Kitchen Witch

My magic happens in the kitchen. There's nothing more fun for me than roasting a chicken or throwing together some soup, baking fresh bread and then eating it warm from the oven while the butter on top melts. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday because you get to spend days before putting together your menu, running around to different markets procuring your ingredients, and then you have to spend the entire day in the kitchen, making food taste delicious. It's heaven.

The only thing that makes being in the kitchen better is having fresh herbs to play around with as I'm working some magic. My goal this year is to plant an herb garden and be able to dry the herbs to use throughout next winter (if we get to stay and don't have to move again). I'm looking forward to it.

I thought you might like to see a photo of my kitchen witch/crone. She's carved from wood from the Black Forest and was bought in Germany in the 1960s where my grandparents were serving during their military years. My Aunt Jacki, my mom's little sister, kept this witch in her bedroom, which was directly across the hallway from mine when I was growing up. Each morning, I'd look into her room and see it sitting next to her bed, as I'd hustle down the stairs, afraid that something was going to come after me. (Her room was adjacent to the attic, which scared the bejeezus out of me). I've always felt sad that she had the witch in her possession, as it was my grandmother's before she passed away the year that I was born. Aunt Jacki was 16 when she lost her mom, which is why we were all living together. She was my favorite aunt, and always felt more like a big sister to me than an authority figure. She passed away when she turned 40, about 13 years ago.

When I was celebrating my marriage to Cute Husband at a party my parents threw for us, Aunt Jacki's husband came and brought along the kitchen witch, as I'd always mentioned how much it reminded me of growing up with her. I was teary when he gave it to me, and it's maintained a prominent spot in each kitchen I've since lived in, which now has numbered somewhere around 6 different locations in the past ten years. Seeing the witch reminds me of where I come from, and that there are women all around me, on this side of the veil and on the other, who inspire and support me daily.

I also like to think about what artisan decided to craft that charming and mysterious face on a witch, and why. She's become a talisman of sorts to me, and I've recently been leaving little bits of herbs in an offering before her while I light a candle and state my intention for the day. She just looks on, casting that smile, and let's me know that I share my sacred kitchen space with kind souls.