Garlic Folklore and Magical Properties

October 30, 2024August 20, 2025 Leave a comment

Have you planted any garlic yet? I’ll admit it — I haven’t. The weather has been so weird here lately that I wasn’t sure if it was a great time to do it. (For real, we currently have one very lonely and confused violet in the front yard.)

Still, it’s good to get garlic in the ground in autumn in temperate areas. This ensures that it’ll be one of the first things to pop up in spring and will be mature and ready for harvest in summer. Since its garlic planting time, I figured it’d also be a good time to explore the magical and folkloric uses of garlic.

Garlic Magical Uses and Folklore

Garlic is probably best known as a way to repel vampires. Some believe that eating it can also help keep mosquitoes, ticks, and other blood suckers at bay. However, research has shown that it actually seems to attract leeches.

In China, garlic was one of the ways to repel the jiangshi (僵尸), a kind of undead, vampiric creature that moves primarily by hopping.

This herb is also well known for its medicinal properties. It has naturally occurring antibacterial, antifungal, and antioxidant compounds. It’s sometimes used to treat various types of infection, high blood pressure, arterial plaque formation, and as part of a general health tonic. However, taking medicinal quantities of it can be contraindicated in some instances, so it’s important to discuss using supplements with your doctor.
(True story: I used to habitually eat so much garlic that, when combined with some very necessary medications, I ended up with bleeding/bruising problems.
It was a truly bonkers amount of it, though.)

Garlic on white ceramic plate decorated with cats. — Photo by Cats Coming on Pexels.com

Garlic was very important in Egypt. This herb was a key part of the rations given to pyramid builders. When they threatened to abandon the project, they were given more garlic.
Pliny claimed that people in parts of Egypt invoked alliums as deities. He’s an outside source, so this should be viewed with some skepticism, but he also had a high opinion of garlic’s virtues. In Natural History, he offers a very long list of situations that call for it as a remedy.

Alexander Neckam, a 12th century English poet, theologian, and writer, recommended garlic as a remedy for the heat of the sun during hard labor.

In some traditions, garlic is considered an aphrodisiac and a charm for a happy wedding night. In India, it’s highly praised in the texts of the Ayurveda. However, those following ascetic paths avoid it, since it’s a food that increases sexual desire.
(Interestingly, some of the main causes of penile erectile dysfunction are high blood pressure, narrowed arteries, and high cholesterol. The clitoral bulbs also have erectile tissue. As an herb with cardiovascular benefits, the idea of garlic promoting/improving sexual desire and performance has credence.)

The Hindu texts Ashtanga Hridaya and Ashtanga Sangraha talk about how a rakshasa (essentially a demon) took a seat among the gods and received a sip of nectar from Vishnu. When Vishnu saw this, he cut off the demon’s head. The head fell to the ground, mouth open, spilling the nectar the demon had taken. From this spot, garlic sprang up. Since it comes from sacred nectar, it is a powerful remedy. However, since it also came from the mouth of a demon, some (especially Brahmin people) choose not to eat it.
On the other hand, the Bhavprakash nighantu, verse 217-220, says that garlic was created when Garuda stole the nectar of immortality from Indra. As he fled, some drops spilled on the soil and grew into garlic.
I think the most interesting aspect here is that, despite their very different origins and viewpoints about this plant, both of these stories acknowledge its sacred and powerful origins. In one, the plant is “defiled” by being tainted by the mouth of a demon. In the other, it isn’t. However, both see garlic as arising from a sacred source.

Selective focus photo of purple allium flowers. — Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

In The Schools’ Collection, an archival record of folk remedies, garlic is mentioned as a cure for multiple ailments. However, most of these are respiratory in nature. There are methods for treating tuberculosis, asthma, influenza, and the common cold, among many others. These range from boiling it in donkey’s milk, to keeping a piece in your shoe.
In China and Japan, it was used for digestive and intestinal complaints, as well as as an antiparasitic.

In central and western Europe, garlic is typically regarded as an herb for protection. The bulbs or flowers could be worn, hung in the home, or placed/rubbed on doors and windows to keep out malevolent spirits or repel the effects of the Evil Eye.

Though garlic is native to northeastern Iran and Central and South Asia, Roman armies were responsible for spreading the plants everywhere they went. Soldiers would eat it before battle, believing that it filled them with courage. They also planted it everywhere, so they’d always have access to it and that courage would be symbolically transferred to the battlefield.

