i’ve been researching how to magically protect and help my plants grow, and this is what i’ve found works for me.
i found three healthy acorns from the tree in my yard (i have a relationship with that tree so i think it’ll work better, but any willing tree should work) ask the tree for its protection and thank it once you’ve found the fallen acorns. take a needle and some thread (i used a pale, earthy green thread) and string it through the acorns. tie the thread tightly so that it makes a small circle, maybe the size of a tiny bracelet. hang the acorns somewhere in your house, i hang it over my sprouting plants but i’m sure above your alter or near your door would work too.
the oak is considered the king of the plant kingdom, from what i’ve read, and is known for its strength and care of the forest. i’m sure if its willing, it will protect your plants too! seems to work for me
~Ingredients: white or silver tea light float-able candles, quartz, (rose quartz), moonstone, shell or acorn if green witch), rose petals, bowl of water.
~Incantation 1: “By the brightest of days and the darkest of nights; let my inner-power rise by this light.”
~Incantation 2: “Silver moon above, let me learn your love. Fill me with your glowing light, and help me shine–full and bright.”
Place crystals in front of you with the candles; forming a crescent shape.
Each candle will represent a positive attribute of yourself, that you want to strengthen and draw power from.
As you light each candle, speak of this attribute or characteristic; and your intention with it. State Incantation 1 as you light each candle.
Focus on the light reflected in the crystals, visualize the light growing with strength and aligning with the light and power of the moon.
Touch your fingertips to your crystals and feel the warmth and light coming to you.
If using shells or acorns, feel the power of the sea/Earth joining you and the Moon goddess’ energies as well; complimenting, invigorating, and strengthening them. You may add these items to the offering bowl of you wish, or just have them incorporated into your grid.
Take the rose petals. For each one, state what you want to love more about yourself and the attributes represented by the candles.
You can light each petal by the flame of the complimentary candle if you wish, before dropping it into your offering/spell bowl of water for your ritual.
As the petals float in the water, draw the moon goddess’ love to you, while also offering up your love to her. The petals serving as both an offering as well as binding.
Place the candles in the offering bowl, visualizing the positivity expanding and being imbued with the love from the petals; all amplified by the water.
Stir three times while chanting Incantation 2.
Finish by stating: “As I will it, so mote it be. Love and strength come to me; three times three.”
Optional: allow all items to stay afolat in the “offering” bowl throughout the remainder of your ritual.
At the end of your ritual, preform a Full Moon Release spell; in which you light candles in representation of any negativity you wish to let go of. Place those candles in the bowl of water, envisioning the negativity dissipating and being drowned out, while the positivity washes over and replaces it.
These spells can be like “bookends” of your ritual.
Jon watched as his little sister ran into the arms of the blacksmith first and tried not to feel sad or remember the way the smaller version of her, years ago, used to run into his arms first when he got back from a hunt with his father and brothers. True, Jon and Gendry had just returned on the back of Rhaegal from the free cities after having been gone for two turns of the moon.
Still, Jon couldn’t place the moment when Arya would rather have run into the arms of this boy before his own, likely because it had happened during the years Arya and Gendry been trapped in the riverlands by war. The smith and Arya embraced fiercely for several long moments. Only then did Arya spot Jon.
Jon watched as Arya rushed his way next. He mussed her hair with one hand and wrapped his other arm around her tightly.
“Happy name day, little sister.”
“What took you two so long?!” Arya punched her brother in the shoulder after releasing him from her embrace.
“If that blacksmith doesn’t keep his hands off you,” Jon told her half-jokingly, referring to their long hug and nodding toward Gendry who looked like he was still waiting for Arya to come back to him, “I’m going to have to push him off Rhaegal next time.”
Arya laughed and punched him again. “Careful now, your Grace, that’s my blacksmith. If anyone’s going to drop him into the Narrow Sea, it’ll be me.”
