#white bergamot

[vandaliatraveler]

Summer has arrived, and with it, the single greatest proliferation of life in Central Appalachia. This is the time of great, ostentatious wildflowers, one more showy and resplendent than the next, each competing with the other for the swarms of pollinators that have emerged to drink from the earth's sweet nectar pots, find their mates, and plant their eggs in the all-too-brief span before their whirring energies have faded into oblivion. At no time do I feel more connected to life's urgent, relentless pulse than in the electric heat of summer; the rich meadows, bogs, streambanks, and hedgerows are my temples and the tiny creatures that come to them to feed and renew their kind are the only intermediaries I need to realize true spiritual peace and joy.

The photos above are from a late afternoon bike ride on Deckers Creek Trail.

[askwhatsforlunch]

Citrus and Praliné Kings' Crown

This year's Kings' Crown is a celebration of its Southern France origins, as it is filled and glazed with lemon and bergamot marmalades I brought back from Menton this Summer. And it could only be paired with best of pralinés, the Luxury version I made at Christmas. This Citrus and Praliné Kings' Crown is fit for Queens and Kings indeed! Happy Epiphany!

Ingredients (makes 1 brioche):

4 cups strong white flour

1/3 cup caster sugar

4 ½ teaspoons active dry yeast

2 teaspoons salt

1 lemon

4 large eggs

½ cup milk

1 cup unsalted butter, cut into small chunks

1 heaped tablespoon Confiture de Citron de Menton (Lemon Marmalade)

1 heaped tablespoon Confiture de Bergamote de Menton (Bergamot Marmalade)

2 tablespoons Luxury Praliné 

a fève*

1 egg, lightly beaten

½ tablespoon milk

1 teaspoon Confiture de Citron de Menton (Lemon Marmalade)

1 teaspoon Confiture de Bergamote de Menton (Bergamot Marmalade)

1 tablespoon water

1 tablespoon pearl sugar

The day before, combine strong white flour, caster sugar, yeast and salt (they shouldn’t touch at this stage) in the bowl of an electric stand mixer fitted with the hook attachment. Grate in the zest of the whole lemon. Turn on low speed until well-combined.

Turn on medium speed and add the eggs and milk, and mix 4 minutes until smooth and elastic. The dough will be quite sticky at this stage. Gradually add butter, a few chunks at a time until fully incorporated. When all the butter is incorporated, increase speed to high and mix, 4 to 6 minutes, until dough is soft, shiny and slaps the sides of the bowl.

Turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface and knead lightly to form a ball. Pop the dough ball in a lightly oiled large bowl and cover with cling film. Let rise at room temperature for an hour.

Again, turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface and knead lightly. Shape into a ball, and return dough to the lightly oiled bowl. Cover with cling film, and prove once more a couple of hours or until the dough has tripled in size. Place the bowl in the refrigerator overnight. The dough will continue proving, which will give the brioche a light and airy texture.

In the morning, remove the bowl from the refrigerator, and allow the dough to come back to room temperature, for 1 hour.

Line a baking tray with baking paper. Set aside. 

Remove cling film and turn dough out on a lightly floured surface. Divide the dough into two equal portions. Roll two of the portions into large rectangles onto a lightly floured surface.

Spread Lemon and Bergamot marmaldes onto the first dough rectangle, leaving at least an inch on the outward edge, and roll it tightly like you would a Swiss roll, seal the seam, and gently roll into a long “sausage”. Set aside. Repeat with the second dough rectangle, and generously spreading Luxury Praliné onto it, before rolling it, too. Hide the fève* in one of the “sausages”!

Place both of them vertically on the work surface, pinching the end of both of them firmly together. Twist, and shape into a crown. Place on prepared baking tray. Leave to prove for 30 minutes to one hour in a warm, draught-free room.

Whisk the egg and milk together.