In modern witchcraft, which is typically derived from European traditions, garlic is a protective and banishing herb.
In Hoodoo, which arose from the African diaspora, it is used to ward off evil and protect.

According to Culpepper, garlic is ruled by Mars. It’s considered an herb of Fire.

Using Garlic

The easiest way to use garlic is in kitchen witchery. Before chopping, mashing, or otherwise adding it to foods, hold a clove in your dominant hand and ask the garlic to assist you. Include it in dishes when you need a little extra courage or protection from malevolent energies or envy.

You can also tap into garlic’s banishing properties with little more than a whole clove of it, a pot of soil, a slip of paper, and a windowsill. Write down the name of a bad habit that you wish to be rid of (nail biting, smoking, et cetera). Dig a small hole in the pot of soil, and place the slip of paper at the bottom. Plant the garlic clove over it and tend to it the way you would any other plant. As the garlic sprouts and grows, it’s said to help you overcome the habit.
This is a pretty old charm that uses both the herb’s reputation as a banishing and purification plant, and a bit of sympathetic magic. As the garlic grows, so, too, does the planter’s resolve and distance from their bad habit.

Close up shot of mortar and pestle near garlics. — Photo by Photo By: Kaboompics.com on Pexels.com

It’s also useful in salts or powders to protect an area. Mix dried, powdered garlic in black salt (or regular table salt) and sprinkle it in the corners of a room you wish to ward. If you want to use it outdoors, skip the salt and combine it with other protective herbs.
If you have pets, be aware that too much garlic can cause a condition called Heinz body hemolytic anemia. If you’re trying to ward a room that cats or dogs frequent, either skip the garlic and salt and go for pet-safe herbs or keep the animals out until you feel the herbs and salt have done their job and then sweep and vacuum the area thoroughly.

You can also decorate with garlic bulb wreaths/ropes, or even vases of the fresh flowers. Place them in any room you wish to keep clear of bad vibes. (Kitchens are typically considered the “heart” of a home, so they’re the perfect place for this. Also, you can pull off a fresh bulb to use whenever you need one).

Garlic is more than delicious — it’s healthful and powerfully protective. It’s also surprisingly easy to grow and harvest, making it a very useful addition to any magical or mundane home garden.

Plants and Herbs

St. John’s Wort Folklore and Magical Uses

May 22, 2024May 22, 2024 J.Leave a comment

Ah, St. John’s wort. Taken internally, it’s reportedly a balm for the nerves. Used externally, it’s a balm for cuts and scrapes. Its turpentine-scented leaves and flowers are a source of bright red, medicinal oil, but only when very fresh. The plant itself is the subject of folklore, a medicinal treasure, and a whole lot of magical help.

So, what’s so great about St. John’s wort, and why is it called that, anyway?

St. John’s Wort Magical Properties and Folklore

Let’s start with the name. Officially, St. John’s wort is known as Hypericum perforatum — “hypericum” from “hyper” and “eikon,” referring to how the flowers were hung above icons, and “perforatum” meaning “perforated,” due to the hole-like appearance of the translucent glands in its leaves.

Hypericum is a large genus, and a lot of its members are referred to as St. John’s wort. There are even some unrelated species that bear the same common name, like the marsh St. John’s worts of the genus Triadenum, or the greater celandine that’s sometimes regionally known as St. John’s wort. For our purposes here, we’re going to stick to Hypericum perforatum.

Bright yellow St. John's wort flowers. — Photo by Valter Zhara on Pexels.com

As for how this plant became known as St. John’s wort, it’s a bit of a convoluted story. Its history of use dates back to pre-Christianity, so it wasn’t always known as “St. John’s wort.” (As for the “wort” part, that’s just an old word for “plant,” derived from the Old English “wyrt.”) So, older sources will have their own names for this herb that may not be recognizable to modern readers. St. John’s wort also has a ton of regional names — in the US, it’s sometimes called goatweed, Klamath weed, or Tipton weed. In the UK, it may be called touch-and-heal, rosin rose, penny John, or balm of the warrior’s wound.

The name St. John’s wort came about because it was believed that this herb was at its most potent during Midsummer, and therefore should be harvested on or about June 24th. This was later turned into the Christian feast day of St. John, and so the plant became “St. John’s plant.” It’s also said that the plant’s red, blood-like sap runs in August, on the day that St. John was beheaded.

