simply rain

Cleansing Your Space Without Smoke


  •   Your first and most simple way to cleanse without smoke would be to make a salt water solution (Fresh Salt Water from a Beach is a big Plus! Or reuse that snow/ Rain Water)
  • Simply mix the salt to your water until it dissolves fully.
  • Essential Oils are completely optional, Make your solution your own this is nearly a “base” Recipe but also very effective on its own.
  • Spray all around your Home, Altar, Car, Body to clear the congested energy.


 ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ OPTION ONE ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~

Boil water, And Add herbs that work with the intention of your cleanse.

  • Sage- Clears ALL energys
  • Sweet Grass- Think “Sweet” promotes love
  • Rosemary- Love, Cleansing, Protection, Money  Your all purpose herb
  • Cinnamon: Protection, Love
  • Lavender: Peace, Tranquility, Happiness
  • Cloves: Exorcizing, Banishing negativity
  • Rue: Exorcizing, Expelling, Hex Breaking
  • Chamomile: Keeping, And Promoting peace, Happiness
  • Basil: Luck
  • Angelica Root: Protection against Malevolent spirits

(Research different herbs, Mix and Match to make YOUR Perfect blend)

Boil all of of your herbs together, Until you get a rich, Dark Color. Use this time to “add” Your intentions and energy’s into your mixture. Make your magic Happen! Take the pot and “Smudge” with the steam. All nooks, All cranny’s, All corners, All Rooms.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Now here is your “Second Option“  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

ONCE THE MIXTURE HAS REACHED ROOM TEMPERATURE use your decoction as a Floor Wash. You can add any detergents, Or Fragrances at this time

Clean all your floors, Base boards, Window Sills, What ever feels right, Although I would always start with the Floor.

(You may want to dilute in clean water, As some herbal mixes can stain)

This gives your Home Cleansing some extra OOMPH

You can dispose of your mixture Naturally, Outside, Or down the drain, Its up to you. This is an eco friendly solution.


“You do not recognize me?”
Marius bent hastily down. It was, in fact, that unhappy child. She was dressed in men’s clothes.
“How come you here? What are you doing here?”
“I am dying,” said she.

Day 212: Healing with Stumpwater

Stumpwater, that is water that has collected in the hollow bowl of a tree stump, is an interesting part of folk materia medica. Its use can be found throughout the Ozarks and the Appalachians, and I wouldn’t be surprised if other cultures were to use the mystical substance as well. Stumpwater is mostly connected to the healing of certain dermatological issues like warts, rashes, and sometimes even freckles. But the water has also been used in the making of herbal infusions. The idea being that the stumpwater has more power than regular water because it is elevated above the rest of the land.

Vance Randolph mentions stumpwater several times in his “Ozark Magic and Folklore,” here are a few quotes:

“The skin disease called tetter is treated with spunk water or stump water simply rain water which happens to be retained in a hollow stump.”

“When a hillman tries to remove warts by applying stump water he repeats this formula: Stump water, stump water, Kill these — warts! The dash represents the number of warts that the patient has, and it is essential to state this number correctly. If a man says six when he has only five warts, the warts will not be cured, and another one will appear in a few days.”

“Most of the old-timers believe that a woman should never be bathed ‘all over,’ or her bedding completely changed, for nine days after the child is born. Some say that the palms of a child’s hands should not be washed until the child is three days old to do so washes away the infant’s luck, particularly in financial matters. It is always best to bathe a new baby’s head with stump water; if ordinary water is used, the child is likely to be prematurely bald when it grows up.”

One can say that most of the lore behind stumpwater likely came into the Ozarks from the Appalachian people. A similar wart-cure can be found in the book “A Tennessee Folklore Sampler” by Ted Olson and Anthony P. Cavender:

“To remove a wart go to an old hollow stump that contains water and wash the hands or warts in the stump water. After doing this, walk home without looking back and the wart will go away.”

A few more Appalachian uses of stumpwater come from the wonderful book “Folk Medicine in Southern Appalachia” by Anthony Cavender:

“To treat and prevent pimples and blackheads, the face was washed with buttermilk, a solution of Epsom salts or soda, human urine, stumpwater (water collected in a tree cavity or stump, also called ‘spunkwater’), a decoction made from witch hazel or ratsbane leaves, or dew of the first day in May.”

“Stumpwater, buttermilk, dew of the first fay in May, and a cow manure facial also were used to remove freckles.”

“Southern Appalachian folk medicine is abundant with beliefs about contracting and removing warts. Some of the more frequently mentioned naturalistic remedies were rubbing warts with castor oil, a chicken gizzard, a slice of Irish potato, bean leaves, or stumpwater and inserting a hot needle into the warts.”

In my last post on the interactions between white and Native medicines I mentioned the use of stumpwater as a practice shared by both the white and Cherokee communities. Who gave the practice to whom is still debatable, but the fact remains that both communities considered stumpwater as an important part of the materia medica. Frans M. Olbrechts, in “The Swimmer Manuscript” mentions a Cherokee medicine man who only used water in healing:

“Spencer Bird, an old medicine man, now dead, used to rely on the sole purifying power of water. The informant who told me this vaguely hinted at the probability of the water being some ‘special water,’ such as that scooped out of a stump (‘stump water’) or even out of the stump of a lightning-struck tree.”

