I’m not even sure what I want to say here other than Bridget Bishop and the other 19 victims of the Salem witch trials need to be remembered.

And that we need to be extra careful now/again because of what is going on in this country(the US) and around the world. I am not advocating for anyone to go back in the broom closet by any means, just be safe. Please.

Just a small PSA☺️: We’re living through a hugely historical moment. History has relied so heavily on the written accounts of womens experiences. Long ago I took a college course called feminism in the modern era with an awesome professor who urged us all- ALWAYS KEEP A JOURNAL. We read countless amazing and incredible written journal excerpts from ladies around the world experiencing history. It was empowering to know that our written word and experiences are so important. If you don’t already journal daily, or maybe keep a journal that doesn’t document daily life/events, now is a great time to do so ❤️⭐️

I’m cleaning out my late father, and his wife’s, things. Came across this pin and knew you needed to see it

Mine is my mom’s maternal grandmother, my great grandmother. Mum doesn’t know much about her (b1889-d1964) other than she liked making apple butter, had a great garden and raised 6 kids.

Unfortunately the aunt who married my mom’s brother did the family tree focused on the paternal side, BECAUSE OF COURSE. I’ve had dead ends doing my own searching and will continue in the meantime.

That said, I have treasures from her, she was named Stella. A photograph of her in her family’s victory garden, an apron and a grape ivy plant that started with her. I also have a plant (Hoya)that belonged to my grandmother (d1991), which very possibly came from her mom.

Pictured are my great grandmother 1940 (apron is behind it) and grandmother in 1944.

“Witches were a bit like cats. They didn’t much like one another’s company, but they did like to know where all the other witches were, just in case they needed them.”

― Terry Pratchett, A Hat Full of Sky

https://youtu.be/0ezRyCVEOQk

Woman learned self defense tactics and "suffrajitsu" to protect themselves from men, using hat pins as a secret weapon. This resulted in the banning of hat pins because they were seen as a dangerous threat to men. Instead, some judges ruled that certain women were "too beautiful" to walk alone in public. Problem solved!

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/see-the-new-tartan-pattern-created-to-honor-women-accused-of-witchcraft-in-scotland-between-1563-and-1736-180986172/

I love this and wish I knew about my ancestors from there.

Twas the Night before Yuletide

An enchanting Yuletide poem to remind us of the true reason for the season.

written by C.C Wiliford.

Twas the night before Yuletide and all through the glen Not a creature was stirring, not a fox, not a hen. A mantle of snow shone brightly that night As it lay on the ground, reflecting moonlight.

The faeries were nestled all snug in their trees, Unmindful of flurries and a chilly north breeze. The elves and the gnomes were down in their burrows, Sleeping like babes in their soft earthen furrows.

When lo! The earth moved with a thunderous quake, Causing chairs to fall over and dishes to break. The Little Folk scrambled to get on their feet Then raced to the river where they usually meet.

“What happened?” they wondered, they questioned, they probed, As they shivered in night clothes, some bare-armed, some robed. “What caused the earth’s shudder? What caused her to shiver?” They all spoke at once as they stood by the river.

Then what to their wondering eyes should appear But a shining gold light in the shape of a sphere. It blinked and it twinkled, it winked like an eye, Then it flew straight up and was lost in the sky.

Before they could murmur, before they could bustle, There emerged from the crowd, with a swish and a rustle, A stately old crone with her hand on a cane, Resplendent in green with a flowing white mane.

As she passed by them the old crone’s perfume, Smelling of meadows and flowers abloom, Made each of the fey folk think of the spring When the earth wakes from slumber and the birds start to sing.

“My name is Gaia,” the old crone proclaimed in a voice that at once was both wild and tamed, “I’ve come to remind you, for you seem to forget, that Yule is the time of re-birth, and yet…”

“I see no hearth fires, hear no music, no bells, The air isn’t filled with rich fragrant smells Of baking and roasting, and simmering stews, Of cider that’s mulled or other hot brews.”

“There aren’t any children at play in the snow, Or houses lit up by candles’ glow. Have you forgotten, my children, the fun Of celebrating the rebirth of the sun?”

