Falling towards fall

18 Aug

Richard is sad. Summer is almost over. And we have not had much summer, neither in terms of sunshine nor in terms of summer passtimes. Well, that’s life for you. And while I am sad that my guy is sad, I am also giddy, because…¬†fall is coming, complete with apples and nuts and skulls and bones and dead people drinking blood and – you get the idea.

So, all you people who like fall (and especially Halloween) as much as I do, Magaly is hosting her fourth annual Witches in Fiction event, called “Crafting Blooming Howls”. I can’t promise anything, with my mad schedule and all, but I will try my best to get something done in time for the event – which is October 17, in case you were wondering – and most of all, I urge you to go ahead and party!!!¬†

(More updates as we inch towards the event.)

Cursed you are, and hexed you’ll be

13 Aug

I took a two-step approach concerning the guy I talked about yesterday. But first, the obligatory take on “black” magic. I know not everyone is for hexing your way through life. And even less people recommend hexing on behalf of other people. There are always, and in these cases even more so, plenty of things to consider and precautionary steps to take, and when meddling with other people’s lives a witch must be even more aware of the fact that she may not know everything and may end up giving a spell to someone who uses them not in the way they promised to. (That is one reason I never, ever give away charms that might be used in a harmful way, and often put special protection on incense etc. I make for others. My personal decision.)

Glad we talked about that. Now, my two-step approach.

First, I prepared a worst-case scenario spell to prevent him from sexually abusing her. I know, that sounds far-fetched, but he has somehow gotten it into his head that once she is pregnant she will stay with him instead of getting a divorce, and with a history of physical abuse… anyway, I just wanted to be on the safe side. Always planning for worst-case scenarios this witch is.


This is a real kitchen witch spell. All you need is a condom, a black marker and some hot spices – anything works, I used cayenne pepper, chili flakes and black pepper. I worked this one based on something I found in “Utterly Wicked” and changed it to suit my needs:

  1. Write the name of the target on the condom.
  2. Fill the condom with your spices.
  3. While tying three knots into the filled condom, chant/hex: “This prevents you from touching [name] against her will. You will be physically incapable of harming her.” (Sorry, no pretty rhymes here. Not that kind of girl.)
  4. Leave it on your altar for a few hours or over night (I put it with the firy element, obviously.)
  5. Get rid of the condom by throwing it in a public wastebin, and don’t look back.

(Random fun fact: I always know a spell is well-charged when the cats try to steal it – they like the energy levels, it seems. Trying to steal this one was not the best idea, poor cats. ^^ )

Second, I wanted a spell to reflect all his negativity and anger and hate directed at her back at him. Once again I turned to my kitchen for inspiration…

IMG_0254What you cannot see in this picture is a tiny clay poppet with a picture of him attached inside the jar. You will need some modelling clay or putty (preferrably black or grey), a picture (or anything, really) of your target, an empty jar with a tight-screwing lid, some tin foil, a length, respectively, of black, grey and black ribbon and a black marker.

  1. Line the jar with tin foil, reflecting side facing the inside. Make sure there are no holes, tears or gaps. Takes sume fumbling, but is worth the effort.
  2. Make a tiny clay/putty poppet of your target – mine is a blog with a broad base for proper standing, you don’t have to be an artist to do this. Include your picture or target-related object.
  3. Insert the poppet into the jar, screw the lid on. Chant/hex: “[Target], you are trapped by your own hate. All negativity you send out flies right back at you.”
  4. Wrap each length of ribbon around your jar three times counterclockwise and secure it with a tight knot. Chant/hex: “You are bound in darkness, [target], by your own hate and anger.”
  5. Write a pentagram on the lid and circle it counterclockwise with your black marker.
  6. Put the jar on a shelf where it cannot be broken by accident and keep it there until the situation has resolved itself.

