~ Midnight Farm ~

Monday, October 8, 2018

Friday, August 10, 2018

~ Knock Knock ~

just a few photos gleaned from Pinterest ~

~ Blessed be ~

Levora

Thursday, August 2, 2018

Witch! old witch! ~ how do you fly? on a broomstick my dear, flying high... Witch, old witch? ~ what do you wear? and old black dress and tangled hair... Witch! old witch! ~ what do you eat? little green bugs and pickled pigs feet... Witch, old witch ~ what do you drink? apple cider vinegar and midnight ink... Witch, old witch? ~ where do you live? by the old barn, if you give a fig...
Witch! old witch!! ~ do you live in a house? I live in a haystack, with a tiny grey mouse...
~ Old Nursery Rhyme Blessed be!

Lori

Wednesday, August 1, 2018

~ the 1st harvest ~

August ~ the month of the 1st harvest...
time to reflect on what we have sown over the past few months, and what we would like to reap.

I'll bake some bread today ~ bread machine of course, it's too hot for the oven!

I'll stitch today ~ make myself an herb-filled dream pillow...

I'll light my candles today ~ to thank the universe and elements for their abundant gifts.

I'll eat fresh today ~ picking only the best for my body and soul.

I'll honor my friends today ~ fur, fin & feather...and of course human-kind.

~ Lughnasadh/Lammas Blessings to you all ~

Blessed be!

Lori

Tuesday, July 24, 2018

Witch's Walk....

a rainy-day walk in our fields and deep woods... join me, ... won't you?

☾

Blessed be,

Lori

All over my feed I have been seeing questions along the lines of "Where will women who need help turn now?" They will turn to where help has been offered since time immemorial. To the edges and the hedges, to the woods and the wilds. There they will meet the women with twigs in their hair and soil under their fingernails. Hags they called them, cunning women, cut wives, and witches. For centuries, through all the twists and turns in the story of the struggle for power over the female anatomy these wise women have kept their hearth fires burning ready to comfort and warm the frightened, the grief stricken, the weary and the wounded. They offer medicine, but are not allowed to call it that. Medicine is only for the sterile white walls and echoing halls of hospitals and universities after all. Humans have advanced beyond the need for herbal brews and healing fungi, right? But when those hallowed halls are closed to many by beurocracy and politics still you will find her speaking to plants and tending her simmering cauldrons with loving hands and a patient heart. She is keeping ancient knowledge alive against such times as when progress is only available to a select few genders, races, and classes. The cycles will turn, as they always do. One group in power will give way to the next and onward we will go, ever trying to unravel the riddle that is human life and society. There will be dark days, and there will be days filled with glorious light, but still the wise woman will persist. Because she must. ~ Shared from a post by Sonia Horowitz ~ Artist credit to Rima Staines for her illustration of Baba Yaga

My Artist's Statement ~

...When an artist shows his/her work on the web, for the whole world to see, behind the work stands the artist...feeling vulnerable and naked to everyone, hoping that their work will not be in vain...
An Artist's work not only includes their imagination, ...it also includes a part of the Artist's soul, heart and sometimes,...blood.
(if I'm using sewing needles, that is!)
...With this in mind, reproducing an Artist's work without their consent or permission is almost like stealing their identity~which is illegal.
Please consider my work as 'inspiration' for your own...but use your own imagination, heart and soul to Design your own Original....
Thank you for understanding,
~Lori~

A Short Story...

Now, Little Dear, tell me,...how is it that you've found yourself at Midnight Farm? are you lost? can I help?

There, there...don't be frightened...I'll keep you safe from harm's way...

I'll not hurt you, love.....no...I'm harmless as a kitten....Please, let me show you around this old farm ~ take my hand...do you like stories? then let me tell you one...

...Long, Long ago...a little girl went walking deep into the woods at dusk...she was looking for mushrooms for Mother's soup....
She couldn't help but notice a huge, gnarled Ancient Oak tree.

She thought to herself how very peaceful it would be to rest a spell in it's branches, so she climbed as high as she could...so high, that she became tired and couldn't climb back down,...

There the litte thing sat, tethered to a strong branch, but scared silly...she began to cry, and a nearby Crow heard her...

...He thought she sounded beautiful,
(although he didn't know she was sad.)

He flew over to her, and asked if she was alright...she replied that she wanted to go HOME...he offered to take her to wherever her nest was, so she climbed onto his strong, sleek back....

Off they flew into the night, and as you might guess, they also became lost...They came upon a Wise Old Owl and asked him if he knew where HOME was...the Owl thought for a moment, looked around them and replied..."right Here, of course..."
...The little girl wasn't afraid anymore, and the Owl and the Crow took very good care of her ...

~ On quiet Autumn eves, when the Owls and the Crows gather deep in the woods at dusk to practice their cacophony of screaches, chortles and hoots...listen carefully for the sound of a little girl giggling quietly as she gathers Mushrooms....

©Lori Brechlin ~ 2009~

Why You Might Be a Witch
by Theodora Goss

Because sometimes you dream of flying
the way you used to.

Because the traffic light always changes for you.

Because when you throw the crusts of your sandwich
to sparrows in the public park, they hop close
and closer, until they perch on your finger
and look at you sideways.

Because as you walk down the street,
the wind plays with the hem of your skirt
so it swings dramatically around your ankles.

Because as you walk, determined and sensible,
your shadow is dancing.

Because a lot of people talk to cats
but for you they answer.

Because the sweetgum trees along the sidewalk
love to show you their leaves, sometimes even tossing
them in front of you, yellow veined red,
brown shot with green and yellow,
like children showing off artwork.

Because when you look up,
the moon is always smiling.

Because sometimes darkness closes around you
and you remind yourself that it’s all right,
you’ve worn this cloak before.

Because in winter you acknowledge
that snow is a blanket as well as a shroud,
and we must all sleep sometimes.

Because in spring you can hear the tinkling bell-sounds
that crocuses make, and the deeper gongs of the tulips.

Because the river waves to you in passing,
and you wave back.

Because even the brownstones of this ancient city
look at you with concern: they want to make sure you’re well.
You belong to them as much as they to you.

Because witches know what they are
and if I asked, do you remember?
You would have to confess that yes,
...you do.

Monday, October 8, 2018

~ Midnight Reading ~

Friday, August 10, 2018

~ Knock Knock ~

Thursday, August 2, 2018

~ Witch, old witch...

Wednesday, August 1, 2018

~ the 1st harvest ~

Tuesday, July 24, 2018

Witch's Walk....

So much more to read....