Preheat oven to 190°C/375°F. Once the brioche has risen, brush thoroughly with egg wash. Bake at 190°C/375°F  for 35 minutes, until a nice golden brown colour.

Meanwhile, combine Lemon and Bergamot marmalades with water in a small saucepan. Warm over a low flame until dissolved, well-blended and syrup-y. Set aside.

Remove Citrus and Praliné Kings’ Crown from the oven. Immediately and generously brush all over with lemon and bergamot syrup. Sprinkle liberally with pearl sugar. Transfer to serving plate and let cool for a bit before serving and finding out who’ll be crowned Queen or King! It pairs nicely with chilled Cider.

*A fève is a tiny porcelain figurine traditionally hidden in Epiphany Galette des Rois or Kings’ Brioche in France. Whoever finds it in their slice is Queen or King for the day. Before it was a figurine, a dried fava bean (”fève”, in French) used to be hidden, hence the name.

[emh-photos-art]

Here are more photos I took yesterday. There are 2 photos of fleabane daisies (one macro), one macro of bergamot, and one of a whole bunch of bergamot flowers.

[nuescent22]

A nebulizer uses an electrical pump to atomize the scent molecules and unharness them as a fine gas into the air. Humidifiers square measure designed to feature wetness to the air associated degreed shouldn’t be accustomed diffuse unless they need Aromatherapy Essential Oil to operate.

You don’t want a diffuser to get pleasure from the various aromatic advantages of Essential Oils. You simply want a plant disease and a bottle of your favorite oil.

[parfumery-wiki]

Gozo (extrait de parfum) Jeroboam Nose: Vanina Muracciole

Floral amber

For the first time, the Parisian brand Jéroboam breaks its historical codes and swaps its black and gold for an Orange, which evokes joyful memories. The fragrance, a powerful woody and spicy floral scent that is perfectly mixed, radiates sensual floral facets tinged with subtle hints of spices on a base of musks, precious woods and modern notes of ambroxan.

It was on the occasion of the inauguration of the first Jovoy store in Qatar that François Henin met Abdulaziz Al Ajail, a well-respected and trusted social media figure from Qatar. AbdulAziz is always between flights, travels the world and takes advantage of each stopover to learn everything about his true passion, perfumery.

Eager for more discoveries, he is always on the lookout for a gustative experience, but also and above all for an olfactory one. Whether it is in plantations, secret addresses where there is real oud wood or perhaps a vintage perfume, or a perfume laboratory, he is always on the search for a new sensation to be engraved in his memory. By dint of meetings and discussions generally around a real Karak, Abdulaziz one day tells François about his experience of what he considers to be a glimpse of heaven on earth : the Maltese island of Gozo which has its own magical aspect.

At the crossroads of worlds and times, it contains vestiges of past settlements and of successive domination by the Phoenicians, Romans, Arabs, Sicilians, the British or the French. Its coastal coves are like surreal postcards. In the evening, the winds seem to bring scents from both Africa and Europe. We are at the crossroads of continents, in Mediterranean land: generous, sunny and rich in flavors that are at once so simple, subtle and yet so rich.

The idea of transcribing his memory into perfume will quickly become a challenge between the two enthusiasts. As for all other extracts of Jeroboam perfumes, it is the independent perfumer Vanina Muracciole who will strive to transcribe the artistic vision of Abdulaziz in perfume.

Two years after the start of the project, Gozo took its first steps during an exceptional evening at the prestigious Al Hazm Perfumery Exhibition in Doha, Qatar. Now the precious nectar can be found in all Jovoy stores and in a handful of emblematic stores by summer 2020.

Top notes: Saffron, Tuberose, Bergamot Heart notes: Geranium, Violet leaves, Cedarwood Base notes: White musk, Patchouli, Ambroxan

[teanourish]

Earl Grey Masala Chai Tea

Benefits:

Fusion of flavors: Combines the classic taste of Earl Grey with the aromatic spices of masala chai for a unique and delightful experience.