Jon groaned in annoyance. “Arya, do not call me that.”
“If you’re both done discussing how you’re going to kill me…” Gendry spoke jokingly, though there was longing in his voice as he stared at Arya.
And just like that, Arya was back at the smith’s side, inspecting his travel sack. “What did you bring me back?” She asked eagerly.
“You’ll have to wait and see at your name day feast, m’lady.” Gendry teased, letting Arya go through the sack anyway to find the arakh he’d brought her from Vaes Dothrak and the sweet crab cakes Gendry had insisted they get from Braavos since they were the one dish from across the sea that Arya always talked about.
“I love it.” Arya said through a mouthful of crab cake, running her fingers delicately along the curved blade.
“The grassmen taught me how to forge them.” Gendry said proudly. His eyes twinkled, as he reached a hand forward to brush a lock of Arya’s hair away from where it’d fallen over her eyes and smoothed her hair back on her head tenderly.
Jon watched as the boy did so. Jon remembered how he’d used to muss Arya’s hair all the time when they were little. This was completely different, yet somehow Jon still felt replaced. He knew he’d always be Arya’s favorite brother, but Gendry was something more, like an extension of Arya, and she of him. He was glad she’d found someone she could be so happy with, so herself, but Jon still felt the loss. As he met his father’s eyes from across the yard, he knew they all felt it in one way or another.
“There’s more,” Jon heard Gendry reassuring Arya about her presents, as she led him away. Jon let them go.
“The only bloody present I wanted today was you back,” Jon heard his baby sister tell boy in a low voice.
Jon sighed and turned to tend to Rhaegal and to prepare for his little sister’s name day feast.
Later, at the feast, he watched as Arya accepted her other gifts. Some were from her family. Ned had given his daughter a pile of large tomes all written on Visenya, Rhaenys and Nymeria. Catelyn, a dress. Jon, himself, had given her a mace and throwing stars. Robb and Jeyne, a new bow beautifully carved out of weirwood with arrows to match. Arya had shouted in delight at all but the dress.
Some of the gifts were from lords who were in attendance, most of them seeking Arya’s hand. Little did they know…
Ned Dayne, the lord who seemed most smitten with the girl as well as the most oblivious to her affections for another, had given her a Dornish sand steed. Jon’s own brother, Aegon, who refused to believe Arya preferred a bastard blacksmith over a prince, had given her an abundance of jewels, the color of winter roses, to adorn her head, neck, ears, wrists and ankles. Arya had accepted the gifts graciously, had promised to race Dayne on her new steed, had promised to wear her new jewels at the next feast. Still, both suitors couldn’t hide their disappointment when Arya went immediately back to enthusiastically speaking with the man at her right side, the gifts all but forgotten.
Jon sat to Arya’s left at the high table and could hear their conversation. Gendry was telling Arya all about their travels. Jon was laughing along or adding in the bits Gendry forgot to tell. Arya made them both promise they wouldn’t go again without her.
From the corner of his eye, Jon saw Rickon slip in behind the seats, a long cloth package in his arms. The little boy whispered something in Gendry’s ear, sliding the package onto the latter’s lap, all while Arya joked with Jon once again about abandoning Gendry in the free cities. She looked to her left when Gendry didn’t respond with the expected laugh.
Gendry’s eyes were dark and expectant, as he looked to the girl beside him. Arya didn’t seem to notice.
“Another gift?!” She smiled wolfishly. Jon knew Gendry must have already given her the other artifacts Gendry had brought for her from their journey: a large leather-bound book written in high Valyrian, a soft and glimmering silver cloak one could wear to blend into their surroundings for low visibility, Valyrian steel throwing knives in different shapes and sizes as well as a bottle of Shade of the Evening from Qarth which Arya had coveted after for a time since her travels.
Jon knew all about those presents, but not of this one, and wondered, or could guess really, what it was. His throat tightened. Arya hadn’t had a newly forged sword since Jon had brought one to her and all her excited nine-year-old-ness.
