Tag Archive: love


Friday Is About Love

solitairy witch

Good morning my beautiful darklings and witchlings.  I’m sitting here enjoying my coffee, cigarette and the fact that it is finally Friday.  Monday being a holiday has thrown me off all week.  Confusion has gotten me writing more though so I guess there’s an upside to losing a day.

That’s not what the blog is about today.  I’ve written about this before but since I love Friday’s and I love love, it’s worth writing about.  Especially when I have a new spell to give out for you to try if you want.  You know you want to know.  I’ve tried it out and it worked.  The thing is to remember that if you want to keep the spell growing or maintain it’s intensity, you’ll need to repeat the spell every New Moon.  Also keep in mind that this is a love spell so only use it on someone where the feelings are mutual, don’t force it on anyone.

So what you’ll need is a simple basic altar set up, one red candle and a lighter.  Get an image in your mind of the one you love or care for and light the candle.  Say the spell:  love is simple, love is pure, this love of ours will endure.  Make sure that you have that sent out from your heart and snuff the candle out.  I’ll tell you how to up the power of the spell if you want but remember, once a candle has been used for one thing, don’t use it for any other spell.

To amp up the spell get some rose and clear crystal quartz, and dress and bless the candle with some oil, then roll it in a mixture of cinnamon, five-finger grass, nutmeg and cloves.  Or any other assortment of herbs that deal with love that you prefer.  You could also use romance or love oil on the candle if you wanted.

So that’s my foray into the word of cupid for today.  Good luck my gothlings. 🙂

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waitingGood morning darklings.  Yes, it’s still dark outside and if I could be close to normal even with sleeping, that’s what I would be doing instead of writing a blog and brewing the day’s first pot of coffee at 4:30 am.  I also wouldn’t have had the guy that was working on my mother’s house come up to me and ask me if I knew how to cleanse a crystal yesterday out of the blue either.  Do I know how?  I can think of four off the top of my head right now.  Obviously he didn’t have much knowledge into witch craft or he would have also asked how to charge the crystal afterwards as well, but his intent should be enough to get it going and he didn’t share, so I just answered his questions.  But I digress.

I’m awake and I think it’s in large portion that I have a new idea and no amount of promises to myself to finish this WIP will let this new idea settle in my head and wait its turn.  I’ve got to start writing it.  I don’t want to lose the idea anyway but once again I’ll have my mind split between to stories.  Sometimes writing is like love, you never know when it’s going to show up in your life and when something good comes along you’ve got to grab it, hold on and see it through.  So that’s what I’ll do for both stories now.  Again.

I’m still in the blissful, hopeful stage for this one.  Even as I sit here writing this ideas are coming together, piece working themselves into the beginning and into the plot.  Even as my eyes are burning because there was not enough sleep last night, the story won’t let me go back.  So I’ve got a cup of coffee in front of me, a fresh pack of cigarettes for chain-smoking and my puppy sleeping in his bed next to where I write.  None of these things say, “Go catch a few more hours Krista.”  They say, “Finish up this blog and get started on the new book.”  All reading will come to an almost hault until I reach the point that I can relax in the story.

But really, I guess, I’m grateful.  There’s nothing worse than a writer who can’t write.  An imagination crippled is a great disability for art and somehow mine has healed itself for the time being.  So now it’s off to write before everyone wakes up and the story slides to the back of my mind where it might never be seen again.  Wish me luck that it looks and reads as good on the computer as the pictures do in my head. 🙂

Wander Thoughts

museFor what seemed the millionth time she circled the large pond, lost deep in her thoughts.  Her bared feet knew the path and led her path.  The trees were beginning to lose their colored leaves and created a soft cushion for her step upon and the short train of her white dress was the only thing that rustled or made a sound.  Occasionally there was the splash of a swan diving its head into the water after food but none of that disturbed her thoughts.  She no longer noticed how the tangles of branches would bend out of her way as she paced her circle.

