So raise your chipped mug of burnt coffee. Toast to the hag, the crank, the crone, the unruly woman. Toast to the witch who spits, swears, and survives.
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She is for anyone who ever felt that magic belonged to the rich, the thin, the quiet, and the clean. The Vulgar Witch
Historically, these were the village witches who didn't have access to vervain imported from France. They used dandelions from the backyard, rusty nails, graveyard dirt, and their own spit. They were midwives, herbalists, and scolds. They were the women who, when the landlord came to evict the widow, stood in the road with a jar of urine and broken glass. So raise your chipped mug of burnt coffee
Vulgar ethics are situational, visceral, and fiercely protective of the vulnerable. The Vulgar Witch will heal a stray cat for free, then turn around and curse the neighbor who poisoned his dog. She will bake bread for a grieving friend, and with the same flour, draw a binding circle around an abuser's house. — End of Article — She is for