Reviews: Love Magic

So, I recently came into possession of a whole trunkload of witchy books, some good and some bad. I've been working my way through them, and thought I would share my thoughts.

Bond.

I've found my new holiday nail colour! Not that you care, but I'm excited!

'The World Is Not Enough' from the OPI Skyfall collection.

Seeeeeeeeeeeeeee?  I've used it for a half-moon manicure as is my norm.


In other news... Spent a few days in Chilliwack at my mom's. She's currently in China (due back tomorrow) and so my sibling and I used her house as a sort of getaway from the city and a place to decompress from the fun and drama of October.

What's extra nice about my mom's place is that there's enough witch supplies there that you don't have to pack any of your own. And she has a back yard! Weather permitting, you can burn shit and dance around like a loon provided you don't care about the neighbours.

There's also a fairly decent little trail nearby that follows along a creek. The last day we were there I took a walk along it. Now, I've lived in British Columbia my whole life aside from about half a year in Dublin, Ireland, and so for me a natural constant has been rainy forests. Growing up in Rossland, we'd take the dog for walks up the mountain trails. In Vancouver, there's Stanley Park and some of the other natural areas around town. So walking along in the Wack was familiar - mossy ground, cedars and birch, juniper and larch, ferns and mushrooms. It's what I've always known. Sometimes I'll be reading something, and there will be descriptions of nature included, but they very often seem to be of the midwest. Basically, it never sounds wet enough. But, you know, here we don't have seasons so much as we have ten months of rain (and maybe some slush when it's cold) and two of some sun.

(I once heard a comedian on Just For Laughs who went on about Canadian winters and then added that you always have that one asshole friend from Vancouver who calls you up in December all, "yeah, it was pretty cold, I had to put on a sweater to go check on my herb garden..." I AM THAT ASSHOLE.)

Anyway, as nice as it was it's even nicer to be back somewhere where the corner store doesn't close at 9 PM and the buses run more than once an hour and don't detour through farmland.

Waxin bees.

Did you know that if you drink nothing but like, six cups of Secret Weapon tea and you haven't eaten for hours, you will pee a ton of colourless liquid?

You know what I fuckin love?

Candles. I am one of those assholes who, if you go over to their house, will ignore the fact that electricity has been invented in the name of ambience. This is yet another reason to hate summer, because having a room full of beautiful burning things just makes everything sweatier.

Thanks to my mom, I own enough Coventry candles that I may be able to bequeath some to people when I die. Lots of them are the Motor City Hoodoo line, which I consider 'working' candles. This leaves me with six of the Witches Brew line to burn purely for scent. And I do. Because it's niiiiiiice.

The only candles I love more that nice smelly ones are beeswax candles.

Recently, my friend Sweet Pea invited my sister and I to this craft fair shizz going on out at the Croatian Cultural Centre. There were many owls and moustaches. But there was also this crunchy looking dude selling beeswax candles for the Arbutus Candle Company.

Now, to give you some context as to why I wound up very excited about this... for some fucked-up reason, I can never seem to find beeswax candles here in East Van. This makes ZERO sense, considering how many bloody hippies and free spirits and hipsters live on this side of town. You'd think one of the five zillion ultra organic co-op grocers and hemp shops or whatever around here would have them, but nooooooooo. So, if I want them? I have to haul my ass across the city to Banyen Books and stock up.

SO. This crunchy dude is sitting there, and I check his prices and proceed to nearly wet myself. Dude was selling twelve inch tapers for less money that Banyen sells ones HALF that size for. Mind blooooooooooown. I bought a few different sizes and went on my merry way. I grabbed one of his cards too - obviously, since I linked that shit up there. My poor diseased brain would not have remembered the name of the company on its own.

I have one of the mega-tapers burning right now, and it is ever so lovely. The smell of beeswax makes me feel all warm and happy. It's like a hug! From bees!

I used one of the wee ones for a spell candle, and I must say the beeswax seems to pick up powder better than just plain ol' dollar store wax ones. HUZZAH!

Futhark my life.

On the way to the drugstore, there is a long white construction wall with 'post no bills' signs on it. Indeed, there are no bills. There is, however, graffiti. On my way past, I scanned the usual anti-gentrification slogans, and then did a double take.

"Is that the fucking elder futhark?"

I pulled an eyeliner pen out of my purse and quickly copied down the runes onto my wrist. Walking home I s

tudied it, cursing myself for not knowing if a) it WAS for sure the elder futhark and b) not remembering the bloody alphabet if it were. I then realised nobody in their right mind would give two shits.

A google search later, I discover, A-HA! It's the MEDIEVAL expansion on the younger futhark. I then set about translating my wrist.

It says, 'Larson.'

What we have learned today: some kid named Larson has a sharpie, and I have no life.

 

 

(My sister, however, thinks it's adorable that a) I was upset for not knowing my runic alphabet, and b) for being honestly pissed that it was just some kid's name.)

October Post-Mortem

Oh, October. How you consume my life. Every year, everything happens by Samhain... and then November is just dealing with the fallout.

So, what do you do? You look at your missed Pagan Blog Project prompts, shrug, drink your nasty mugwort tea (seriously, this shit is foul) and post some pictures from October's main events.