Energizing and comforting: The robust black tea base coupled with warming spices invigorates your senses while providing a sense of comfort and relaxation.

Versatile beverage: Enjoy it hot or cold, with or without milk, for a refreshing pick-me-up any time of day.

Features:

Premium ingredients: Crafted using high-quality Assam black tea leaves, blended with fragrant bergamot and a medley of traditional Indian spices such as cardamom, cinnamon, and cloves.

Bold flavor profile: A harmonious balance of citrusy notes from bergamot, bold undertones of black tea, and the warm, spicy kick of masala chai spices.

Convenient packaging: Comes in a resealable pouch to preserve freshness and flavor, making it perfect for home brewing or on-the-go enjoyment.

Indulge in the rich and aromatic fusion of two beloved tea varieties with our Earl Grey Masala Chai Tea. Crafted from premium Assam black tea leaves, this unique blend combines the zesty citrus flavor of Earl Grey with the warming spices of masala chai. With every sip, you'll experience a delightful harmony of bold black tea, fragrant bergamot, and a medley of traditional Indian spices like cardamom, cinnamon, and cloves. Whether you prefer it hot or cold, with milk or without, our Earl Grey Masala Chai Tea is sure to invigorate your senses and elevate your tea-drinking experience.

[ratwars]

oh no, i don’t have an ~ideal~ vision, just a heavily biased one. hence why i was curious what a respectable fyodor enjoyer such as yourself would have in mind for him.

on that note: what kind(s) of tea do you think he likes?

I see I see. Well I'd still be cool with hearing about it regardless if you wanted to of course, but no pressure.

I actually think he would appreciate a wide range of teas, but I see him leaning more towards black tea blends more often tbh! But whether smoky or with more fruit notes I think he could appreciate many different kinds of tea. I realize I usually write him having earl grey because of my own "bias" but I don't think he would only drink one kind of tea.

[of-mice-and-mayhem]

i got a new candle and the scent is book loft

i may or may not have gotten new candle(s)

[sabersplit]

L’eau d’hiver - Frédéric Malle

Notes

Heliotrope

Iris

White musk

Angelica

Honey

Bergamot

Jasmine

Hawthorn

[vandaliatraveler]

Summer on the Deckers Creek Trail in Preston County.

From top: wild bergamot (Monarda fistulosa), whose fragrant odor permeates the trail in late July; downy skullcap (Scutellaria incana), an adorable perennial mint that clumps gregariously with wild bergamot; buttonbush (Cephalanthus occidentalis), easily identified by its pincushion-like flowers; Canada lily (Lilium canadense), which can be distinguished from the very similar Turk's-cap lily by petals that don't reflex past the flower's base; the elegant tall thimbleweed (Anemone virginiana), named after the thimble-shaped mound of pistils at the center of its flower; white meadowsweet (Spiraea alba), a lovely native spiraea that grows in damp meadows; and summer phlox (Phlox paniculata), also known as fall phlox, because it blooms prolifically from late July through September.

[florencemtrash]

He Feels Safe With You — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel's sleeping habits begin to worry you, but after a conversation with Cassian, you realize you've misinterpreted the entire situation.

Warnings: Major fluff. Like tooth-rotting sweetness. Sleepy Az.

Author's note: I should be sleeping because I have work tomorrow but instead I've chosen to write this oneshot and I have no regrets.

It was starting to become a problem now. 

You cocked your head to the side, cradling a cup of tea in your hands and watching Azriel as he continued to sleep soundly in your bed. You had the windows cracked open and the early Autumn breeze swirled indoors with the scent of lavender, bergamot, and the strawberry jam you’d slathered over your toast. You checked the time once again on the glossy marble clock face. The arrow-shaped hour hand clicked ever closer to 11am, the minute hand close to overtaking its competitor. 

10:55am and Azriel was still asleep. 

