a little bit of rhubarb

By Puggle

Of spellcraft and sporrans

Met a friend for lunch in the old Fortune of War pub today (not the socks-and-open-toed-sandals guy here... I just happened to use this photo even though it has no relationship to the subject of this entry. Edit: been trying to change this photo but the app doesn't feel like obliging. And I couldn't use a photo of my friend, for reasons which shall become clear to you).

As far as conversational gambits go, I think today's will be one of the more memorable of 2013.

Over lunch, my friend puts down her fork and asks: "Would you bring me back something from Scotland?"

"Of course. What would you like?" says I, thinking: tablet fudge, novelty sporran, whisky miniatures, length of tartan- you know, the usual.

"I need you to bring me back a protective charm or spell, because my nine year old step-daughter is seeing dead people floating on the ceiling and a demon keeps following her home."

I am proud to relate that the only sign of surprise on my part was a blink: "You want a charm or spell."

"Yes."

"Not a sporran, then."

"No."

"Ah." (Pause while I digest this information, and wonder frantically how to diplomatically find out whether the child is attention-seeking, psychologically disturbed or really was being followed home by demons and seeing dead people gallivanting about on her ceiling. Irrespective, it was clear my friend was at her wit's end).

"Well. What have you tried so far?" I ask.

"Naturally, I've cleansed the house, several times, and used smudge sticks and candles and crystals but the demon keeps coming back."

(I shall edit out the prolonged discussion about whether we're talking Judeo-Christian demons or what, and how do we know that it actually is a demon rather than some other entity, what it looks like, whether it's the same demon each time or different ones, whether the child has any Christian schooling, faith in crucifixes, etc)
"Ok, anything else that you've tried?" I ask.

"We asked the angels for help." Here I fear my face betrayed me, with an Angels WTF??? look that my friend picked up on:"well, what else can I do?"

"Have you tried a witch bottle?" I ask (providing instructions).*
"And have you tried using salt?"

"Ooh no," she replies, "what kind of salt should I use?"

And this is where I failed to be completely open-minded and supportive: "I don't think demons watch Masterchef, so somehow I don't think you need pink coarse ground rock salt from the Riverina district. Normal salt should be fine."

This discussion went on for awhile- I shall spare you the blow-by-blow version. Eventually I agreed to bring back some rowan twigs and an amulet provided I could find someone in Scotland or the UK generally who deals in 'demon-be-gone' products. In the end, I decided it doesn't matter whether I believe or not. It's whatever solves the problem, be it psychological or spiritual.

So if anyone out there in blipland happens to know where I can acquire just such an item or find a reputable purveyor of such, do please let me know- there's an email address in the 'About Puggle' section if you'd prefer to use that. Happy to accept Irish/English witch advice or suggestions as well, not just Scottish.... I am nothing if not open-minded!(except about angels and the merits of pink rock salt, apparently...)

______
* FYI, I have a certain familiarity with witch bottles because we sometimes come across them at work, in old buildings, under floorboards or hearths or thresholds.

And as for general witchy/pagan/neo-pagan/ wiccan things, no I have no affiliation to any spiritual group whatsoever. Christian or otherwise. I simply know a bit about spells and suchlike because it was impossible to do a PhD in History studying criminal insanity without needing to learn about witchcraft, demonic possession etc. I am a champion fence-sitter in the classic academic sense, and I've seen a few odd things so I'm not ruling anything in or out, that's all. And as backup I have a friend who's a priest...so I think that's most of the western faith traditions covered...

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