Arya unwrapped the cloth from around the sword slowly. It was of a forest green material, and there were acorn shapes sewed onto the fabric in gold thread. Arya fingered the golden acorns and smiled softly and secretly up at Gendry who hummed a tune so softly Jon could barely hear them. Arya’s eyes surprisingly filled with tears, and she hummed along for a moment, a watery smile forming on her face.
“It’s a cloak” Gendry whispered to her, “to keep you warm. My forest lass.”
Before Gendry could stop her, Arya had leaned over and kissed him chastely on the cheek, right there in front of all the lords of the North as well as Arya’s suitors. Gendry reddened, then nudged the bundle in her knees with his own knee. “Keep on.” He told her. “There’s more.”
“There’s always more with you,” Arya teased happily, squeezing his hand with hers. Jon knew the cloak must have been a reference to something on their journeys but was not sure what, as there were some things about it Arya kept from even him.
When Arya finished unveiling the sword, she gasped. Gendry was studying her face apprehensively.
The sword was clearly made of Valyrian steel but the color was not the regular dark gray but rather a lighter icy gray-blue, eerily reminiscent of winter roses. Arya had gripped the sword by the handle and as it moved, the steel danced. It was the length of a bastard sword, like Longclaw. Jon could see the end of the onyx black hilt was carved into the shape of a gray and white direwolf. Nymeria. Inlaid at the top of the hilt just below the blade, on both sides, were large gems of dark gray that reminded Jon of the exact color of Arya’s eyes.
The hall had fallen silent and most everyone’s eyes were on the high table and the magnificent blade. Eddard watched approvingly, Catelyn with her lips pursed. Arya was now holding the blade out in front of her. She was staring at it in wonder.
“Gendry.” The name on her lips spoke volumes. Jon was quite sure Arya hadn’t sounded or look this amazed when he’d gifted her Needle. Then again, this was something else altogether.
Arya managed to tear her eyes away from the sword to gaze blearily at Gendry. “When?” Her voice was hoarse.
His cheeks pink, Gendry looked down at the table. “It’s taken me a good almost yeah and a half to complete it, but only because Tobho never did finish teachin’ me how…it took me a few different tries and a lot of steel but…”
Arya’s voice was wet when she spoke. “It’s perfect,” she said, but it sounded like I love you.
Gendry’s darkened, now hooded eyes bored into hers unapologetically.
Suddenly, without looking at him, Arya was carefully handing Jon the sword. He took it in confusion then watched, amused, as Arya hopped swiftly into the smith’s lap and kissed him full on the mouth, not giving a damn that the eyes of everyone in the hall was on them.
Between kisses, Jon heard her tell the smith, “You’re mine.” Jon’s smile faded, the words he’d told his first love, echoing harshly in his ears, and he remembered the girl who had been kissed by fire.
“I’m yours.” The bull agreed softly before kissing Jon’s sister again.
Jon knew the smith meant it. Nothing less could have made the boy respond to Arya’s affections here in front of everyone consequences be damned.
Before the smith allowed Arya to slide back into her seat, he clasped the green, acorn cloak around her shoulders, and she reveled in it as she took her sword back from Jon.
“Every sword needs a name.” Jon told his sister, a small, sad smile playing on his lips.
Arya smiled back happily.
She turned back toward Gendry who had a knowing look in his eye. “Mercy.” The two said at the same time.
Jon smiled wryly. He’d heard enough of their adventures to think he knew what they meant by it, but they seemed to understand the sword’s new name’s meaning much better than Jon did.
“What’s the first thing I should know about swords?” Arya had turned back to Jon and was smiling conspiratorially at him now too.
“Stick ‘em with the pointy end.” Jon chuckled as Arya laughed.
