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LavenderHedge Witch in Ballarat, Victoria | Aromatherapy service



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LavenderHedge Witch

Locality: Ballarat, Victoria

Phone: +61 408 290 892



Address: Soldiers Hill 3350 Ballarat, VIC, Australia

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13.06.2022



09.06.2022 Witches &Old Souls

06.06.2022

20.05.2022 I’ve been using the time of the waning moon to finish of some craft projects I was working on ( never like doing the fiddley bits, darning ends etc) and cleaning out things no longer of use to us. Even some weeding and pruning that I put off for way to long Friday the 1st of April at 5:27 pm (Melbourne time) is the next new moon, a time for setting your intentions, a time to put those plans you’ve been making into reality, a time for new projects (and I have plenty lined up) . Have you started thinking of your intentions for following lunar month?



30.04.2022

21.04.2022

19.01.2022 Never underestimate the difference you can make. #bekind https://www.dollysdream.org.au



17.01.2022 This is my beautiful hydrangea, when I moved into my home 27 years ago it was already quite old and well established. Not knowing much about gardening at the time, I pruned it under the guidance of my then sister-in-law. My mum was horrified when she saw what I had done and convinced I had killed it . I wasn’t terribly worried as at that time I wasn’t a big fan of hydrangeas. As you can see, I didn’t kill i. then decided it deserved lots of TLC and it’s still going strong. This year promises a mass of smaller blooms as I didn’t get around to more than dead heading over the colder months, most years the blooms are double the size. I love the colours it produces, a combination of blue, pink, white and mauve on the one plant. Have a wonderful weekend

11.01.2022 I am no longer waiting for a special occasion; I burn the best candles on ordinary days. I am no longer waiting for the house to be clean; I fill it with people... who understand that even dust is Sacred. I am no longer waiting for everyone to understand me; It’s just not their task I am no longer waiting for the perfect children; my children have their own names that burn as brightly as any star. I am no longer waiting for the other shoe to drop; It already did, and I survived. I am no longer waiting for the time to be right; the time is always now. I am no longer waiting for the mate who will complete me; I am grateful to be so warmly, tenderly held. I am no longer waiting for a quiet moment; my heart can be stilled whenever it is called. I am no longer waiting for the world to be at peace; I unclench my grasp and breathe peace in and out. I am no longer waiting to do something great; being awake to carry my grain of sand is enough. I am no longer waiting to be recognized; I know that I dance in a holy circle. I am no longer waiting for Forgiveness. I believe, I Believe. Mary Anne Perrone by Philippe Vogelenzang Photography

07.01.2022 Saint Brigid and the Curragh of Kildare With Saint Brigids day, 1st of February approaching, I thought I would share a tale I heard from my parents growing up i...n South Kildare. We were often brought to the Curragh as kids, a huge almost 5000 acre playground, where frizbees were thrown, balls were kicked, hurleys swung, picnics laid out on the grass, and the delighted little dog and us kids could run and play as far as we liked. I remember being told that the Curragh belonged to the people, it was land with no fences, no owners, a free and open plain for the people to enjoy. The story I was told is similar to many in regards how St Brigid claimed the Curragh for the people of Kildare and Ireland. Brigid was born into slavery, her mother a slave and powerful chieftain father. Growing up she was noted as generous to those less fortunate and possessing healing powers, curing the sick, and even giving away her mother and father’s possessions to help the poor. Her father was annoyed at this and tried to sell her as a slave to the King of Leinster. However while her father was talking to the king she gave away his best sword to a beggar so he could sell it to get food for his family. The king was impressed and liked Brigid and convinced her father to grant her freedom. Sometime later, Brigid asked the king for land to build her convent, she had identified a place in Kildare where there was a forest that would provide nuts, berries and firewood, a lake nearby for fresh water, and a fertile land where she could produce food. The king was not known for his generosity to the poor and laughed at her request, but Brigid prayed and asked him if she could have as much land as her cloak would cover. Seeing her little cloak, the king agreed. But when Brigid spread her cloak on the ground, it spread North, South, East and West until it covered the Curragh of Kildare. After witnessing this miracle, the king changed his ways, became a Christian and vowed to help the less well off in his kingdom. He helped Brigid build her convent and kept his promise to let her keep the land that her cloak had covered. And there it remains to this day, the plain of Brigid, the Curragh of Kildare.

06.01.2022 Telling the bees... There was a time when almost every rural British family who kept bees followed a strange tradition. Whenever there was a death in the fami...ly, someone had to go out to the hives and tell the bees of the terrible loss that had befallen the family. Failing to do so often resulted in further losses such as the bees leaving the hive, or not producing enough honey or even dying. Traditionally, the bees were kept abreast of not only deaths but all important family matters including births, marriages, and long absence due to journeys. If the bees were not told, all sorts of calamities were thought to happen. This peculiar custom is known as telling the bees. The practice of telling the bees may have its origins in Celtic mythology that held that bees were the link between our world and the spirit world. So if you had any message that you wished to pass to someone who was dead, all you had to do was tell the bees and they would pass along the message. The typical way to tell the bees was for the head of the household, or goodwife of the house to go out to the hives, knock gently to get the attention of the bees, and then softly murmur in a doleful tune the solemn news. Little rhymes developed over the centuries specific to a particular region. In Nottinghamshire, the wife of the dead was heard singing quietly in front of the hive, The master's dead, but don't you go; Your mistress will be a good mistress to you. In Germany, a similar couplet was heard, Little bee, our lord is dead; Leave me not in my distress. But the relationship between bees and humans goes beyond superstition. It’s a fact, that bees help humans survive. 70 of the top 100 crop species that feed 90% of the human population rely on bees for pollination. Without them, these plants would cease to exist and with it all animals that eat those plants. This can have a cascading effect that would ripple catastrophically up the food chain. Losing a beehive is much worse than losing a supply of honey. The consequences are life threatening. The act of telling the bees emphasizes this deep connection humans share with the insect. ~ Excerpt from https://www.amusingplanet.com/.../the-adorable-custom-of... Art: The Bee Friend, a painting by Hans Thoma (18391924)

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