Once, once a summer ago, she would be sitting on her rock, dangling her feet in her pond, appreciating the beauty that surrounded her.  An underground stream fed and was fed from the bottom of the pond keeping the water fresh and clear, stocked with the silver darting fish that the swans fed from.  The trees grew close to drink from the fresh magical water, causing them to grow stronger and taller, creating the canopy overhead that the sun had to filter through on even the brightest summer day.  She would reach down and sweep her hand through the water, wetting the bell sleeve of her gown, and release enough of her magic to let trees have enough of the magical water to last through the winter.  In the colder autumns she would push extra in just in case it was cold enough for the water to freeze over.  Her pond never. would.

She would catch a glimpse of her face, blond hair held back by woven flowers that grew there falling around her shoulders.  Her blue sky eye would be transitioning to a shimmering silver, the first of the changes and one of the things that marked her as the princess.  That and her size once the change was complete.  The she would lean back, happy and calm, enjoying the sounds of the woods around her and the water trickling and softly splashing against the few rocks in her pond.  She only had to wait for her flock to come home.

But that was before he’d found her pond.  In all the time she’d been changing into a swan and leading them south for the winter, no one had ever found them.  Somehow he had.  At first she used her magic on him to convince him it was a dream but he came back.  Again and again, with eyes warm like her beloved summers when he and her flock could take their human forms, hand that were rough from work but gentle when they touched her.  No other had ever dared touched the Princess Swan of Hidden Pond.  Finally he kissed her and the heat and passion he made her feel fully awakened her human side.

Now as she paced, waiting for him, waiting to tell him goodbye for the season, she understood why some of her swans were so sad in a moment she had always felt so grand and pure.  Swans mate for life and some were leaving a loved one behind for a season as she was about to do.

She was so lost in her thoughts of confusion and sorrow over leaving, she didn’t hear him come behind and wrap his arms around her waist.  She gasped and smiled despite everything else she was feeling and leaned back into the strong arms and chest she’d come to covet the summer.  It somehow made her feel better and worse.

“Is it time?” he asked without turning her to face him.

Unable to face him, she nodded and said, “It is.”  She extended her hand to the pond which had become full of her flock as she paced.  “I will be back though I you wait for me.”  She added the last in desperation.  Most humans did not, could not see any future in it but she believed and hoped he would be different like some of the others, that he possessed that “love conquers all” gene.

She turned to face him, drowning in his eyes as she could see him doing the same until she was drowning in his kisses.  I was a longing kiss but did not feel like good-bye.  “I will be here when you come back,” he whispered, his forehead touching hers, his eyes closed.

The Princess stepped back from his embrace and allowed the change that had been pulling on her and she’d been denying take her.  He’d seen her as both swan and human and knew her by her eyes among the others, but he’d never seen the change.  He’d always thought it would be painful but she slid from one form to another as gracefully as she did everything.  With a last look she joined her fellows in the water and a few commanding calls later, the pond erupted in water and shimmering white feathers as the flew upward through the branches and disappeared.

He gathered her dress and promised himself that he would return everyday that winter allowed it if only to ease the pain of the part of him that had just flown away.

Then, one day as he stood by her lake, looking over it, thinking of the warm days that had been so full instead of the stark trees and chilly air, a silver eyed swan swam towards him.

A Storm of Words

storm witchGood morning gothlings.  There was an all night rainstorm last night.  There’s something about the rain that makes me want to write, or cast spells but writing won last night.  Maybe it’s the kind of stuff that I write that makes me that way.  Ever since I was little I loved thunderstorms.  My dad would hold me up at the front door so we could watch the lightning and that was the beginning but I never grew out of it.

Give me my favorites, a thunderstorm, rain like last night or a steady spring rain that you can open your windows too and I have to write something.  I think the spring rain is my favorite.  There’s no rush to that rain.  The curtains billow with the slightly chilled air that can be cured with a cup of coffee.  You can look outside and see the grass and trees look greener, the flowers bend and sway, there’s the constant, calming patter as the drops bounce off the world around you and you have time to sit and contemplate what you’re writing.  The clouds billow in different shades of gray and darken your house, making it just right to maybe light a few candles and a stick of incense.