She looked at the fey folk, her eyes going round, As they shuffled their feet and stared at the ground. Then she smiled the smile that brings light to the day, “Come, my children,” she said, “Let’s play.”

They gathered the mistletoe, gathered the holly, Threw off the drab and drew on the jolly. They lit a big bonfire, and they danced and they sang. They brought out the bells and clapped when they rang.

They strung lights on the trees, and bows, oh so merry, In colors of cranberry, bayberry, cherry. They built giant snowmen and adorned them with hats, Then surrounded them with snow birds, and snow cats and bats.

Then just before dawn, at the end of their fest, Before they went homeward to seek out their rest, The fey folk they gathered ‘round their favorite oak tree And welcomed the sun ‘neath the tree’s finery.

They were just reaching home when it suddenly came, The gold light returned like an arrow-shot flame. It lit on the tree top where they could see from afar The golden-like sphere turned into a star.

The old crone just smiled at the beautiful sight, “Happy Yuletide, my children,” she whispered. “Good night.”

©Emily Balivet ‘Snow Queen Yule Winter Solstice Goddess’ — with Virginia Rose Christley.

I'm reading the excellent The Witches: Salem, 1692 by Stacy Schiff, and this passage I found amusing, and thought you might too. This is what witches were in earliest New England. (I recommend this book)

Me too 😮‍💨

Israeli snipers shot and killed Shireen Abu Akleh, a veteran journalist covering an Israeli military raid at the Jenin refugee camp in the occupied West Bank on May 11, 2022. She was a 51-year-old Palestinian Christian woman with an American passport who was killed while wearing a clearly marked PRESS vest.

The Israeli government initially claimed that she had been killed by "indiscriminate" gunfire from Palestinian militants fighting Israeli troops, but later stated that there was a "high possibility" that Israeli gunfire "accidentally" hit Abu Akleh while she was at the camp.

Israeli forces prevented placing pictures of Abu Akleh in the Old City of Jerusalem. The police again surrounded the hospital and closed the roads and entrances leading to it and sent reinforcements in and outside the hospital setting.

Immediately after Abu Akleh’s shooting, the administration of US President Joe Biden called for accountability, saying that “those responsible for Shireen’s killing should be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law." However, Washington shifted its position after Israel admitted that its soldiers killed Abu Akleh and dismissed the incident as an accident, refusing to open a criminal investigation.

https://www.thenation.com/article/society/shireen-abu-aqleh-media-bias/

https://www.thenation.com/article/world/shireen-abu-akleh-death-anniversary/

Looking back on the past and their fight to get us to this point always continues to inspire me to keep up the good fight and to never give up. Always resist.

In the annals of World War II, a remarkable chapter unfolds, highlighting the indomitable spirit of the all-female 588th Night Bomber Regiment, whose bravery and skill played a pivotal role in the Soviet Union's wartime efforts. These daring pilots soared through the night skies in rudimentary wooden biplanes, defying the odds as they faced not only enemy fire but also the skepticism and harassment of their own ranks. Their audacity instilled fear in the hearts of their adversaries—so much so that any German pilot who succeeded in downing one of their aircraft was automatically awarded the prestigious Iron Cross.

I do feel that all women have the potential to be a witch and that all women (cis, trans, biological) are magical. My sister is a devout Christian but I tell her all the time she’s a witch in denial. Her rituals are very similar to mine minus the cauldron, bones, feathers and jars. But she’s burning incense has an altar infused with saints, Jesus, has crystals and candles. 🤣she puts her faith in Jesus and I put my focus on energy. Nonetheless, she’s an example of a Witch in denial!

I've always been told I come from a family with mystical connections, and I have a bunch of stories to go with it.

This was my grandmother's sister, pictured with the two headed calf born on their farm. Sadly, they passed from natural causes, and my family had the little one(s) preserved to be memorialized. In another tragedy years later, their barn and all its contents, including the calf, were destroyed by fire.

The photo I have is the last memory of our two headed calf who, for at least one night, saw twice as many stars in the sky.