Yule is coming down on us like a blizzard, merciless steel clouds in the distance and heavy. So heavy.

As a child, the Solstice was fun and free with all the food I could eat, gifts abound, magick around every corner. I loved it so much. As an adult, by the dinner the feast I cooked is ready, I don’t want to look at it anymore. The gifts come from me and I hate to shop for anything when I can avoid it. The magick is still there, but it’s changed from the joyful ritual of fulfulling my wishes to a somber invocation of the great Gods for protection and stability. I want to show this to Jack, show him the reality of the world, but I also don’t want to shorten any part of his childhood naivety. It’s a hard line to walk.

On the other hand, with nothing but determination to carve out the time and quick hands, I’ve managed to finish the big afghan of knot magick I’ve been working on, just in time. Which is also why I’ve slacked on this journal. It won’t happen anymore because I’m learning to budget my time better.

Mom is healing and Angie is pissy, same as always. This Yule will be quiet and peaceful, no matter how many pieces I have to chop those two into so I can stuff them in the freezer. Jack, of course has been wonderful, patient while I manage everything around the holiday. He says he still believes in Santa, but I think he’s doing it for my sake. I’ll be so sad when he finally confirms he knows it’s me giving him all the gifts. I love playing such a magical entity.

Blessed be.



Yule time is hectic on its good days. This year is no different. I have a list a mile long of stuff to get done now that Mom is still healing from surgery and the holidays add even more to that.

Lately I’ve been too exhausted for anything more than the list and sleep. And time with Jack. I’m not ashamed to say Jack has been my anchor in the storm over the past few weeks. He’s demanded I find time to play with him and then he chooses relaxing things I like to do, which we do together.

On a different note, I finished the afghan I was working on, binding the spell to it finally. There’s a little less weight on my shoulders now. I think I’m going to start crocheting amigurumi and integrating various spellwork into them. Small projects I can do quickly, while also a relaxing pastime. The first will be Bendy, for Jack, a sentinel against the dark. I mean, really, what better way to guard a child at night than with the help of a demon?

And my journal. I’ve got to stop skipping entries. I feel better when I write this, every time, and I should take the twenty minutes to work on it. I’ll do better.

Blessed be.


I’ve forgotten how soothing knot magic can be. The rhythm of the work, the color saturating into my soul, the magnificent finished product.

A string of knots is easy and quick to do, I used to keep hanks of every color yarn on hand or in my pocket for casting on the fly. My favorite way to create knot magic is with crocheting though. Knitting too. Angie does it with cross-stitch, which I suppose means any knots work.

It all started because I decided to make Jack an afghan for Yule. I found a wonderful ombre green and a great little pattern that looks like rows of spiderwebs. Of course Jack saw it and loved the work I was doing. As I was working on it, the ritual came to me without thinking. Calm. Prosperity. Serenity. Over and over again.

The easy lull of the simpler magics have made the last two weeks a lot less stressful. Work was hard, but doable. Parenting was hard, but doable. Life was hard, but doable.

I think I’m going to add this little bit of casting back into my daily life. I haven’t felt this good in years.

Blessed be.


There’s an energy to the 5th of November that’s hard to ignore. It’s right at the start of the New Year for us Pagans, which is powerful in its own right, followed by two more lesser known religious holidays. All Souls Day and All Saints Day haven’t been acknowledged by the wider world in a long time, but certain sects of believers still devoutly observe these two.

Guy Fawkes has become an archetype after a fashion, and his energy carries on all these centuries later. A persona to take when one is resisting something and more power is added to him legend. A face of the masses. Today to is an Election Day in the States, with millions putting out that energy in an effort to change a place. The feel of it is almost heady to those of us sensitive to it. Mom scoffed at me the last time I talked about it, but Angie gets what I mean. She doesn’t like the way it makes the air feel, but she’s not big on change. I love it.

The kittens we rescued are doing well. They’re finally starting to bounce around and get underfoot. The place is a little small which makes trying to avoid stepping on them hilarious, Angie has toppled over onto her ass at least once trying to not step on a kitten and I loved it.

Halloween was calm, though I missed Jack the whole time. Turn and burn wasn’t fun but I managed to make it through in one piece. My little jack-o-lantern helped ward off the few bad things that tried to wander in the shop, though it had no power it whatever it is in the center booth sitting in the middle of the lot. I wish we could tear that thing down.

I think I’m going to soak up a little of the defiant spirit of today before I head off to work. I have a feeling I might need it.

Blessed be.


Late on this post, but I just finally crawled out of bed. Sick as a dog. Bad cold happily and not the flu. Not that it makes me feel any better. Damned virus.

Part of this is probably because of the rather unkind words I had when I found out my ex knocked up his homewrecker. This isn’t the first time she’s gotten pregnant by a man she wasn’t married to and I fully expect her to floof off to her next conquest at the earliest opportunity, once the baby’s born. Seems to be her M.O. I might have laughed at the karma the ex is about to incur. Okay, I did laugh. I should’ve just wished them the best. The Three-fold Law doesn’t discern schadenfreude.

Halloween is going to be fun this year. I work a turn and burn, morning and graveyard shifts, since Jack will be with the ex. No time for proper ritual to welcome the new year, though the boss has agreed to let me bring a jack-o-lantern. I’ll spell it early tomorrow morning with blessings and protections and bring it with me to work tomorrow night.

Going back to sleep before I have to get Jack from school. I’m worn to the bone.

Blessed be.