The use of stumpwater bears some semblance to other folk medicines such as the use of certain “flying” plants, meaning plants that are growing out of trees, or rock faces, that have never touched the ground. The power here is that the “flying” plant has some mystical connection to the sky, and is therefore given an added potency as a medicine or magical item. A common example of this idea is the mistletoe plant, which has been considered a mystical or magical plat partially because it hangs in the air without touching the ground. There’s a tradition throughout the Ozarks and Appalachians (and one can see the original belief throughout Europe) that the mistletoe will only be effective in protecting the home when it is cut and never allowed to touch the ground. We can see the same concept with the stumpwater, the idea here being that the water fell from the sky and hangs in the air, not touching the ground. The power of the stumpwater then isn’t in the chemical makeup of the water itself, but in the fact that it has been given a magical quality by being set apart from other puddles, creeks, and water sources.

  It’s been raining and somewhere outside, water drips onto a tin and it’s really quite annoying
  It’s been raining and somewhere outside I’m sitting in the flowerbed and trying to peek through the curtains
  It’s been raining and somewhere outside I’m crying in the flowerbed while peeking through the curtains
  The rain doesn’t make me feel pure like I thought it would, to be honest
  The rain is simply cold, and wet of course, and it falls onto my skin, relentless in its lack of consideration for me and my feelings
  I’m not going to say that it reminds me of you, but well, really-
  In this story the knight isn’t a handsome man on a mighty steed, but a beautiful woman with the whole world in the palm of her hand
  My whole world in the palm of her hand, if we want to get specific, but what’s the difference?
  In this story there is a lot of overused imagery and a girl locked away in a tower
  In this story the knight with the world in the palm of her hand looks up at the tower-
  Cocks her head to the side, curious, meets the girl’s eye-
  And then keeps on walking when she realises the girl locked away in the tower isn’t a princess
  But not before cutting herself off a lock of impossibly long hair
  It’s been raining and somewhere outside, you hear the dripping of water onto a tin
  It’s been raining and when you look outside you see the flash of a colour that might be familiar
  It’s been raining and somewhere outside you hear crying, but you pay it no mind because you do not recognise the sound
  It’s been raining and you sit in front of a warm fire, and fiddle with a lock of hair you found in the bottom of a bag with rubbish and other forgotten things
—  Julia Gorst (cross posted at @poetrylesbian)
The word ‘I’ in the sentence “I am happy” has exactly the same force as the word ‘It’ in the sentence “It is raining.” There is no ‘it’. There is no ‘I’. Rain simply falls. Happiness simply arises.
—  Richard Sylvester
Window to an Ocean's Soul

self portrait
window to an ocean’s soul
turmoil underneath triumphs
pain swirled in a tornado of love
give myself to myriad worlds
an artist who cannot follow
poetry writes my spirit
music how I do worship
celebrate and dance
chant to life’s splendid chorus
captured by magnificence of sunsets
light upon darkness
immerse me in a universe of orbiting stars
play me like a record
I go round and round and round
riding on an astonishing planet
falling in love with everything
beyond my abilities to control
feelings and emotions explode
perhaps passion is volcanic
maybe I’m simply stormy
warm summer rain on a blue-sky day
ceaseless…undulating…ever changing
like time and tides and waves

FollowCB | Copyright 2017

anonymous asked:

Would you rather kiss Jungkook in the rain or at the top of a carousel?

Omg that’s an amazing question 😻😻😻 I’d rather kiss under the rain 🙈🙈🙈 simply because I dig “wet jungkook” so damn much. NO PUN INTENDED LOLL there’s just something so sensual about him whenever his hair and his neck is wet zdsgsgshzjzjk Being on top of a carousel might make me scared, as I never been there before loll 😂😂😂 but I’d gladly kiss jungkook in the rain ❤ tbh , it’s one of the things I absolutely want to do at least once in my life ,just the kissing in the rain part lol JUNGKOOK WOULD NEVER KISS ME LMAOOO 😂😂

Originally posted by ky-ngsoo

anonymous asked:

What part of the Surface are you from?

Well, I’m from England, actually! I lived just outside of London, in fact. It’s probably why I enjoy being in New Home like I do. It reminds me of the bustle and admittedly congested streets back home…

Though, I don’t miss the rain. Simply was too much of it…

“You were right! Are you happy now? He was screwing around with another girl and I..I was nothing to him. Congratulations.” Bella couldn’t tell whether her tears had fallen or the rain was simply drowning everything else out–in the end she was soaking wet and shaking as she stood before the male. He’d known about her boyfriend, but when he tossed her aside after being caught she was at a loss, so unsure of herself.

rebellioncaptain  asked:

“You’ve made your decision then?”

MEME. // @rebellioncaptain

         seeing his tío outside the makeshift barracks had been unexpected, but not entirely a surprise. part of those stories that his uncle had shared throughout the years of being in the rebel alliance, filling in the gaps that his mother would sometimes avoid ( the good, the bad, the ugly ), had filtered through poe the impression that his uncle, though content with his life on yavin iv with bodhi, was restless.  