Behind Arya, Jon could see Rickon handing Gendry something else. There’s more, Jon thought in Gendry’s voice. There’s always more with you, Jon thought in Arya’s voice. How was it, Jon thought, that Arya, the most adamant of his siblings against marriage, had ended up finding someone who complemented her perfectly in every way, who made her happier than Jon had ever thought anyone had a right to be.
The guests of Winterfell, there for Arya’s name day, mostly went back to dancing and speaking, though there was now an awkward lull. Jon noticed both Ned Dayne and Aegon watching his sister through narrowed eyes, their pinks cheek, the first looking angrier than the other. Aegon, at least, had been warned. Both watched jealously as Arya received her next presents from Gendry.
Jon saw Gendry had procured a pretty leather scabbard into which Mercy fit perfectly. Next was a light gray shield, the silhouette of a blue-gray direwolf engraved onto it. Small but sturdy. Gendry had made that one himself too. Then the next present that made Jon’s little sister gasp with delight again. Jon gazed at it appreciatively. It was a helm made in the likeness of a direwolf. Jon remembered having seen a helm similar to it, but it belonged to the smith and was in the likeness of a bull.
Arya immediately put the helm on. It fit her head perfectly. She leaned over and gave her smith another kiss. This time, he didn’t try to stop her.
“I want to go test all of these out now.” She insisted then.
“As m’lady commands.” Gendry whispered back.
Arya insisted Jon accompany them. She wanted to try her hand at beating Longclaw.
He obeyed gladly. He might be king now, but Arya would always come first.
Gendry watched as they dueled. Both Gendry and Jon had insisted Arya wear her armor, use her shield and wear light steel gauntlets. Valyrian steel was sharp; one small mishap and she could be wounded gravely. Though they both knew very well, Arya was more like to wound one of them before wounding herself. Still, she was used to fighting with lighter swords. The extra protection could only help, not hurt.
Jon managed to disarm his little sister first. He knew better than to go easy on her. She’d clout him upside the head if he did. Besides, it was better for her to actually practice, not just play. Arya disarmed him the next two times, then he disarmed her again.
When it was Gendry’s turn to try his hand against hers, she disarmed him each time. When he was using Longclaw. When he picked up his war hammer instead, he disarmed her all three times.
Hours later, Gendry left Arya and Jon outside the forge to go wash up.
“I’ve never really see you fight before, little sister. Not truly.” Jon told her in admiration, as they sat outside the forge drinking wine.
“And? Am I better or worse than you thought?” Arya dared.
“Worse.” Jon earned himself a punch in the side. “No,” he said seriously. “You’re a fierce warrior.”
“A wolf,” Arya grinned wolfishly. She hefted her new Valyrian steel sword, in its scabbard, onto her lap. “And this is my claw.”
“Aye.” Jon agreed with a rueful smile. “It’s a beautiful sword, little sister.”
“Don’t tell, Gendry.” Arya joked. “His head’s big enough already as it is.”
Jon laughed. “I’m sure he doesn’t think it’s near as beautiful as you.”
He succeeded in getting Arya to blush. “Shut up. I’m not beautiful. I’m fierce.”
“What’s the difference?” Jon asked her, and she blushed some more.
“That boy loves you more than anything.” Jon told her truthfully.
Arya looked curiously at him. They’d never spoken before of her relationship with the smith.
“While we were gone…he missed you incredibly.” Jon admitted, remembering how Gendry either spoke of only Arya, or had this faraway look in his eyes indicating he was thinking of her. “I think he still suffers from when you were separated by the Hound. It haunts him to this day.”
Arya looked at her feet. “I know. I–.” She paused. “It won’t happen again.” She said firmly. “With any of us.”
Jon chuckled. “What about when you get married?”
Arya turned red now. “Who said-.”
“Oh, little one.” He lamented, taking her hand in his. “It doesn’t need saying.”
“I’m not little,” she argued, but looked pleased all the same.