The sheets clustered loose and low around his waist, mimicking the curling of his shadows up and down the ridges of his spine and across the delicate membrane of his wings. His wings hung loose and relaxed, stretching off the edges of your bed and caressing the floor with a lover’s touch. You blushed at the sight. When you and Azriel had first started courting each other three years ago, you’d thought through the mechanics of housing an Illyrian warrior in your bed — should you buy a new bed frame and mattress? Did you even have space for it in your apartment? The answer had been no to both, and yet Azriel loved when your daytime activities ended here instead of at the townhouse. If he cared about having to walk sideways to avoid the bookshelves in the halls or having to crouch to avoid the overhang above the staircase, he didn’t mention it. 

Three hours ago you’d woken up beneath the gentle weight of his wings, untangled yourself from Azriel’s greedy limbs, and crept down the stairs to your kitchen, bleary eyed but well rested. But that was three hours ago! Since then you’d brushed your teeth, washed your face, and eaten breakfast, and still the Shadowsinger hadn’t stirred. You were beginning to question whether he truly was the Spymaster of the Night Court as you sat in your velvet chair and admired your lover. You traced all the subtle movements of his body as he muddled through dreams you could only wonder at — the creasing of his brow, the slack line of his lips as he breathed, the twitching of his fingertips as he reached for some phantom object. 

The clock struck eleven and you sighed, gathering your plates but leaving Azriel’s pile of toast, butter, and honey alone. You also left the teapot and its mismatched cup, blowing magic over its lid in a silent command to keep its contents hot until Azriel awoke. 

“I’ll be down in the shop,” you whispered to his shadows, trusting that they would relay the message when their master finally decided to grace the daytime with his presence. 

One by one, shadows slipped off Azriel’s skin, curling around your ankles and wrists in a silent plea to stay. You shook them off like one might a needy child, promising you’d only be two floors down. 

The artists’ corner in Velaris was an eclectic array of compact townhouses, each outwardly dressed in their unique, dazzling finery. Your townhouse was squished between a painting studio and a luthier’s. The painting studio’s owner seemed intent on changing the color of the wooden sidings every other day and the drawings scribbled over the windows every other week. Today it was periwinkle blue to match the hydrangeas overflowing from the window boxes. 

You nodded in approval as you flipped the apothecary sign over from “Much apologies, please try another time” to “You’ve caught us! We’re open!” The blue would match your tulip yellow sidings and the clean white accents of the luthier’s. Last week it had been red and that had looked gods-awful. 

You busied yourself in the shop, crushing up lavender and herbs and boiling mugwort in fire-stained glassware in between flurries of customers until the medicinal stench in the air grew thick and strong. You were used to it by now. It smelled clean. Like home. 

You were finishing tying up a bundle of teabags when Cassian came in carrying a sturdy wooden box under one arm like it weighed five pounds instead of fifty. You snapped out the wrinkles of a cloth bag, dropping the teabags and five vials of sleep serum for the nightingale-winged nymph in front of you. 

“Four feathers and three strands of hair, as we bargained for,” you said, sliding the bag across the counter. 

The nymph nodded in approval, extending out a wing and shoving her fingers into the pillowy softness. She tested for loose feathers ready to pull.

“You’re a godsend, Y/n, has anyone ever told you that?” She pulled out three feathers, closed her wing, and started testing the feathers on the other side. “Finnigan’s was asking me for ten. Ten! Can you believe that? If I hadn’t found you in time I’d have been reduced to a plucked chicken.” She was much less precious about her mousey brown hair and yanked out three strands at random. “Oops, you get an extra strand today,” she sang, dropping the feathers and hair into the jars you held out. 

“Well it’s a good thing you found me then, Moricka.” 

“Honestly! I understand he’s got a large studio space he’s renting in the thick of the Palace, and even I will admit the ambiance is rather professional—” 

Cassian raised his brow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his scarred lips as he continued to stand motionless in the doorway. It was true your space was more… homey than Finnigan’s, but your expertise shined in intimate spaces. You liked the control and the familiarity that came from running a smaller business and you wouldn’t give it up for the world. 