It’s almost like casting a spell on myself, reaching that calm meditative state where I can really let my muse in and listen to her.  The writing just feels better.  It seems right the first time around.  Those are the perfect times.  The times when my ideas come faster than I can type.  The times when the people who don’t understand why I bother to keep writing after all this time will never understand.  When your imagination is free and flowing and you don’t want to stop.  Kind of like falling in love for the first time.  Really, why would we write if we weren’t in love with it?  That’s a magic every writer has.  🙂

Friday’s Witch

Good morning my darklings.  I hope everyone got their tummy’s stuffed yesterday.  I know I did and I’m still paying for it in cleanup, you know pre, post and post-post cleanup?  I’m in the post-post stage thank goodness.  And good luck to those of you who headed out into the cold for Black Friday.  I did that once and that was enough for me to learn my lesson to never do it again.

Fridays have a different meaning for me though.  As weird or morbid as I am, I’m still one of those people who is in love with love.  I adore the feeling of leaning into my husband and feeling like there’s nothing better in the world than his arms even after more than a decade.  I still love his kisses and looking in his eyes.  I’m one of those suckers who for better or worse, really meant it forever.  And if you want to cast a love spell, to spice things up, to stabilize things when they’re a little rocky or if you want to try to draw your soul mate to you, dream of him, enchant or entice the one you’re with, Friday’s your go to day.

A love spell can be worked any day of the week but certain days are best for working certain spells.  Friday is ruled by the planet Venus and we all know Venus was the Goddess of love so it only makes sense love spells.  When I want to plead with my Muse, I go for another day but that’s a different story. 🙂   So today I think will be some love spells.  Little gentle ones just for the cause of making an over tired man remember he’s still in love and maybe one other I found that was interesting and will finally give me a chance to use some of my graveyard dirt. 🙂  And, last, but not least, my love charm bag.  I need to make a new one with a little more focus and detail.  I’m always thinking about my husband when I make them, but magic has its own agenda sometimes, especially if you’re not specific enough.  I went for some oomph on that one too and got a lot of attention I wasn’t looking for.  This time I’ll go for simple yet slightly intense.  Hopefully the occult store I go to will be have some Black Friday sales too. 🙂

A post like this might seem odd for a writer, I guess, but it’s my blog so I can write what I want, right?  And when someone reads a short story, or eventually one of my books, even though I may have taken some liberties with the practice and how things really work, they’ll know that I actually do know what I’m talking about.  🙂

Ode To My Baxter

It’s kind of hard to say ode to “my” Baxter because if you ever met him, you loved him, he loved you and you felt like he was your dog too.  It would be a tough chore to find a dog that was more playful, loving, cuddling and kissey than The Big Man.  You’d also find it difficult to find a dog who was as hungry as Baxter.  Every holiday found him planted firmly between my father and I (the soft touches), drooling and giving you “the eyes”  The end result would be us sneaking him turkey and gravy, macaroni and cheese, sparerib bones, cake whatever we happened to be eating too.  And it was particularly amusing to watch him go at a plate of ice cream or mashed potatoes and gravy.  Who knew where it would end up.  Then, like any guy, he’d need a nap unless one of the kids wanted to play.

There are too many stories to share to explain what a missing piece of our hearts his absence will leave.  A 5 year old puppy, he played with the best of them.  There was no chewy that wasn’t going to be pounced on and gnawed into a sloppy mess before being devoured.  No chance for a ride, a run or game of chase would go past him.  No tuggie toy would go untugged and none of our of kids would call him without running over to receive a thorough inspection and Baxter Bath.  God help you if he’d just had a drink of water, you were getting wet.  But you wouldn’t care.  It was Baxter love.

If you showed up at my brother’s house and he saw you coming, no screen door would stand in his way and I swear Boxers aren’t supposed to be able to jump that high.  Then once he got to you, his nub of a tail would shake so hard you’d think his whole butt would have to fall off.  He was also very fond of a good nap.  The more cuddling and petting, the better.

I firmly believe in the Rainbow Bridge in Heaven where our beloved pets wait for us to come home.  I think he’s waiting now, owning the food and water bowls, playing with new dog friends and wondering when the heck are we going to get there.  He needs some people food, some good petting and maybe a nap in a puppy pile of his family who miss him.  And he’ll be just as happy as each of us come home to him one by one.  I love my Bax and I’ll be just as happy to see him.