Late that night, when the last stragglers at the feast were finally disbursing, Jon found Gendry outside the forge again. The smith was polishing Arya’s new sword, which had taken a bit of a beating earlier, or rather, had given a bit of a beating to Longclaw and the war hammer. Mercy still looked as if it had never been touched.
“Your Grace,” Gendry mumbled. He looked uncertain now, almost guilty.
“Come now, Gendry.” Jon said insistently. “After all we’ve been through together, there’s no need for formalities. You’re a brother to me now.”
They both looked at the blade, which was reflecting the fire that came from within the forge in a way that made it look almost as if the blade was on fire itself.
“This blade is beautifully wrought, Gendry.” Jon reached a hand out for the sword. Gendry handed it to him carefully by the hilt.
“Thank you.” The smith looked uncertain again though. “I know you gave Arry her first blade. I didn’t- I wasn’t-.” He paused. “She’s been needing a new sword is all.”
Jon blinked at Gendry, then smiled. “Of course. I’m very glad you made it for her with your own two hands. You’re very talented Gendry.”
The smith reddened, perceptibly so even under the glow of the firelight coming from the forge. Jon was weighing the sword in his hand and swinging the bastard blade around with grace.
“You must love her very much.” Jon said simply.
Gendry didn’t blanch at that nor even blush. “I do. She’s my family. She’s my-.” A pause. “She’s the best part of me.”
Jon nodded and finally met the smith’s eyes. “She always did love bastards best.” Jon joked.
Gendry couldn’t help but return the grin. “Thank the gods for that.” Gendry chuckled.
“When?” Jon asked.
Gendry looked confused now as he took the sword gently back from Jon and plunged it into its sheathe.
“When did you grow to love her as you do?” Jon clarified.
“I’d like to say the moment I meant her, but-.” Gendry smiled fondly as if remembering. “The very first time I saw her she was challenging two boys, both twice as big as her, with a wooden stick. She had them bleedin’ and cryin’. They wouldn’t even go near her for days after that.”
Jon laughed appreciatively, remembering when a girl, not unlike Arya, had challenged a different handful of armed men of the Night’s Watch, north of the Wall. Ygritte had been just as strong and ferocious. A pang of her absence stabbed him in the chest.
“I know you’ve heard all the stories,” Gendry continued, looking lost in thought at the memories. “I think it was when Amory Lorch’s men captured us, just after they killed Yoren.” Jon remembered Yoren, remembered the day he’d left the Wall to bring more recruits from King’s Landing. He’d never returned. “They got me first. It was my fault. I was a loud, lumbering bull, she told me. And she was right. I was so glad though. They hadn’t gotten her. I knew she’d be smart, go back to the others and get away with them.”
“But she didn’t.” Jon remembered this part of the story best because he’d been so mad too that Arya hadn’t fled.
“No,” Gendry looked pained. “She came back for me.” His voice was hoarse. “I was so angry with her.”
Jon nodded in agreement. She’d had a chance at that point. To get away. Maybe to be safe. Maybe to be free.
“But then…” Gendry took another long pause. It seemed as if some of the words were hard for him to speak. “No one had ever come back for me before.”
Jon knew the feeling. While he’d grown up with a family, unlike Gendry, he’d never felt equal to them. Except for Arya. She was the only one who made him feel like he truly had someone.
“When I yelled at her, she got mad at me. ‘I couldn’t leave you,’ she told me. ‘You’re my pack.’”
Jon’s throat grew dry. Arya had lost her pack. Robb. Sansa. Bran. Rickon. Even him, Jon. So she’d made a new one. With Gendry.
“I’d never felt like that before,” Gendry said in a choked voice. “After my mum died…they’d all gotten rid of me. Everyone I thought might’ve cared. But Arry…when they took me…she didn’t think twice about coming back for me. Even if it meant she’d be taken too, or killed.”
Jon remembered Ygritte then. And how she’d shot him, shot him only, even though she could have killed him. How she’d come back too. The smile they’d shared right before she died.