“But I do think the success is getting to his head. You both studied under Lady Madja so I don’t see why—” 

You nodded absentmindedly. It was always like this with Moricka. The songbird in her made it difficult for her to stop talking, but at least her voice was pleasant. 

She threw her hands up in the air before finally catching wind of another presence in the room. Cassian waved at her with a wink and an orange blush creeped onto her full cheeks. He tended to have that effect on fae with his towering size and the wild beauty of his chiseled jaw and smattering of scars over his cheeks and brow. 

“Oh… oh dear, I didn’t realize you had another customer. Oh my goodness I’ve been talking your ear off all this time and you’ve been too kind to say anything. You’re a godsend, Y/n. A godsend! I don’t know what I would do without you, although I should really be letting you go now.” She grabbed her things and sidestepped the range of Cassian’s wings, trying and failing now to gawk. “I’ll see you soon enough again I’m sure.” 

“I’ll be here.” You sighed in relief when the doorbell rang behind her petite frame, the inoffensive smile you offered all your customers sliding off your face like oil on water. Cassian chuckled, dropping the box onto the countertop with a dull thud. 

“Long day?” 

You pulled out a stepstool and began rummaging around through the box, pulling out jars of squid ink, bark trimmings, buttons, and one particularly nasty jar containing a large eye suspended in yellow goo. “It’s not even three.” 

“Did I stutter?”

You tapped the glass and the eye swiveled around to look at you, pupil enlarging and constricting with a stutter. “Yes, yes very good,” you muttered your praise and Cassian fought hard not to shiver. He had a stomach for a great many things, but some of the specimens you handled tested his resilience.

“Thank you for bringing all of this. You’ve saved me a great deal of trouble.” 

“Perhaps you could do the same for me and tell me where my brother is? I’ve been looking for him all day.” Cassian leaned forward on the counter, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Are you holding him hostage, Y/n? Are you using your feminine powers to bring the poor male to his knees? I must admit, I didn’t imagine you as the kind capable of kidnapping. Or shadow-napping, shall we say?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m hardly holding him hostage.” You gestured down the hallway past the bookshelves and the cases of empty glassware where the light from the staircase glowed like an iron eye. “He’s upstairs sleeping.” 

Cassian furrowed his brows, stepping around and past you. He kept his wings tucked closer to his shoulder blades, careful not to upset the cramped organization you maintained in your shop. 

He smirked. “Still? Are you sure you didn't work your feminine powers last night?” 

You glanced out the store window. A few fae lingered outside the coffee shop across the street clutching takeaway boxes against their chest as they chatted and sipped their drinks. The street was otherwise empty. For now, you wouldn’t have to deal with any customers. 

You looked back at Cassian. “I actually wanted to ask you about that.”

His brows furrowed. “About feminine powers?” He'd meant that as a joke.

“Gods, Cassian let that go.” You wrung your hands. “I wanted to ask if Azriel was alright? Has he seemed… normal to you?”

“I don’t know, has he?” Cassian lowered his voice, sinking into one of the stools by the clear glass medicine cabinet. “From what I can tell he seems well. Happy.” 

Although happy was an understatement. Ever since you’d stumbled into their lives with Madja’s accolades and your wry humor, Azriel had been a goner. You’d pulled emotions from him as deftly as a spinster with a pile of wool, reduced him to a reverential, lovesick mess, and imbued his existence with a color not even Feyre could mix up. Which made it all the more confusing why you looked so nervous.

“You’ve seen more of him than I have, Y/n.” Cassian said. He braced his elbows against his knees, turning serious. The faint bags under his hazel eyes hinted at sleepless nights spent fussing over Neera. It was their fault really, any daughter of Nesta and Cassian was destined to be restless and particular.

