The Magick of a Druid Mind...
The Scream of a Viking Victory.
This wooden rune is of the earth roots and it's yours.
One only ~ Crafted by the hand of Dewyyd. Yaaah!
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Ash Tree Letter N

Rune circle crafted from locally gathered Snottygobble tree found in the southern area of Western Australia. 

Symbol hand inscribed by traditional burning representing the Ogham Letter N (Neen, a chain to the realms).

In Ogham Astrology the Ash stands from February 18th to March 17th and is a true warrior, one of the five magical trees.

Size 4cm wide by 5cm high. Polished with macadamia oil and bee-keeper's beeswax. 

Use as a single, governing rune for insight through the worlds.

Ogham Tree Alphabet Ash Playing Cards featuring the Druid Ogham Rune. Ash represents the

madness and restrictions of March, being a Chieftan.. 


The Snottygobble tree "Screaming Hag" where the wood for this rune circle was claimed. 

Tree in falling-back position of a screaming hag witch with arms thrown back in horror. 

Snottygobble Screaming Hag Playing Cards

Famous Bicycle Made in USA


Runes to make yourself from backyard trees. Brand the symbol using a fire-heated clay tool.




Cnaf (Welsh for a knave) crochet cauldron to store your runes in.
Use steel grey pure wool, iron for handle.
(Cleckheaton Perfect Day 8ply blend of 30% alpaca 70% merino,
natural colours, undyed yarn used double)

5mm hook:  Commence with a tight circle and shape as you spiral upwards.
Wobbly is wonderful.

4mm hook: Iron used single for handle.

Slip in a few long, sharp thorns. These are from a lemon
tree water shoot. The outdoor altar bricks are genuine convict-made.







  An old cottage witch tale of the power of concentration. Read carefully, and know.


Unknown Immortals



In the Northern City of Success
Chapter 1: The Willick woman


By Herbert Moore Pim (1917)




Willick Woman



Willick Woman



The Willick Woman

In this city of Success there is a company of venerable women who are older than Smithfield. Of all our mysteries these are the most mysterious. Their secret is with themselves. They sit in the shadow of the Custom House or near the pleasure steamer’s pier, upon small stools; and before them there is a box upon which reposes a metal tray; and on the tray is a pyramid of periwinkles. To those who purchase, they offer a pin with which the periwinkle may be led to abandon his shell. That is what the world sees. But the world is very blind; and its blindness is superlative because it believes it has the power of sight. The world would not be half so blind if it could be taught that it cannot see.

About the feet of these ancient women there are strewn many empty shells. And when the world’s feet crunch upon these, it feels sure they are the refuse of some purchase. But who can behave so plain a fact? Its plainness should prove to us that it is there in order that the simple may be deceived.

One of the signs which should make us think is the secret love which little children have for the Willick Woman. The Willick Woman is a storer of secrets. What she sees with her eyes she hides away, and that which is spoken she remembers. Her wisdom comes from the East, where the earth grows angry in conflict with the sun; and because her shells are built like a king’s tomb, she has for her own some of the lore of the Nile. But her chief wisdom was taught to the Masseer by the priests of Babilu; and the Masseer carried it in its great salmon-soul down to the ocean, just as the flood dried into pools in its wake. It spread round the world, that is the under-water world, and tentacled watchers of the greater deep smiled when they heard it, and ceased to wave their sucker-studded arms. And they laughed up at the folly of man as his ships passed like shadows on the grey roof of the waters. And when great whales came down to prey upon them, they would clasp the vast monsters in their arms, and struggle for a space so that there might be stillness. And in the higher world timid crayfish and the small finned dorys, who keep close to the rocks, whispered to each other the proverb of the sea:

“There is always still water below the fiercest storm.”

The Willick Women are always old, and each has an over-grown son who disguises himself as a newsboy or affects the splendid profession of the loafer. It is a law with the Willick Woman that she must never gather her own shells; so her son goes out into the shadows, before toilers are astir, and creeps down the long Shore Road. He himself only guesses vaguely the greatness of his mission; and it is well that it should be so. He walks bent over the sand, and scales great stones clear of periwinkles. Sometimes he sings below his breath a song that appears always strange to him, as though he had heard it in a dream. Then when the sun is risen, the over-grown son of the Willick Woman comes home with, two great gleaming cans, full of the shell-bound mystery of the sea.

At the door his mother receives him; and. Then it is permitted him to sleep a heavy sleep, well earned, or he may go forth to loiter upon the great streets or sell what men believe to be printed truth. But he must not remain at home to watch the mysteries. He cannot be a Willick Man, for there is none such. Willick Women are always old, and that is because when a Willick Woman is in fear of death she chooses some ancient lady who tends her to bear her secret.

When her over-grown son has gone or is asleep, the Willick Woman pours a stream of the shellfish into a steaming black pot; and then, motionless, she watches while countless activities are ended, and the white vapour of the soulless rises heavenwards. For her that act is something great accomplished. There is before her the calmness and repose of a slain-strewn field of war. Each well-armed periwinkle is at peace. For a time her brain is active, and she can read human destinies in the victorious vapour that rises from a bubbling and rattling cauldron of shells. Perhaps it may be that she sees a purpose beyond the range of her mysteries. The cowrie shell is the coin of Africa; the metal coin is the god of the West. But those who cannot bow down to this elusive god, can make for themselves gods of the cowrie shell on the shore of civilisation.

Then when all is done, the hot shells are spread upon some convenient surface, and afterwards placed in a great can. If the over-grown son is dutiful he can now be sighted from the door, ready to attend upon his mother. For it is now she goes forth; and with her she takes a seat for herself and a box upon which the tray of treasures can rest. Then, whether her son attend her or not, she becomes invisible, and that which is with her also. For no man has seen the Willick Woman upon her journey. In the mind of the world, she exists merely in a state of repose before her pyramid of shells, which truly gives wisdom to the thoughtless. And that is because there is no task which calls for so much concentration as the extraction, with a pin, of a boiled periwinkle from its shell. Therefore the Willick Woman is the benefactor of the poor. She teaches the secret of concentration; and there is no earthly height to which those who learn her lesson truly may not rise.

Flower Children

I am a lucky, white, witch-cat and my Mistress is Gwiddonod (Welsh for Witch)

Please knock again as there shall be many gifts for you.

See Gifts from a Witch's Cottage

Make your own Fae Pouch for children in the woods.