            ❝ i have, ❞ he said simply, feeling the cold rain pelt down the back of his neck and down his collar. now that he stood outside, he felt the weight, but also the energy of his word. after turning back once towards the door a new path, one that made him heady with purpose, poe locked eyes with his uncle, feeling as fevered a conviction as he’d ever felt run through him. 

                    ❝ i’m joining the resistance. ❞

tcnebrism  asked:


kisses  ➝ @tcnebrism. ( 1/5; still accepting. )

the wind is harsh and it screams against the side of the building,  it rattles the windows, drowns out the rain as if the rain is simply as gentle as ever.    ripley flinches,  nostrils flare. the hotel is as warm they permit.   it’s no resort and it’s the best they could get,  especially on this small world colony.    a painting of a greener world is trying to convey a lighter scenery then the one that’s just outside their window.   it’s not even sand,  it’s just a dark world, intangibly covered by clouds,  mud that’s always trying to combat the rain by turning back into dust;  and ultimately failing.   it’s the last habitable planet until they reach the xenomorph’s true origins.    there is absolutely no species that are built to simply survive in harsh,  unfair conditions,  preying on other species  ——–  no,  no;  devouring

ripley’s head is in her hands,  fingers actually curling into her temples as if she can press away the memories she’s worked so diligently to repress.   at first glance,  she’s still,  she looks annoyed  ——–  but she hides her turmoil well.   the paradigm survivor will always excel in the basis of all survival instincts and even normally she’s better at hiding all of her emotions than just this.   she has emotions she can conjure up,  she’s just forgone them.

his voice also makes her flinch,  this small movement,  the twitch of a long finger,  the spasm of a leg muscle;  that one could be dismissed by the drawstring pants she’s wearing.

ellen ripley swallows,  removes her head from her hands.   dark eyes look upward,  she doesn’t flinch again,  but he’s closer than she expected and there’s a glint of surprise in dark, dark eyes.   his eyes are also dark and in the dim light of this room,  both their eyes are black and it’s suddenly something they have in common.   he’s playing those games,  don’t underestimate her,  she’s far more intelligent than she ever verbally lets on.

there’s one thing she wants and tomorrow she’s going to rip apart a whole planet to ensure she gets it.   don’t worry about my loyalty,  she thinks and radiates it to him in her confidence, in the way those dark eyes fail to stray from his wary features.   morality is suddenly lost to her,  it’s true pattern darkened by weyland-yutani’s actions,  by all the lives lost because one company just had to make sure a new species was brought back alive.

she’s in far too much pain,  she has a new family to think about and her current moral implications are only dictated by one thought:   end the xenomorphs.

long fingers reach up and it’s gentle in it’s touch,  but not to be gentle for him exactly,  but to make sure he understands she wasn’t going to hurt him.   she pulls him towards her.

you must understand that loyalty was suddenly sealed with a kiss.

anonymous asked:

A shivering, soaking wet, and crying Killian curled up against the wall of an alley, far from his forest and unsure how he'd gotten here. He buried his face in his knees, trying to stay somewhat warm in the rain. (woodland-sweetheart) (i hope this is okay, i'm shy)

(Awe no dude it’s okie :D!!)

Victor was walking around by his castle, surveying the area to make sure it was taken care of

He decided to go into the woods despite the rain, him simply snapping up an umbrella

Soon he heard crying as he went over and found Killian

“Hey, sweetheart are you ok?” He cooed softly

Rainy Days with Michael

Request: Could you do a rainy day with mikey? x -Anon


The sound of rapid taps of rain on the window always seemed to calm you. Michael was in the bedroom, probably sleeping. You sat on the couch, scrolling through your social media. It was a normal day, just chilling. You were focused on a post on twitter when you noticed the sleepy haired boy shuffle his feet towards the kitchen. 

“It’s raining.” He simply stated to himself. You heard the sound of running water and then coming to a complete stop. He walked into the living room, now fully awake. He had red rimmed under his eyes, he was slouching, and his hair was disheveled. This was your favorite Michael, all disoriented and messy. The rain was coming down a bit harder, the sound of the taps becoming more prominent. You dropped your phone onto your chest, stretching out your arms. 

Michael took the hint and set down the glass of water onto the coffee table, laying beside you. He took his time getting comfortable, shifting a little bit here, moving his arm there, and throwing a leg over your waist. Running your fingers through his hair, he rubbed patterns onto your thigh. Thunder roared making Michael stiffen a little. You chuckled as you hugged him tighter, making him relax. You loved Michael, and you also loved the rain.


Photographer Matt Black grew up in California’s Central Valley. He has dedicated his life to documenting the area’s small towns and farmers.

Last year, he says he realized what had been a mild drought was now severe. It had simply stopped raining.

“It was kind of a daily surreal thing to walk outside,” Black says.

The focus of Black’s photography, he says, is on documenting the drought’s impact on communities that he believes rarely receive the attention they deserve.

A Landscape Of Abundance Becomes A Landscape Of Scarcity

Photo credit: Courtesy of Matt Black