“He just… he’s been sleeping more. Falling into bed early, but waking up late. Sometimes we’ll be reading together or just existing side by side and when I turn to face him, he’s dead asleep on the couch.” 

Cassian’s lips twitched, slowly stretching into a smile. You plucked a hemp bag off one of the wall shelves at random, tossing its contents into a mortar and beginning to grind just so you could have something to do with your hands. 

“At first I brushed it off, but it’s gotten to a point where I’ll be talking to him — mindless things, but regardless — and I’ll catch him dozing off. He’s always very apologetic after but I…” The mortar and pestle clattered to a stop. “I worry that he’s growing bored of me. Or that he’s sick in a way I can’t help.” 

“Y/n.” There was a smile in Cassian’s voice, and indeed when you looked at him, his teeth were glistening in the soft afternoon haze. His eyes shined knowingly, as if the answer were obvious.

You paused. “Yes?”

“He feels safe with you.” 

You blinked once. Twice. 

“Pardon?” 

Cassian tipped back in his seat, knocking his head against the cabinet with a rattle of jars and glass as he laughed. “He’s sleeping so much because he feels safe with you. It’s probably why he prefers to spend time here instead of at the townhouse and why he’s still dead asleep while we’re sitting here gossiping about him. Three years ago you couldn’t even whisper his name in a crowded room without him appearing from the shadows as if summoned.” 

You felt heat rise in your cheeks. “Oh... I see.” 

Cassian was grinning. “Y/n, I promise you he’s not bored of you. Azriel sleeping is a good thing. The gods know he could use more rest. I think he might be the worst of us when it comes to taking care of ourselves.” 

Something about Cassian’s words had a crack splintering in your chest. You knew about his past. You knew of the horrors burned into the ruined skin of his hands and the weight his duties deposited on his shoulders.

And here you’d been worried over him sleeping past noon. 

Shadows slipped down the stairs, pooling around your feet in a neat circle and kissing the exposed skin of your ankles. Azriel followed closely behind, still wearing his rumpled hair and pants and a shirt he’d hastily shoved his neck and arms into. He hadn’t even buttoned up the slits below his wings, opting to let the fabric swing free and loose and expose flashes of skin as he walked. 

He jutted his chin out in acknowledgement of Cassian and then folded himself over your back, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and dropping his face into the crook of your neck where he breathed in the scent of lemon and lavender and medicine. 

“You weren’t there when I woke up,” he said, frowning. There was a slur to his words.

“It’s past three, brother.” 

Azriel snapped his head up in surprise, squinting at the window and the afternoon sunlight streaking in. The pale cobblestones shone like they’d been drenched in honey. 

“What?” 

Cassian rolled his eyes, patting Azriel’s back fondly and mussing up your hair before walking towards the door. He flipped the sign from “You’ve caught us! We’re open!” to “Much apologies, please try another time.” 

“Goodnight, you two!" He called from over his back. "Remember we’re meeting at Rhys’s for dinner tonight.” He turned, bracing his arms against the top of the doorway and leaning forward like he meant to share a secret. “8pm sharp. Don’t be too late or we’ll get the wrong idea about what you two are up to.” He winked, then whistled down the street, letting the door close on its own behind him. 

Azriel sighed, going back to nuzzling his face in your neck. He peppered the sensitive skin there with kisses. 

“Will you be coming back upstairs then?” He murmured hopefully. "Now that you're finished with work?"

You bit your lip and decided rather quickly that the world would not end because you closed a few hours early. 

You led him up the stairs, past the kitchen and living room on the second floor, and then up to the third floor — your bedroom. The window was still open, the hustle and bustle of the city and the smell of coffee from across the street wafting in. Steam no longer poured from the lip of the teapot, so you knew Azriel had had something to drink, and where you’d left toast on his plate this morning lay only crumbs. 

Azriel dropped to his knees, untying your laces and helping you out of your boots. Then he straightened and tugged at the belt loops of your trousers, silently asking for permission before unbuttoning them and sliding them off your legs. Your shirt, then his shirt, and then his trousers joined the pile of crumpled clothing on the floor.