“It was that moment then,” Gendry said, unsure. “Or maybe all of them. I think I fall in love with her more every time I see her, if that’s possible.”
Gendry was the slightest bit pink in the cheeks now. “Sorry, it may sound stupid…”
“No.” Jon said fiercely. “I understand completely.”
“What about you?” Gendry asked suddenly, as if he was saying it before he lost his nerve. “When did you know you loved your wife?”
Jon started. Daenerys, he knew Gendry meant. But it was Ygritte he couldn’t get off his mind. Even now, years later.
“Maybe from the first moment,” Jon admitted. “Or every single time after, like you said. But most likely when she could have killed me but she didn’t, even though a part of her wanted to.”
Gendry blinked. “You’re not talking about the queen.” He said knowingly.
“No.” Jon said forlornly.
“You lost her?” Gendry asked.
“Yes,” Jon said simply.
“I’m sorry.” Gendry said sadly.
“Me too.” Jon replied. Then, “She wasn’t a noble either.”
Gendry looked at Jon cautiously.
“But she’s one of the best persons I’ve known. Nobility doesn’t make the person, Gendry.”
“Yes.” Gendry agreed guardedly.
“Arya’s mother wrote to me a few moons past.” Jon admitted. “She’s never done that before. Not even since she found out the truth of my parentage.”
“She asked that I legitimize you.”
Gendry looked startled. “Your Grace, I didn’t-.”
“I know you didn’t,” Jon interrupted. “But it’s your right all the same.”
“I didn’t grow up a lord.”
“No,” Jon agreed. “But I know a lot of lords. Not even half of them have your strength or your honor.”
Gendry didn’t have anything to say to that.
“Would you have me do it? You could marry her. Storms End would be yours.”
“I-.” Gendry looked pained again. “It’s not up to me, your Grace.”
Jon blinked understandingly. “Arya?” he called out loudly. “What would you have me do?”
A bang and a curse came from inside the forge. She’d been caught. But Jon wasn’t upset at all.
“Do it, you stupid bull.” She groaned, probably from whatever had fallen on her head when Jon had startled her.
Jon smiled at Gendry and reached out an arm to embrace him.
“Welcome to the family, brother.” Jon clapped Gendry on the back.
“Thank you, br-.” Gendry faltered on the word, but when he spoke again, Jon heard a smile in his voice. “Thank you, brother.”
Oh my goodness it’s my favorite time of the year approaching! Leaves are beginning to change and gold and fiery reds are beginning to seep into it’s green colors. Acorns sprinkle the ground as squirrels do their feverish dance across the lawns. So many delicious fruits and vegetables are in season! The air is cooling and bringing a breeze that is gently pushing summer away. This is the beginning of the end of the year as we enter the final season and the last quarter. It is a time of reflection of the past year, things to banish and improve on and to show gratitude and count our blessings. Especially in honor of the harvest and the togetherness that the holiday season brings, gratitude is an important aspect of this sabbat for me. A fantastic way to celebrate this sabbat is by hosting a pot luck for your circle and enjoying the equinox with a wonderful fall feast!
Mabon - Autumn Equinox
September 22nd (2016)
Orange For fall, I don’t need to say more haha.
Mustard yellow and Pea green I put these two together because this celebration also falls on a transition where most leaves are a lighter greenish yellow and I noticed in nature many things have the hues of a deeper mustard yellow or a yellowy pea green color. Also a lot of squash have these hues too.
brown undertones for fall and the soon to be bare trees
Herbs and Plants:
Squash carnival, fairytale pumpkin, acorn there’s many but those are the top 3
Sleepy Brown Bears
There is a lot in season. For vegetables, the biggest one that takes the attention for me is squash. There are many beautiful squash that are great for decoration and to eat. My favorite is the acorn squash, especially because of already the symbolism of the acorns everywhere on this equinox but also the nutty flavor of the squash and it’s green to orange colors. It is both highly decorative with perfect flavor and presence. Corn is also appropriate for this holiday and can be honored with a warm cornbread and carrots add great color and flavor to a lot of dishes.