Both spells require a solid grip on your emotions, mind you, least you end up causing more harm than necessary. Yesterday I did not trust my own emotions until after two hours of solid scrubbing. But since we all know that taking back a spell is incredibly hard at the best of times (and more often, impossible), I would consider it mandatory to not hex in anger.

Need your advice

12 Aug

Okay, I need your advice. Nothing much in the way of witching, just plain old boring everyday life.

A friend is being physically abused by her husband. Yes, that friend. Obviously things have gone south since she discovered the affair. I told her to go ahead and get a divorce, but a religious leader told her she could not divorce him unless she presented eyewitnesses of his affair. (Any idea which religion she belongs to? Yeah, that one.) Funny fact is, no one else was in the room when they got their game on. I wonder how that happened?

I have told her to go to the police, but she does not want to – after all he is her husband. So I have recommended she should write down every assault with as much detail as she remembers, have a physician examine and document every bruise and injury, and keep it somewhere safe for the day she finally decides to go to the police.

I have also told her repeatedly that she can call me, any time of the day (or night), I’ll get in the car and come get her. So far she has not called – she says teh moment it happens, she is in shock, and when she tries to get out of the flat he drags her back inside and physically prevents her from leaving. So I have suggested she should write down my number (or anyone else’s she trusts), put the paper in her pocket and the next time things get out of hand run to the neighbors immediately, from where she should call first the police and then me. That way she has witnesses as well as protection.

The problem is, I cannot get her to see that this is a serious matter – everytime he confesses his love for her and begs her forgiveness, she is willing to believe him. She does not want to believe that things will only get worse, although his attacks have been escalating recently. Her family is not willing to support her in this matter, and friends have started turning away from her because “she is always complaining and not willing to change her situation” – yes, I *do* understand that they are trying not to enable her, but I am afraid of what may happen if she feels she has no one to turn to.

This thing is driving me mad. I try to listen and support her, but that is not my strength, really. Every time she tells me another of his follies, I go home and try not to cry or punch someone. Now that the moon is waning again, I do have a tiny present for him waiting to be completed as soon as I have the time (and nerve), but I am wondering – what else can I do to keep her safe?

(Yes, I’ll share the spell – and no, it is not “black magic”, at least not strictly speaking. I am convinced that most people are not evil, but merely victims of their own history.)

These are not my mother’s thumbs

22 Jul

Nope, definitely not. While mine are brown and able to kill almost everything, my mother has a gift with plants.

She also probably has a sadistic streak, for she sent three of her darlings to our place for torture and slow death.


My very own avocado plant.


A tiny orange tree.


And wine. The picture is blurry because it is trembling with fear.

(I keep trying to explain that wine should only enter our home in bottles.)

I’ll do my best to keep the plant babies alive, but their chances are… well, surprisingly neither apple nor currant nor blueberry have died so far. Maybe I can help breed resilien and strong post-zombie-apocalypse (flesh-eating) plants…



Update: The marvellous glossary

16 Jul

If you look carefully, you will find a new category at the top of the page: Diandra’s marvellous glossary. It may help you learn a bit more about your favorite German Knusperwitch.

Ringfingers and reproductive organs, the seven-year-anniversary rant

15 Jul

Today is our seven-year anniversary. And originally I was going to make you nauseous by once again swooning about my perfect guy and how we are disgustingly romantic together, and sometimes plain disgusting. Last night I licked his elbow, and that is no euphimism.

Instead I thought I’d amuse everyone with a quick rant.

Last Saturday we went out in pursuit of a fancy dinner. We tried a new Indian restaurant in Cologne. It was nice – not as good as our go-to place, but that’s still not bad. We stuffed ourselves with a four-course meal complete with vanilla icecream and mango sauce. And then, because I love sharing our boring everyday adventures, I posted this picture to FB:

“Celebrating seven years of disgusting romance with Indian food. And while we were staring into each other’s eyes, the Duck stole our dessert. ^^ “

Not too creative, nothing exotic. You all know the Duck, right?