He gently pushed you back onto the bed, falling face first after you with a sigh. This was his favorite position to sleep in — you comfortable on your back and him laying with his hips slotted in between your legs and his head resting over your heart. 

You sank your fingers into his velvety, black hair. His hums of satisfaction flowed through your body, lighting every nerve with a comforting buzz. 

“Azriel?” You asked him, before sleep could finally claim him once more. 

“Hmmm?” 

“Do you feel safe with me?” 

He pressed his face further into the soft flesh of your chest, bringing his arms up and around your waist before allowing his wings to do the same. The thin membranes glowed red as hot coals, blocking out the most offensive rays of light from outside. 

“When I am with you, I forget that I was ever that boy whose hands got burned. When I am with you, the hundreds of years I spent feeling alone and worthless in this world melt away into nothing. When I am with you — when I am in this place that smells and feels so strongly of you — I can imagine a future that is good and pure and perfect.” He sighed deeply, seemingly ignorant to the pounding of your heart and the waves of feeling flooding your system. “So yes, my love — my Y/n — I do feel safe with you.”

“I feel safe with you too,” you murmured. “I love you, Azriel.” 

You kissed the crown of his head, earning one last smile and a slurred, “I love you, Y/n,” before his jaw went slack and the room went silent save for the mixing of your breaths and the stirring of shadows.

[captaindibbzy]

There is easy low hanging fruit here, especially about the US and salty tea. And I'm so SO tempted.

But also I'm super in to tea and I'm bored.

The perfect cup of tea is how you want to drink it, and if you do not LIKE tea then drinking it a different way, or a different kind of tea, vastly changes it.

A pinch of salt makes things less bitter, this trick also works with coffee. But other things that affect taste are tempriture, length of time it brews, where the tea was grown, the climate, the soil, and how big the leaves are. Some of the cheapest tea has little more than dust in the tea bag while more expensive teas you will notice have more structure to the leaves.

Tea brewed in colder tempeitures needs longer and creates a different taste. It may require more tea to get the specific flavour you want, and generally it is less bitter for it. Similar thing to spices where if you cook them, use them hot, toast them first, etc, you get a different set of flavours to using them cold.

Like wine, tea can have lots of flavour profiles and colours. Assam for example is very dark, malty, and strong, it can get quite bitter. Ceylon is much lighter. Darjeeling is good with lemon, but Assam is better with milk, in my humble opinion. Lapsang Sushong is very smokey. Earl Grey

Most people will drink a mix. English breakfast is usually a mix of Assam, Ceylon, and Kenyan. Earl Grey is flavoured with bergamot.

White, green, and black tea all come from the same plant, just different parts of it, treated differently. Black tea can take a higher tempriture, but boiling water on green and white tea will scorch the leaves and make it very bitter. Agitating the tea can also have this effect as it releases more tannin.

As a general rule there is a tea for everyone, and a way to drink it that you will enjoy, whether that's hot, cold, mixing it with spices, flavourings, fruit, milk, sugar, lemon, and yes, even a pinch of salt.

I would not, however, recommend tea that has been in the Boston harbour.

[zooophagous]

I see a post, that asks the question "you are now married to your phone background, how fucked are you?"

I close the app and look. When was the last time I considered my phone background? I can't even remember it.

On the screen before me is a purple wildflower, a bergamot, or "bee balm" plant, photographed in North Dakota in 2019 in a family member's back yard.

I am married to a bergamot. She is tall and shapely, moreso than myself, though her choice of purple raiments matched closely my own. She is my favorite color. Maybe that's how we met? Why I decided to woo her?

My wife the bergamot is a socialite. She has more friends than I. Every morning she gossips with a cabbage white butterfly, and cruelly shares their secrets with the rusty patched bumblebees, who compete for her affections with the domesticated aapis mellifera, which trail at her purple coattails like lapdogs.

