Latest Posts by duskthewitchesblog - Page 6

Actually sane, actually tuned in to the mysteries ✨️

Magical Properties of Vegetables

Alfalfa sprouts: prosperity

Asparagus: lust, grounding

Artichoke: lust, protection, personal growth

Beans: grounding, love, lust, prosperity, protection

Beet: beauty, love, passion

Broccoli: strength, leadership, protection

Brussels Sprouts: protection, luck, rebirth, stability, courage

Cabbage: fertility, health, longevity, love, money, protection

Carrot: banish, clarity, fertility, illusions, health

Cauliflower: protection

Celery: grounding, lust, mental powers, peace, psychic powers

Corn: spirituality, protection, abundance

Cucumber: purity, fertility, healing

Eggplant: wealth, prosperity

Endive: love, lust, physical strength

Horseradish: Exorcism, purification, banishing, empowering, warding

Lettuce: stamina, sleep, rest

Leek: love, physical strength, protection

Mushroom: psychic awareness, physical strength, hidden truths, courage, healing, health

Onion: warding, protection, health, banishing, virility, fertility, energy, psychic power

Pea: love, prosperity

Pepper green: growth, prosperity

Pepper red: energy, strength, vitality

Pepper yellow: empowered creativity

Potatoes: Protection, compassion, potency, wishing

Pumpkin: healing, money, prosperity, abundance, divination

Radish: lust, protection

Rhubarb: fertility, love, protection

Spinach: fortitude, physical strength, general physical health, prosperity, money

Sweet Potato: love, lust

Squash: spirituality

Tomatoes: protection, warding, health, money, luck, love

Turnip: warding, banishing

Zucchini: spirituality, protection, prosperity, lust, abundance

*source: Cunningham's Encyclopedia of Wicca in the Kitchen*

*source2: Scott Cunningham Encyclopedia Of Magical Herbs*

the trees you grew up with have not forgotten you. their branches still whisper your name in the breeze and their roots remember the paths your feet once traced through their shade.

My house is alive. And I do not mean figuratively.

I mean it has a mind of its own. 

My house is mine. I designed the layout, I watched it get built, I decorated it. From the size of the front door to the paint color palette… from the fabric of the sofa to the style of the photo frames… everything was my decision. It’s as mine as mine gets.

So the moment I introduced myself to it, it started talking back.

We have a courtyard full of trees and plants, so there’s a healthy amount of bugs outside, which sometimes get in when the front door is open. I hate that. I hate that very much.

So I told my house to never let those intruders in. The next day, without having to spray anything, I saw several dead bugs on the floor. I swept them up. And never again did I see anything flying or crawling around the house.

Another time, I had a plumbing issue. My bidet wouldn’t stop running, and the bathtub wouldn’t drain completely. 

I told my house how much I hate having to let maintenance workers in, because they often leave a mess, which I have to spend hours sanitizing afterwards. I asked my house if it could help me avoid this somehow.

In just about five seconds, the bidet stopped running, and the bathtub fully drained.

Over the holidays, a relative came over for dinner. Having eaten so much, she felt sluggish and asked if she could sleep over. Now I don’t really like this relative. I included her in the guest list as an act of Christmas kindness, but sleeping over? That’s too much.

While I was thinking of how to reject her request, the power went out. And the moment she left the gate, the electricity came back on. I asked the neighbors about it later on, and they said their power was on the whole night.

Another time, I lost the remote control to my living room air conditioner. Which was impossible. It’s always in the same place, and I was alone that whole time.

While looking for it everywhere, I ended up opening a drawer I never use. In it I found white mold, which likely developed during the few months I lived abroad, leaving that part of the house susceptible to humidity. I’ve since taken care of the problem.

Right after I discovered the mold, I found the missing remote control right there on top of my coffee table. Where it always is. Where I couldn’t have missed it.

My house is one of those things that make me what I am — a traditional witch, despite how modern my life is. It reminds me that even though my ancestors wouldn’t recognize many parts of my craft, I remain their child. Their blood is within me, ready to awake when required.