Then the annoying comments started pouring in.
“Has he finally proposed to you?”
“I bet you were testing wedding venues.”
” When are you getting married?”

I told them to stop asking, to no avail.

To make things clear, I followed up with this:
“For the records: For f***’s sake, stop asking us whether we have “finally made it official”. First, it’s none of your business. Second, don’t you think we’d let you know? And third, we have had seven great years. We plan on having at least seventy more. And we really don’t have to get married in order to love and cherish each other. Should we ever decide to tie the knot, we’ll tell you when (and if) we think you have to know. Just back off and smell the flowers and stuff.”

To which a friend said, “You sound as if they really struck a nerve.”

I was tempted to strangle her on the spot. But they did, kind of.

Because, honestly, the whole their-nose-deeply-buried-in-my-business attitude offends me.

I am not secretly pining for him to “ask the question” and to finally get married (because, after all, women get married, the same way that furniture gets bought).

I have not chosen a white dress or spent sleepless nights planning floral arrangements.

There are no baby clothes hidden in the back of our wardrobe, “just in case”.

To me – and this is important, I am not judging anyone else’s decision – marriage is mostly an organizational issue. I know some women are different. Some of my best friends have had amazing weddings, which they spent months planning and preparing, and glowed as if it really was the best day of their lives (so far – it is supposed to be even better after that, right?).

I have seen others move in together or marry in a hurry, only to have devastating fights and break-ups not even a year later.

But I don’t see myself worrying about dresses or shoes or cake – okay, maybe cake – or spending days handpainting invites and nametags. Should we get married (not saying we will, we could spent the next seventy years in unmatrimonial bliss!), there will be cake. And probably real food as well. And of course we will tell the world immediately – as if I could ever keep a proper secret! But it simply is not our focus, and I don’t see how our ringfingers or reproductive organs are anyone else’s business.

For seven years I have been swooning (and at times complaining) about Richard. Many of you have been there with me, probably gagging at all the sticky candy love. For four and a half years I have been cooking most of his meals without ever being tempted to poison him. We have shared everyday life, from sore feet to hangovers to shitty days at the office to terrible moods, including shouting and tears. And we still don’t want to kill each other. When he is home in the evening, instead of getting shit done we spend time together on the sofa cuddling – every single night. (At this rate I’ll never finish the next novel. )

What will change if we get married? First there are the tax breaks. And I’ll get to pull the plug if he ends up in hospital as a human vegetable.

Yes, I am that romantic.

What is my stance on all those nosy, hopefully wellmeaning people? Quite simple: No, they don’t get to interfere with our personal decisions. They don’t get to imply that we are getting too old to marry, or have kids. (We haven’t even decided whether we want any.) We still have tons of stuff to do – see the world, take the pictures, write the stories. Getting married and changing diapers has not even made it to my top ten to-do list for the next years. Doodling dirty jokes, on the other hand… So, there’s plenty of stuff they can ask about if they want to know more about our lives.

“Where are you travelling next?”
“Has he bought a new camera?”
“How long do I have to wait for the next short story?”
“Are you really into dirty doodles?”
“What about your plan to make the ultimate orange and cream cheese cakepops?”

I will gladly share the answers to these and many more questions with everyone (somewhere sunny; we’re still negotiating; almost done; maybe; I’ll share the recipe if I ever make it back to the kitchen).

(Now they have to come up with their own questions, bummer.)

But if people continue to pester us about our personal stuff, I’ll retaliate by asking wildly inappropriate questions about their own personal lives:
“Have you pooped today?”
“I bet you haven’t slept with your girlfriend in ages.”
“Does your husband like your new wrinkles?”
And if they even think about touching my belly – I am fat, not pregnant – I may try to break their favorite finger.

Source of life

3 Jul

I am the Mother of the Ocean
All life comes from me
At the end, all life returns
I bring peace
I bring destruction
Hear me sing

Test EOS400 053


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