I'm still riding down old dirt roads, but lately, I've been running into me. As a little girl, I crafted safe little places to run when my world was crashing to the ground. It appears that they have waited for me, still beating and thumping somewhere in the summer of 1970-somethin.’

To support this podcast, go to: https://www.patreon.com/southernfriedwitch

I've spent a lot of time, y'all, in my woods lately.  As a child, the woods were my momma, the cradle that saved me from trauma, and they still know my name.  Thought I'd share.  

Love y'all like chicken,
Seba

To support this podcast and keep me on the air, go to: https://www.patreon.com/southernfriedwitch

Behold, my field of f***s, and find that it is barren . . . and ready for planting. Let's talk about planting seeds, doing so as part of the Craft, and the responsibility therein.

Love y'all like chicken, Seba

To support this podcast, go to: https://www.patreon.com/southernfriedwitch

Hey y'all, I know I'm a little late this week.  I'm at the precipice of making a huge choice and I reckon my heart just couldn't beat right for a few days.  But I'm here, slinging mud off my bones.  So, snuggle up on the porch and let’s chat about how contextualization is just as important as intent when thinking through our Craft. A possum comes in to play, but y’all expect that, right? Me, a Witch, in context as a Southerner—as always.

Also, y’all send good thoughts to us down here in Alabama. The folks in charge have lost their damn minds. I’m a Witch living in a Wannabe Gilead—and it’s only getting worse. Standing for my birthright as an Alabama Witch and doing what I can to fight for my neighbors, my DIL, and my grandbaby. Don’t forget us? We’re still here.

Hey, y’all. I’ve been thinking about focus lately and how much energy it takes to just stay in place. It turns out, I’ve been treading water. And I’m exhausted. So, I’ve been doing a little manifestation work—creating a path that doesn’t exist quite yet. It’s work, to come out of trauma. Where we land can be a place that we design as witches.

To support this podcast, go to: https://www.patreon.com/southernfriedwitch

Hey, y’all. In a lot of ways, this is my “unsilencing of the lambs,” a love letter to Imbolc. Today’s episode is short, organic, and a bit of a ramble on the idea of a “blood and bone” impregnation, rather than fertilization. In my experience, the darkest nights of the season are also the time of the deepest growth—bony growth—of that which we have sown within ourselves.

Hey, y'all: I've dug deeply into this idea of witch shame.  You know, that feeling that comes after a crafting doesn't work, or something horrible happens and you didn't/couldn't stop it.  I also am currently standing in half ruins and wanted to chat with y'all about the critical nature of doing the repair work, rather than just walking away, from the things that matter to my little Witch heart.

Well, y’all: I wish I could say that everything is fine, but it’s really not. I’m still struggling to share what it’s like to go through trauma as a witch, and hopefully, that will resonate with someone out there. It’s incredibly difficult to practice my Craft right now, and so I’m letting myself go dormant. After all, the killing freeze is not over yet. And I hope to survive it.

Sharing my Freefunder is hard for me, as it means that I also automatically “out” myself under my government name. Please respect my boundaries on social media under that name and understand that I cannot—no matter how dire my situation is right now—”friend” everyone who would like to do so. I still have children to protect. Love y’all like chicken. And: I’m trying harder than y’all know. Seba

To offer help in this crisis (missing exterior wall, legal fees, broken electrical line): https://www.freefunder.com/campaign/back-on-her-feet

To support this podcast (and that matters more than you know right now), go to: https://www.patreon.com/southernfriedwitch

Well, y’all, by now you know that my world blew up a few months ago quite unexpectedly. Tonight, I am just leaning into the microphone to share how I’m walking through trauma as a Witch. When everything fell apart, I ran into the trees, and because of the bonds and covenants I have entered with the land spirits, the woods, my land, my ancestors, and my beautiful “Big Mama” (aka goddess), there was solace there. More than that, there is guidance and support. Tonight, I’m sharing the raw of my experience—so expect that. I promised, all of those years ago when I started this podcast, to tell you the truth. Sometimes, that’s a bloody mess.

This podcast episode hurt. If you noticed that I was gone for a month, this is why. I’m holding on, pushing through, railing at the sky and healing in increments. And I’m so sorry that it took this long to talk.

But here it is. It’s raw and all I have right now. I hope you’re still listening. Never give up.

Episode notes:

The fundraiser to repair my broken farmhouse: https://www.freefunder.com/campaign/back-on-her-feet

To support this podcast (critical right now) go to: https://www.patreon.com/southernfriedwitch

Beltane cupcakes!

What’s a kitchen witch to do when her favorite pickled ginger is not in stock? You know the answer. Here’s my version of pickled ginger, made special with a bit of dried hibiscus flowers from the garden.

Winter nights are rough, y’all.  I’m a spring baby and ridiculously seasonal, meaning I may seem fine, but deep down inside I’m sobbing in my pillow like a child.  My grandma was like this, too—just cannot seem to get right in the colder months. 

Okay, y’all. Sometimes we are just flat out worn down by the world and don’t have the time to make EVERYTHING from scratch. So here you are, beaten by work and chilled to the bone and hungry as hell. Well. If you have frozen ravioli, cheese, and some sort of pasta sauce: you’ve got this.

Y’all, it has taken me 53 years to make pepper jelly. I’ve made almost every other kind under the sun, but the omission of this one has almost lost my Southern card for me. That’s alright: better late than never.

For about three years, I was under a cornbread curse. Yup. I couldn’t remember the ratios of the recipe, more than anything, but also tried to use an off-brand flour and baking powder. No matter what I did, the cornbread (while okay) was not the one that made me swoon.