For fruits there are apples, plums and grapes. Grapes and plums can be honored in wine and for apples there is cider. Apples of course also make fantastic pies and sweets.
For me personally I see this holiday as a fantastic alternative to Thanksgiving (since it’s a fall feast and gratitude is involved) and especially since a lot of things are in season many similar dishes can be served like corn bread, apple sauce, roasted squash and stuffing.
If there is meat being served I like to make candied bacon with brown sugar and maple syrup or bbq chicken with a bbq sauce lightly spiked with smokey bourbon with a hint of maple syrup.
Spices like allspice, cumin, cinnamon, cloves and ginger find it’s way into my cooking in both sweet and savory.
In the realm of sweets and treats there is a lot to work with. For dessert, especially because it’s pie season, one must make a pie or tart. Annually I make a caramelized apple tart with sparkling brown sugar on top. Apple cider donuts also make for a great dessert option. For treats there are the options of caramel popcorn, caramel apples, caramel itself, maple sugar fudge, maple butter cookies, butterscotch, dried apple chips, apple flavored candy. I also like flavors such as earthier nuts like peanuts and walnuts, but especially peanut butter with treats. It can be dangerous if someone has allergies so I usually omit it, but I like the nutty earthy flavor because it reminds me of acorns and burrowing seeds. Caramel apples is the prime treat for this holiday and can be decorated in a number of ways with either fall leaf sprinkles, chocolate sprinkles, chopped nuts, icing designs or candy toppings.
For drinks there are many options, but one I tend to go to the most is spiked warm apple cider. I warm it with cinnamon and spike it with Haitian rum I infuse with caramel. I see this as the height of brewing season where a lot of ciders and wines are beginning to get brewed especially since many fruits are in season. You can bring wine to the feast or even enjoy it with seasonal beers. I also see the colder part of the year as whiskey season and if you wish to honor the corn aspect of the harvest, bourbon is always a good smokey spirit to keep around.
Wooden flutes that are slower and somber like the oncoming cooler breeze.
hello! i have made my first spell bottle. i know it isn’t perfect, but i am proud of it !
🌼the money bee bottle🌼
intent: to attract both money & luck
ingredients: mint, oats, cloves, gold glitter, one acorn hat, a green candle, honey, some golden colored string and, of course, a bottle to put it all in ! (also anything you use in your personal craft such as crystals, candles, etc.)
first, fill the bottle with the dry ingredients in this order: glitter, oats, cloves & mint. as you fill the bottle, visualize your pockets filling with money. feel the weight of it. now pour in the honey. as it makes its way down toward the bottom of the bottle, it is passing through each part of your spell, giving it strength & making it really stick.
before you cork the bottle, give it a little sniff! it smells lovely doesn’t it? that is your magic at work!
after your little cork is secured, light up that green candle. pour its wax on the bottle, sealing it. as you do so, you can chant this little chant:
come my way,
silver & gold
coins & dollars
new & old
before the wax hardens completely, stick your little acorn hat in it! he will help pull in some luck (& also he is very cute.)
now for the gold string! tie it around the neck of the bottle, in a knot or a bow or whatever you like! as you tie it, say these finishing words:
like honey is to a bee
now money is to me!
there you go, my first little spell bottle. if you decide to try it out, please let me know how it goes or send me a picture ! if you’ve made any improvements please share them!
this was originally meant to be for when i reached 500+ followers, but i never found the right time to post it until i ended up reaching 600+ already, damn. so this is just a follow forever to start off the year! thank you so much for sticking around! you’ve all made my time in this godforsaken site an absolute blast. c:
☆ urls in bold are friends/some of my most favorite people ☆