will be a bit more restful at night.

A Prayer...

I know You, Lady Goddess, as playful, Maiden, loving Mother, and wise old Crone. You are companion, nurturer and teacher to me. I ask You now, to walk with me, hold my hand, and to show to me the things I am afraid to see. I am a part of You, and You are a part of me, forever intertwined. I feel your Divine presence, in all things, for all has come from You. I will remember you in times of joy, times of sorrow, and times of pain, for You will support me through them all. I do not need to lean on You for support; just knowing that we are of one another lifts me up, over and above all of the pain and anger in this life. I pray to You, Lady Goddess, Friend, Mother, Grandmother, to teach me to be kind, and to see the error in my ways, that I may become closer to You.

Blessed be!

Keeping the flame.

I have begun to light my altar daily. Even if it is not a day I am doing ritual of any kind, I light my altar. My house feels much more peaceful and cheerful, and it is a wonderful time with my daughter. She is only 4, and doesn't fully understand all this stuff Mommy does with candles & incense, but she's very interested and loves to send happy thoughts to people when I light the altar.

Earth Mother ~ A Dream Remembered
Thursday, July 03, 1995

A re-telling of the dream that I had the night I did my dedication ceremony to Wicca.

I found myself in an arid wasteland, the noonday sun beating mercilessly upon the earth from high in a dry, cloudless sky. The soil beneath my feet was hard, dry, and cracked, like a dried riverbed. I thought for a moment that perhaps it was once a riverbed, but all I could see for miles around was this scorched cracked earth the colour of sand.

No breeze stirred the still air in which I stood, no plant, not even a cactus, struggled to suck moisture from the ravaged soil. I could feel the very air drawing the moisture from me, my body perspiring heavily in the dry heat. I began to walk, not knowing in which direction I was traveling. I knew that to stay in one place would be to wither and die, as the life that was once sustained by this once fertile land had so long ago died.

As my bare feet met with the ground, dust stirred at the contact, covering my skin with a thin film of grit. I continued to walk, in hopes that I would find an oasis somewhere, so that I could cool my parched throat, or perhaps some sign that life could be sustained in this wasted landscape. Even the sight of a beetle or other insect would comfort me, giving me hope that survival was possible in this place.

I walked for hours, the hot sun beating down on me, slowly sinking to my left. From this, I could ascertain that I was traveling Northward. I still had not any signs of life, nor any trace of moisture. My thirst burned in my belly and throat, and the dry air singed my lungs with every breath. I forced my blistered feet to obey me, and I stumbled onward, still faintly clinging to the hope that I would reach the end of this dead place, finding water, and with it, life.

Finally, my body failed me. Too long had I walked through this place without rest or water, and I fell to my hands and knees. I struggled to regain my feet, but my body would no longer obey. My mind screamed at me, telling me that if I did not continue moving, I would soon die. I crawled a few feet, only to collapse again. With a supreme effort, I struggled to my knees again, knowing that I had finally reached my limit; I could go no further.

I did not fear my death. Sure dying of exposure would be a most unpleasant way to end one’s life, but it is but one life; expendable, like a few pennies for the beggar on the street-corner. I would be missed by my loved-ones, but my death would be small in comparison to the death of the land upon which my tattered feet had tread for so many hours. Never had I felt such sorrow as I did at that moment. Slowly, tears came to my eyes. Not tears of self-pity for my impending death, or for the things I would never do, or the people I would leave behind. The tears I shed were entirely selfless. I wept for the ravaged earth, upon which I knelt, limp like a rag-doll. The land was too far gone. My tears fell on the dry earth, only to be sucked immediately into the soil, showing no signs of ever having been there.

Tears of rage, for mankind’s stupidity, in raping the land that sustains us. Tears of frustration, for my inability to repair the damage done. Tears of sorrow for the Earth that I could feel crying out from beneath me.

There I knelt, my tired, sunburned body racked with sobbing, my salty tears streaking my dirty cheeks to fall upon the dead soil beneath me. I cried until I could shed no more tears. Staring at the ground, I watched as a crack in the soil closed before me. Surely I must be hallucinating. I blinked, only to see the same process all around me. All of the fissures in the parched earth had begun to seal, and the ground became less dusty with every passing second. The soil became darker; loamy and fertile, and I watched as the green shoots of new plants uncurled from the soil, growing taller, broader.