As evidenced by many of its healing-related common names, this herb is often hyped up in natural medicine circles. Topically, its oil is used to treat and soothe minor wounds in a similar fashion to commercial wound care ointment. Internally, it’s often used to help with symptoms of anxiety or depression. The reason it works is that St. John’s wort has a whole host of active compounds, including sesquiterpine oils, anthraquinone derivatives, and an interesting chemical called hyperforin. Hyperforin is particularly noteworthy, as it may be the source of St. John’s wort’s antidepressant effects, while the anthraquinone derivatives hypericin and pseudohypericin have demonstrated antiviral and/or antibacterial activity.

(As a side note, please avoid taking St. John’s wort internally if you’re on pretty much anything. It can alter how certain medications are metabolized by affecting specific liver enzymes, causing overdoses. It can also inhibit the effects of birth control, antivirals, chemotherapy drugs, certain anticoagulants, and medications for heart disease. Taking it with certain antidepressants also increases the risk of serotonin syndrome, and I don’t wish that on anybody.)

A side view of a creeping St. John's wort, Hypericum calycinum, flower. — Hypericum calycinum, or creeping St. John’s wort, displaying very similar flowers to Hypericum perforatum. Photo by shaosong sun on Pexels.com

Magically, St. John’s wort is often used to repel or banish evil. Another common name, fuga daemonium, literally means “demon flight.” It was often hung in houses, placed above religious icons, or carried as a protective talisman. Flowers, brought into the home on Midsummer’s eve, are considered particularly protective and lucky.

This plant also had some limited divinatory use as a kind of mortality predictor. If you took two sprigs of St. John’s wort and hung it over a marital bed, the sprig that wilted the fastest indicated which member of a couple would die first. Fun!

As a Midsummer plant, St. John’s wort is associated with the Sun and the element of Fire.

Using St. John’s Wort

It’s probably best to work with this herb in dried or oil form. St. John’s wort is such a potent medicinal plant because the compounds that we use as medicine are actually the plant’s defensive mechanisms — they’re distasteful and poisonous to grazing animals, allowing the plant to grow unchecked. That’s not a super big deal if you’re within St. John’s wort’s native range across parts of Europe and Asia but can become a (rapidly spreading) problem if you’re not. This plant is considered a noxious weed elsewhere, so, unless you’re an herbalist who needs the fresh herb specifically, I’d avoid growing it.

If you have access to a patch of St. John’s wort, however, and you’re outside its native range, harvest all you like. (Not much else will use it, and you’ll be doing the native fauna and flora a favor.)

Use St. John’s wort oil for physical and magical healing. Its resemblance to blood makes it appropriate for workings related to birth, death, or rebirth (though I find a bit of bloodroot or alkanet steeped in red wine or vinegar to be a somewhat better — and easier to obtain — substitute for blood itself).

Use the dried herb for banishment. Burn it in bundles and waft the smoke around any space where you want to clear out malevolent spirits, magic, or the effects of the evil eye.

Place some of the dried herb in a protective sachet and carry it on you. You can also add it to jars, poppets, or other container spells as you deem appropriate.

Plants and Herbs

Cypress Folklore and Magical Properties

November 29, 2023November 28, 2023 J.3 Comments

I first started this post in January… of 2020.

A bald cypress in autumn. The needles are a vibrant read and very close to falling.

The reason it took so long was because I wanted to do the subject justice. Cypress trees are my favorite trees. I feel closer to them, and more power from them, than I do other trees. They’re sacred to me. I even have a glass pendant filled with slivers of lightning-struck bald cypress wood, and a pendulum made of a naturally fallen bald cypress’ knee.

Since the local bald cypresses have lived up to their names and done their trademark needle-shedding, I thought now would be a good time to dust this post off and finally finish it.

Cypress Magical Uses & Folklore

To the ancient Greeks, cypress trees had a tragic origin. Kyparissos was a youth who was beloved by Apollo. Apollo gave Kyparissos a beautiful tamed stag who accompanied the boy everywhere. Unfortunately, the stag was slumbering in the forest when the boy was out hunting, and he accidentally killed his stag with a hunting spear. Heartbroken, Kyparissos grieved so deeply that he transformed into a cypress tree.

The staff of Asklepios, the Greek God of Healing, was made of cypress wood. Though cypress does have some medicinal qualities, it’s likely that his staff used cypress less for its healing attributes, and more for its connections to immortality.