The Caramels’ eyes have opened! All are blue at the moment, which is normal for babies, but I fully expect their eyes to change to greens and ambers in the next few weeks. I’m still gobsmacked these three have made it. Jack has been an enormous help with them. He sleeps like I do, once asleep he doesn’t move for the whole night. I was able to have the kittens sleep with him on my graveyard shifts and Jack kept them warm and feed like a pro. My son is amazing.

Money is going to be a little tight the rest of the month. I put Jack’s big present on layaway and it cost more than I thought it would. Worth it.

Something strange is going on at work again. I would swear the place is haunted, but I’ve checked. No graveyard ground for miles and no deaths on record. Yet I get the feeling I’m being watched. Our dragon guard has puffed up in a defensive mantle at random, like he can feel something there that shouldn’t be, but I’d investigate and nothing was there. Maybe it’s something that appears at random.

I think it’s coming from the closed up center island. The protective bag I stuffed in there might not be strong enough, or the thing in there is something I don’t have the ability to ward against. Maybe I’m just paranoid. Graveyard shifts are an apropos name for a reason.

Blessed be.


The late post is entirely due to the dual issues of mom and the new kittens.

I’m sad to note we started with six, but are now down to three. Jack dubbed the surviving litter the Caramels. The three we lost were to pneumonia that first night we had them. I don’t know how we managed to save the remaining three, but we did. Maple, Cinnamon, and Sunspot are wriggly little balls of orange-brown fluff with an unrivaled appetite I’d expect in a bigger cat. They’re surviving with constant care, so that helps. On a side note, I’ve found I have an unfortunate talent for digging small holes very fast. I don’t ever want to use it again.

Mom is healing. Her pissy attitude about this isn’t helped by any sweetening spell I know, or Angie knows, and she’s driving us crazy. I think my sister has been seriously tempted to poison her dinner a couple of times. I’m awed by Angie’s ability to refrain from doing so. There’s a reason I’m not cooking for Mom this week.

Jack is my saving grace. All the little things that make me calm he’s provided with an effortless smile and encouragement. He’s also taken on the task of helping Mom with her exercises, which has given me time to step back and breathe. The kitten cuddle is his favorite part though. When it’s time to feed the littles, he’ll sit with them in his lap and pet them while I feed and clean one. He’s a great person and I’m eternally grateful he’s my son.

I’m tired. But this too shall pass.

Blessed be.


Nothing. Absolutely nothing happened last week. I sat in front of this damned thing and scratched my head over what to write, just to give up on writing anything.

This week, on the other hand, was busy.

It all started with a fall Mom had and ended up in the emergency room for surgery on her shoulder. Come to find out she tore muscles in her fall which had to be patched up. The doctor is blunt but nice, with a sense of humor so dry it could qualify as talcum powder. I think I’m gonna like him over the next few weeks of Mom’s recovery process.

Besides my sudden, strange, interest in this horror video game Jack plays, the same day as Mom’s surgery on of the neighbors found a caterwaul of abandoned kittens. He brought them to us because he’s very allergic. Me, Mom and Angie are known as the crazy cat ladies around here I found out. He figured we could nurse them. Angie has been taking care of the kittens while I’ve been handling Mom.

Jack thinks the new additions are the best thing ever because: “Mom, it’s like BAM! Surprise kittens.” My son in a nutshell. I love him to pieces. I have this feeling he’s the only one who’ll remind me to keep my head over the next month.

Speaking of, Halloween! Yay! My favorite time of the year, as cliche as it is. I don’t know what I’m going to dress as this year, but I have a feeling the kids will love it.

Blessed be.


Do I really have thirty entries on this thing? Sometimes, when I add to thing journal thing, it feels like more. Other times it feels like less. Either way, there’s a catharsis happening here. Let’s see how another thirty entries go.

At the library a couple days ago, I came across a book on old apothecary recipes. Ones that work and I’m assuming that from the fact none of the recipes have a warning, in addition to a flip through the book. No dangerous ingredients that I found except for maybe navy-proof rum. A few look like they can be modified for spellwork, turned into potions or tinctures. It’s something new to concentrate on while Jack’s school does stupid shit.

That’s a whole other thing. Jack came home yesterday and told me they were changing his class. At first I thought they were moving him because of disciplinary issues and I was furious they moved him without warning or explanation. When he finally got me to understand what happen happened instead, I was in a towering rage over it.

Basically, they’re sending Jack’s teacher to a higher grade and sending his whole class to a new teacher, a month after school already starting. The parents weren’t notified, students weren’t warned, and even the teachers involved had no concrete information until last Friday. Admin knew though. They knew and said nothing.

I’m still breathing fire over this.

Blessed be.


This week didn’t get any better. It didn’t get any better at all and I think I really need to look into better ways to petition Thor if this is what He thinks of my efforts. It started with a part-timer calling out sick while the boss is on vacation with the rest of us scrambling to cover for him.

That was the start of my work week.

The end of my work week had a woman drive onto my lot with her car engine on fire and park next to a gas pump. There was a mad scramble and the fire department had to be called. Good thing I was quick with a fire extinguisher. Good thing the fire extinguisher is kept up to code.

I’m just… exhausted by this week. Jack is at the ex’s until Friday. His unending well of positive energy would help a lot right now, because just being around him is a boost I could use, but I’ll have to make do until he’s home again.

Next week will hopefully be easier. At work anyway. Mom is still nagging me about everything that crosses her mind and Angie is doing her best to avoid being caught in the crossfire. Ugh.

Blessed be.