I’m off to teach magic potions today in my creative writing class. It’s been some time since I’ve led this workshop, so I’ve been scampering about town trying to collect the various ingredients required. I can’t find newt eyes anywhere, so my students will have to do their concocting with the likes of dragon urine, pixie juice, gnome poop, elf bones, rainbow seeds, mummy dust, and burning acid. However, I did manage upon some heart’s desire and envy’s greed—two new ingredients for the kit.
I had a happy adventure last week when I was on one of my quests for ingredients. I went to a antique shop on Main Street and here I found many a mysterious object. I got to talking with the proprietor and, with a twinkle in her eye, informed me that her “grandmam” had been a granny witch. Well, back in the old days (even before I was born) granny witches used to go around the towns helping out folk with their various ailments. They did some real work (for example, midwifery), but also wouldn’t hesitate to dabble in the more eldritch of activities—you know, spells and curses and the sort of thing. I wouldn’t exactly recommend any of my students to go licking a toad if they have a headache—but then again, I also tell them to never drink their potions, and they rarely take that advice!