Sacrifices to Hades and Persephone were made under groves of cypress trees. Asklepios’ staff may have been a symbolic placation of the deities of the Underworld, so that they would not take his patients.

One of Athena’s names was “Lady of the Cypress.”

Bald cypresses are so named because they are deciduous. Every year, they shed their needles during the winter months.

Bald cypresses (Taxodium distichum, in the Cupressaceae family) are also unique in that they form “knees” — tall, knobbly growths that spring straight up from the trees’ roots. Nobody’s really sure why this happens, as the knees don’t appear to serve a particular purpose and removing them doesn’t seem to affect the trees negatively. They just kind of… happen. Some theories for cypress knees describe them as an adaptation for living in very wet environments, by helping to aerate the roots, provide an additional means of preventing erosion, or helping to stiffen and strengthen the root system.

Some cypress knees get pretty big. While they’re mostly conical in shape, they can be really irregular and knobby. It wasn’t uncommon for travelers, particularly those walking at night, to mistake them for other people or even monsters.

In general, cypresses are guardians of boundaries. Members of Cupressaceae are symbols of death, immortality, the afterlife, and liminal spaces. Their typically upright growth habit connects the earth to the sky, and they’re commonly planted on the borders of cemeteries. Kyparissos’ legend further associates these trees with death and grieving. Since these trees are evergreen, they are identified with the concepts of immortality and the afterlife as well.

I wasn’t able to find much information about Chinese cypress species, but the bit I did find suggests that cypress seeds were eaten to preserve longevity. In Japan, hinoki cypresses have a prominent place in Shinto rituals. Hinoki wood is used to start ritual fires, as well as to make the priests’ scepters.

A close up of a cluster of green cypress cones.

Though bald cypresses are native to America, they still connect to similar concepts as their Middle Eastern, European, and Asian counterparts. Though they resemble evergreen conifers, they shed their needles every year — a symbolic death and rebirth. They also grow where the water meets the land, which is another liminal space.

According to Persian legend, a cypress tree was the first tree to grow in Paradise. It’s evergreen leaves and extremely durable and rot-resistant wood made it a fitting symbol for immortality.

Cypress motifs are frequently used to decorate graves and tombs. You can see this on Christian graves, and in abstract depictions on Turkish Muslim tombs as well.

Some sources claim that Indigenous American peoples believed that cypress trees had a connection to the spirit world. This claim is vague, however, and since I couldn’t find any specific references to which tribes and nations believed this, it should be taken with a grain of salt.

Cypress wood, when used in wands, is said to have a calm and soothing energy. This follows cypress’ use as a symbol of, and remedy for, grief.

Medicinally, cypress oil is used to soothe coughs, treat warts, ease hemorrhoids, treat cuts and broken skin, relieve pain from muscle aches and varicose veins, and ease symptoms of anxiety and depression.

Personally, I love cypress and get a lot out of its connection to the other worlds. Bald cypresses, in particular, are excellent emblems of the thin border between the material plane and the spirit worlds. I’ve used cypress to ease thanatophobia, and as part of an excellent oil for trancework.

Using Cypress

If you don’t have access to cypress trees or wood, the easiest way to work with them is probably through their oil. Cypress trees are fragrant and produce a lovely essential oil. If you avoid using essential oils due to safety or sustainability concerns, you can also try purchasing some cypress needles and infusing your own oils. I’m fortunate that bald cypresses are native to this area, so there are plenty around when I need to gather twigs, needles, or cones.

If you work with grief, or as part of the counseling or deathcare industries, it may be worthwhile to explore the properties of cypress wood or oil. Even if you don’t choose to use incorporate this into your work, the aromatherapeutic and energetic properties may help ease the stress of confronting death and grief on a daily basis.

A close up of the base of a bald cypress trunk, showing four distinct knees. A pond and more trees are visible right behind them.

I have several bald cypress knees around my house. Some are altar pieces, some are floor sculptures, some are cabinet specimens. It doesn’t hurt bald cypress trees to have their knees removed, and many homeowners do so in order to make their yards a little safer and easier to maintain. You can often find cypress knees for sale on Etsy or eBay.

Cypress trees are great. If you live in an area with a native cypress species, plant one. They’re beautiful, they’re useful, and they’re powerful.

