Witchcraft for Wayward Girls + Tea
There’s something about Witchcraft for Wayward Girls that hits close to home, maybe because I live in St. Augustine and this story feels stitched into the Spanish moss and salt air. The way the land holds secrets, the way women carry them.
It’s part Alice Hoffman dreamscape, part Delia Owens grit. A book that feels both mythic and real, where the magic is quiet and buried deep like the kind passed down through glances, gardens and grief.
I’ve heard these stories before. Around fire pits. In whispered kitchen confessions. Women surviving, shapeshifting, remembering. But reading them like this,so raw, so well-written,it felt like honoring something sacred. These characters are not just characters. They’re your grandmother’s ghosts. Your own unspoken chapters.
This is a story for wild women. For the ones who know the woods, who trust the moon, who’ve wandered too far and found themselves anyway.
A gorgeous, local-feeling, soul-scrubbing read.
Spellbound Tea for Wayward Girls
Serves one wild woman, with extra for ghosts
Ingredients:
1 cup water
1 tsp dried lavender (for memory and calm)
1 tsp dried rosemary (for courage and rootedness)
1 tsp dried rose petals (for love and remembrance)
1 small piece of fresh ginger (for fire, protection, and survival)
Honey to taste (or wildflower syrup, if you’ve wandered far enough)
A pinch of sea salt (for the ocean, for grounding, for what’s lost and returned)
Instructions:
Bring the water to a soft boil. Whisper the names of the women who came before you as it warms.
Add lavender, rosemary, rose petals, and ginger. Cover, and let steep for 5–7 minutes. Let the steam carry away the weight of old secrets.
Strain into a favorite mug — one that has seen firelight and moonlight both.
Stir in honey and a pinch of sea salt. Taste, adjusting until it feels like a warm memory on your tongue.
Sip slowly, honoring the women, ghosts, and wild selves in the room and in your veins.
While sipping, set an intention: “May I remember what is mine, may I release what is not, may I walk wild and free, always.”