a half thousand year old spell was featured in a special box; the graphic artist had gone all out. At the top of the box I had written that the "Old Woman" is a technical term for a priestess/magic worker.
Someone had cursed two men so they had gone to the Old Woman for help. She made wax dolls to look like both men. After a lengthy spell, the curse was transferred to the dolls and they were burned.
That helped me understand a bit more about sympathetic magic, but I'd hoped the article would have some way to remove the curse. Back to The Voodoo Doll Spellbook . It offered a whole chapter on protection. My relief turned to dismay when I realized I didn't have all the ingredients needed for the spells.
I turned to my notes. Over the years I'd jotted down spells and other interesting information. I picked up one folder and the page opened to the heading, "blueberries." I hadn't noted the source of the information, very unlike me to do so.
My own handwriting was hard to read, but I deciphered the information to mean that eating blueberries increases someone's ability to resist psychic attack. That's good; I eat blueberries every day. I blend frozen blueberries with oat milk to a thick consistency, and then add lactose-free yogurt and grated dark chocolate. Yummy and healthy to boot. The notes continued to say that blueberries can be used as a powerful protection charm. I already had a blueberry bush in a pot as protection. I didn't know how well it worked, considering that Aunt Beth had a blueberry bush growing at her door, and she'd been murdered.
Ignoring my stomach rebelling from thoughts of solid food, I googled in earnest to find information on how to counteract the pentagram, but couldn't find any spiritual path to which it could belong.
Worst case scenario, I could pick up the voodoo doll with a pair of kitchen tongs and throw it in the trash away from my house, then wash the step where it had been with salt. I had a bottle of citronella essential oil and could pour that on the step, too. Citronella was good for cleansing.
The pentagram still had me stumped. I was even at a loss as to what to google. I finally settled on "pentagram skull candles." That was not much help, turning up links to products or games. I was about to change my search terms when I stumbled across a 2006 article from the U.K. Daily Mail. Builders were demolishing a building that had been owned by Aleister Crowley, whom the article wrongly called a "Satanist." In the rubble they found a human skull and a flickering candle, and next to it, twigs arranged in the shape of a pentagram.
I was sidetracked for a moment by the article's errors. Aleister Crowley was an occultist, not a Satanist, but the article confused the two.
Back to google. "Skull inside pentagram" brought up only four entries, all about shirts. I found several entries for "skull with top removed." No luck there either. Google provided no clue as to what tradition it could be from. I figured my initial hunch had been right: it had been put there simply to scare me.
Rain started falling. I would have to do something before whatever nastiness was in the pentagram, if indeed there was any, leaked all over my lawn. The kitchen yielded a pair of tongs and a large plastic trash bag. I had no idea what to do, so would have to ad-lib. I put my car keys in my pocket, put on some rubber gloves and poured sea salt into the trash bag, and then sneaked outside, looking around for any sign of life. I reached for the doll, seized it with the tongs and then pushed it into the bag, sprinkled sea salt over the step and poured the citronella on too.
Careful not to step where the doll had been, I made my way down to the skull. The candles had all gone out; the rain had seen to that. I used the tongs to pick up the outside candles first, and threw them in the trash bag, then threw in the skull too as well as the tongs, and then the rubber gloves. I poured salt all over the area. The rain was already
Someone had cursed two men so they had gone to the Old Woman for help. She made wax dolls to look like both men. After a lengthy spell, the curse was transferred to the dolls and they were burned.
That helped me understand a bit more about sympathetic magic, but I'd hoped the article would have some way to remove the curse. Back to The Voodoo Doll Spellbook . It offered a whole chapter on protection. My relief turned to dismay when I realized I didn't have all the ingredients needed for the spells.
I turned to my notes. Over the years I'd jotted down spells and other interesting information. I picked up one folder and the page opened to the heading, "blueberries." I hadn't noted the source of the information, very unlike me to do so.
My own handwriting was hard to read, but I deciphered the information to mean that eating blueberries increases someone's ability to resist psychic attack. That's good; I eat blueberries every day. I blend frozen blueberries with oat milk to a thick consistency, and then add lactose-free yogurt and grated dark chocolate. Yummy and healthy to boot. The notes continued to say that blueberries can be used as a powerful protection charm. I already had a blueberry bush in a pot as protection. I didn't know how well it worked, considering that Aunt Beth had a blueberry bush growing at her door, and she'd been murdered.
Ignoring my stomach rebelling from thoughts of solid food, I googled in earnest to find information on how to counteract the pentagram, but couldn't find any spiritual path to which it could belong.
Worst case scenario, I could pick up the voodoo doll with a pair of kitchen tongs and throw it in the trash away from my house, then wash the step where it had been with salt. I had a bottle of citronella essential oil and could pour that on the step, too. Citronella was good for cleansing.
The pentagram still had me stumped. I was even at a loss as to what to google. I finally settled on "pentagram skull candles." That was not much help, turning up links to products or games. I was about to change my search terms when I stumbled across a 2006 article from the U.K. Daily Mail. Builders were demolishing a building that had been owned by Aleister Crowley, whom the article wrongly called a "Satanist." In the rubble they found a human skull and a flickering candle, and next to it, twigs arranged in the shape of a pentagram.
I was sidetracked for a moment by the article's errors. Aleister Crowley was an occultist, not a Satanist, but the article confused the two.
Back to google. "Skull inside pentagram" brought up only four entries, all about shirts. I found several entries for "skull with top removed." No luck there either. Google provided no clue as to what tradition it could be from. I figured my initial hunch had been right: it had been put there simply to scare me.
Rain started falling. I would have to do something before whatever nastiness was in the pentagram, if indeed there was any, leaked all over my lawn. The kitchen yielded a pair of tongs and a large plastic trash bag. I had no idea what to do, so would have to ad-lib. I put my car keys in my pocket, put on some rubber gloves and poured sea salt into the trash bag, and then sneaked outside, looking around for any sign of life. I reached for the doll, seized it with the tongs and then pushed it into the bag, sprinkled sea salt over the step and poured the citronella on too.
Careful not to step where the doll had been, I made my way down to the skull. The candles had all gone out; the rain had seen to that. I used the tongs to pick up the outside candles first, and threw them in the trash bag, then threw in the skull too as well as the tongs, and then the rubber gloves. I poured salt all over the area. The rain was already
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