Plants and Herbs

Milkweed Folklore & Magical Properties

September 6, 2023September 3, 2023 J.1 Comment

I planted a swamp milkweed (Asclepias incarnata) in the back yard not too long ago. Though I did it well after I could hope for monarch butterflies, I still wanted one of these beautiful, interesting native plants. (Besides, they’re perennials — if it could survive this year, there’ll be plenty of plant for the monarch babies next year!)

It was blooming happily, playing host to all kinds of tiny fauna, and finally put out lots of big, fat pods. Apparently it wanted to wait until the recent supermoon to bust those suckers open, because that whole part of the yard is inundated with milkweed fluff!

Flat, brown milkweed seeds, showing their tassels of silky white fluff.

I gathered a good quantity of the fluff and seeds to save, share, and use for various purposes. So, I figured, now’s probably a good time to write about this lovely plant’s magical properties!

Like many of the plants I choose to explore, this one’s native to the Americas. That means that you won’t see it in a lot of older folk or ceremonial magic resources. This plant is still powerful, however, and has a lot to offer practitioners in its native range.

Milkweed’s Magical Uses and Folklore

Like I mentioned, milkweed produces tons of fluff. This fluff appears as silky white tassels on its seeds and helps them disperse via wind — just like dandelions. If you catch a floating milkweed seed, make a wish, then release it to go along its merry way, its said that your wish will come true.

Milkweed fluff can also be used as filling for pillows, sachets, and poppets. Thistledown is a traditional poppet filling, but, if you don’t live in an area with abundant thistles, milkweed fluff can be used as a substitute.

Filling a dream pillow with milkweed fluff is said to cause the user to dream of the fae.

The juices of the milkweed plant, when used for anointing, are said to strengthen one’s “third eye.” (However, these juices are also irritating, so maybe just place a whole leaf or sprig of flowers to your forehead instead.)

In World War II, military life jackets were filled with milkweed fluff as an alternative to kapok (Ceiba pentandra).

Milkweed’s genus, Asclepias, was named for Asclepius. He’s the Greek God of Healing, and a son of Apollo.

Though it’s associated with a god of Healing, one of milkweed’s primary virtues is its toxicity. When monarch caterpillars feed on milkweed, they take in the plant’s toxins. This, in turn, makes the vulnerable caterpillars toxic and unpalatable to predators. As a result, milkweed is associated with protection.

There’s also a very fine line between “poison” and “medicine.” To the people indigenous to milkweed’s native range, milkweed sap was used to remove warts. Boiling helps leach out the toxins in the plant’s sap, and cleaned up extracts of milkweed proved useful for respiratory ailments, sore throats, and kidney problems. Some of the toxins in milkweed sap are cardiac glycosides, which, in small doses, behave similarly to the digitalin extracted from foxglove (genus Digitalis).

Milkweed is a very liminal plant. Swamp milkweed (A. incarnata) can be found at the edges of wetlands, where the water meets the land. Common milkweed (A. syriaca) often grows in disturbed areas, like roadsides.

Milkweed is associated with the Moon and the element of Earth. (Personally, I also associated swamp milkweed with water.)

Using Milkweed

Milkweed’s a really lovely plant, though it can also be hazardous to work with if you aren’t careful. Personally, I limit myself to the flowers, fluff, and seeds — I have sensitive skin, and the last thing I want to worry about is getting milkweed sap on myself!

The fluff is really lovely as a filling for poppets and dream pillows. Blend it with herbs like mugwort, hops, and lavender, and add a clear Herkimer quartz crystal for a wonderful dream pillow that’ll help improve dream recall and make it easier to dream lucidly.

The seeds, like a lot of native American seeds, need to be stratified. That means that they’re great to use for sowing rituals during the colder months — the winter solstice, for example.

Seeds are a great spell component in general, because they embody as-yet-unrealized potential. They’re a bit of sympathetic magic, too. As the seed grows, so will the thing you hope to get from your spell.

Milkweed seeds are also flat, so they’re nice to incorporate into homemade paper. Once the paper’s used, you can plant it and allow the seeds to grow. Just make sure that you’re using varieties native to your area!

The pink flower clusters of A. incarnata.

Milkweed is a beautiful, protective plant that has much to offer those who can get past its defense mechanisms. Inside those pods, protected by poisonous, milky-white sap, is an abundance of silky, silvery fluff and seeds. If you have the ability to grow or otherwise hang out with milkweed, I highly recommend it.