I could hear a trickle of water, and I crawled over to the small spring that had appeared out of nowhere. Cupping my hands, I plunged them into the rivulet of water, not expecting to feel the water running over my skin, still convinced that I was imagining all that I was seeing, that it was nothing but an hallucination brought on by dehydration and the intense heat. To my surprise and delight, I felt the cool, clear water flowing lazily over my hands, and in wonderment, I brought them to my lips and drank my fill, feeling the life-giving fluid slide over my swollen tongue and down my dry throat.

When I looked up again, I was amazed to see that I was in the middle of a lush green forest, the pine, cypress, and spruce trees rising majestically to touch the top of the sky. Grass covered the ground upon which I knelt, ferns and low shrubs were scattered amongst the trees. Everything smelled green and fresh, and the earth beneath me felt soft with moss. I curled up on the ground and fell asleep, certain that this must all be a dream.

I awoke to the sound of birdsong. Opening my eyes, I looked through the dappled sunlight at a stag, who watched me quietly from a few yards away. His liquid brown eyes held no fear of me. His majestic rack of antlers gleamed gold in the soft filtered light of the forest, and with a twitch of an ear, he wandered away.

A short time later, I noticed a woman standing among the trees, watching me serenely. Her large green eyes seemed to glow from within. She had a round, soft face, which had a look of strength about it, smooth ivory skin and dewy pink lips parted in a gentle smile. A silver fillet held back her long raven-black hair, and upon her slim body, she wore a hooded robe of shimmering green fabric which blended in with her surroundings.

She stepped out of the trees and into the sunny clearing, her bare feet showing from beneath the hem of her long robe. I approached the woman, looking, wide-eyed, into her peaceful face.

‘Come to me,’ she said, her lilting voice flowing like honey, though I did not see her lips move. She smiled again, gesturing for me to come closer. As I neared, she opened her arms to me and took me in a warm embrace, my face pressed against her full bosom. As she stroked my tangled hair, I breathed in her scent; honeysuckle, jasmine, the sweet smells of spring flowers. I felt all of the hurt and tension lift from my tired, sore body as I rested in her strong, warm embrace.
‘Oh, beautiful child,’ she said, and I looked up into her face, and became absorbed in the silver-flecked green of her almond-shaped, dark-lashed eyes.

‘I know you,’ I said quietly, almost afraid to speak for fear that I would break the spell.

She took a small step away from me, holding my hands, my dry skin feeling rough against the satiny smoothness of her palms. I looked around, at the lush wonder of the forest, where so recently, there had been nothing but a barren waste.

‘You did all this,’ I said, awestruck at all I had witnessed this day.

The woman shook her head. ‘No, child. It was you.’ Upon seeing the look of utter disbelief upon my grimy face, she explained. ‘With your entirely selfless love for the Earth, the tears you shed for the land called me to this place. You brought life-giving love to this dead, dry place, and together, you and I healed the land.’

Her words flowed through me, and I came to realize that I was not as impotent or insignificant as I had thought myself to be.
‘You must understand, Daughter of the Earth, that I cannot work such wonders alone, for what wounds the Earth, wounds me as well.’

I did understand.

‘So you’re saying that my love for the Earth, and in turn, for you, helped to heal the land,’ I said.

She smiled, and looking lovingly at me, said, ‘You, and others like yourself, have the power and ability to change the world. The wounds mankind has afflicted on the Earth can be healed.’

I felt so at peace, in that precious moment, that when she drew away from me, I felt an almost painful sorrow as she backed into the trees. She lifted the hood of the robe over her shining black hair, and began to fade into the trees. ‘Do not lose faith, Daughter of the Earth,’ she said. ‘Remember what you have learned...’

I watched her until she faded from my sight, and walked alongside the stream, at peace with myself and the land, knowing that She would always be with me.

Why am I starting a blog? Well, partly because I have things to say, and you never know who might be reading... I may help open someone's eyes, or shed some light on something that someone is struggling with. At the very least, it will get the cobwebs out of my head, and at the most I might help educate people about what being a Witch really means.

Fair warning. I ramble. I ramble quite a lot, and I don't apologize for it. Sometimes I have things to say but no direction to my thoughts, so I just let it all out.
At any rate, welcome to my Witchy Ramblings. Enjoy.