I've been wanting a new blog for a long time now. Something with less snark and more craft. More fabric, more yarn, more herbs and more dreams. A blog to reflect my new energy and creativity that has come after a tough time.
BogWitch Farm only exists in my dreams and a few containers at the moment. I live in a condo, in a brookside swamp in Western MA. I started calling myself a bog-witch after I discovered the bullfrog living in the small pond under my back porch. I like the name and the image it conjures in my mind. Sometimes I think modern witches are too pretty, too clean, and maybe even a little too nice. A bog-witch might have a wart, or some muck on her shoes. She may be cranky in the morning and hermit-like when sad. She might be odd and slighty unkempt, but she also sees beauty and value where others might miss it. She's willing to go into strange, dark places to find the magic the world needs. Which is not to say I have a wart on my nose, but I like the idea that magic can be messy, just like life.