Plants and Herbs

I decided to eat the anise hyssop (and here’s a really tasty recipe).

September 5, 2023September 3, 2023 J.Leave a comment

Not too long ago, I wrote a bit about the magical properties of hyssop. The thing that prompted me to do this was the ludicrous abundance of anise hyssop blooms (and also bees, moths, and butterflies) in the little pollinator garden in the front yard.

Anise hyssop and regular hyssop aren’t related, though. Anise hyssop, also called anise mint, is a member of the mint family. It’s called “anise hyssop” because the leaves and flowers have an anise-like scent and flavor — though I think it’s more reminiscent of root beer!

Anyhow, since some of the anise hyssop was getting tall enough to block the coreopsis and beautyberry, I figured I’d go harvest some. Sickle in hand, I shooed the bees to the other anise hyssop plants and got cutting. I also cut a few lavender flowers that were growing at odd angles.

From there, I separated the good leaves from the wilted or damaged ones, and removed the flower heads. I gave everything a good wash, then boiled it in equal parts sugar and water to make a lovely, herb-infused simple syrup.

A bowl of small, bright purple flowers and green leaves soaking in water.

Once the syrup was made, I strained out the plant matter and spread it on a bit of parchment paper in my dehydrator. After an hour and a half at 165 degrees F, once everything was dried to a crisp, I was left with some lovely candied flowers that do, in fact, taste exactly like root beer.

Anise hyssop is used as a carminative and expectorant, and is very soothing. I don’t really need an expectorant right now, but I plan to use the flowers and syrup to ease digestive complaints. The only thing is, I don’t really need that much. So what do I do when I’ve got way more delicious candied flowers than I need?

I make scones.

These are easy, nut-, egg-, and dairy-free, and delicious. They only require one bowl and about half an hour of your time.

Blackberry and Anise Hyssop Scones

Dry Ingredients:

2 cups of flour (I used einkorn, but regular wheat flour is fine)
1/2 cup sugar
1 tablespoon flaxseed meal
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 cup cold vegan butter or coconut oil
1 handful fresh anise hyssop flowers
1 generous cup of blackberries (depending on their size, you may want to cut them into smaller pieces)

Wet ingredients:

1/2 cup milk substitute of your choice (I used pea milk)
1 teaspoon of vanilla extract

Tools:

A nice big mixing bowl
A spoon
A whisk or fork
A pastry cutter or fork (optional)
Measuring cups and spoons
A baking sheet
A sharp knife

Making the Scones

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees F.
Place the sugar and fresh anise hyssop flowers in your mixing bowl.
Rub them together with your hands, until the flowers are mashed with the sugar and the mixture resembles moist sand.
Add the flour, flaxseed meal, and baking powder. Whisk together until well mixed.
Add the cold butter substitute or coconut oil. (You might want to do this in cubes or spoonfuls, it’ll make the next bit easier.) Use a fork, pastry cutter, or just your hands to work the fat into the dry ingredients. Keep at it until the mixture looks like coarse crumbs.
Measure out a half cup of milk substitute. Add the vanilla extract to the milk and stir.
Pour your milk into the mixing bowl. Stir until it’s just combined — avoid over stirring. If it seems too dry to hold together, add another tablespoon or two of milk.
Fold in your blackberries.
With floured hands, lightly knead the dough until it all comes together. Visualize yourself kneading health, love, and prosperity into the dough.
Turn the dough out onto a floured surface. Form it into a ball, and pat it out into a flat circle roughly an inch thick.
Slice it into triangles. If you like, you can use a toothpick or the tip of a knife to carve the tops with runes, sigils, ogham feda, or other symbols significant to you.
Place the triangles on a baking sheet. Bake for about 25 minutes, or until they’re golden brown.

Unbaked blackberry scone dough, formed into a circle, cut into triangles, and inscribed with the runes jera, sowilo, teiwaz, uruz, algiz, and laguz.

Making Them Extra Fancy

If you like, you can also ice your scones. Mix up a cup of confectioner’s sugar, two tablespoons of milk substitute, and, if you like, some finely crumbled candied anise hyssop leaves and flowers. Stir well until the mixture is smooth and liquid. If it seems too thick, add some more milk substitute. If it’s too thin, add more sugar.

Once your scones are cool (give them about 20 minutes), drizzle the icing on with a spoon. Give the icing a few minutes to harden, then serve.