Her favorite friend, however, is the ruby throated hummingbird. More insect than avian though it does contain a vertebral column, it iridesces like green beetle wings and in my heart I feel jealousy as my bergamot bride and the hummingbird kiss.

I sit with her for a season. Under the sun and the heat and the biting flies. She is covered in dewdrops and in spiders. I spare her from caterpillars and lavish my affections on her with a cup of water.

The world turns at last to its cool side, my bergamot changes her purple coat to her dusty toned night gown. She lies down to sleep and is buried beneath a bed of fresh snow come October.

Love so fleeting, marriage so brief, could I forget my bergamot and move on? Could my love be perennial and evergreen even when my beloved is not? It is winter and my bride is dead. How fucked am I?

[princessofmissouri]

room service keychain perfume

01 reason: galbanum green, bergamot rose, sandalwood white musk, iso e super

02 sorry: pink peppercorn bergamot, ylang ylang coconut, ambergris labdanum, white musk

room service instagram

[greenwitchcrafts]

September 2024 Witch Guide

New Moon: September 2nd

First Quarter: September 11th

Full moon: September 17th

Last Quarter: September 24th

Sabbats: Mabon- September 22nd

September Harvest Moon

Also known as: Autumn Moon, Child Moon, Corn Harvest Moon, Falling Leaves Moon, Haligmonath, Leaves Turning Moon, Mating Moon, Moon of Brown Leaves, Moon When Dear Paw the Earth, Rutting Moon, Singing Moon, Wine Moon, Witumanoth & Yellow Leaf Moon

Element: Earth

Zodiac: Virgo & Libra

Nature spirts: Trooping Faeries

Deities: Brigid, Ceres, Chang-e, Demeter, Freya, Isis, Depths & Vesta

Animals: Jackal & snake

Birds: Ibis & sparrow

Trees: Bay, hawthorn, hazel & larch

Herbs: Copal, fennel, rye, skullcap, valerian, wheat & witch hazel

Flowers: Lily & narcissus

Scents: Bergamot, gardenia, mastic & storax

Stones: Bloodstone,carnelian, cat's eye, chrysolite, citrine, iolite, lapis lazuli, olivine, peridot, sapphire, spinel(blue), tourmaline(blue) & zircon

Colors: Browns, dark blue, Earth tones, green & yellow

Issues, intentions & powers: Confidence, the home, manifestation & protection

Energy: Balance of light & dark, cleaning & straightening of all kinds, dietary matters, employment, health, intellectual pursuits, prosperity, psychism, rest, spirituality, success & work environment

The full Moon that happens nearest to the fall equinox (September 22nd or 23rd) always takes on the name “Harvest Moon.” Unlike other full Moons, this full Moon rises at nearly the same time—around sunset—for several evenings in a row, giving farmers several extra evenings of moonlight & allowing them to finish their harvests before the frosts of fall arrive. 

• While September’s full Moon is usually known as the Harvest Moon, if October’s full Moon happens to occur closer to the equinox than September’s, it takes on the name “Harvest Moon” instead. In this case, September’s full Moon would be referred to as the Corn Moon.

This time of year—late summer into early fall—corresponds with the time of harvesting corn in much of the northern United States. For this reason, a number of Native American peoples traditionally used some variation of the name “Corn Moon” to refer to the Moon of either August or September. 

Mabon

Known as: Autumn Equinox, Cornucopia, Witch's Thanksgiving & Alban Elved

Season: Autumn

Element: Air

Symbols: Acorns, apples, autumn leaves, balance, berries, corn, cornucopia( Horn of Plenty), dried seeds, equality, gourds, grains, grapes, ivy, pine cones, pomegranates, vines, wheat, white roses & wine

Colors: Blue, brown, dark red, deep gold, gold, indigo, leaf green, maroon, orange, red, russet. Violet & yellow

Oils/Incense: Apple, apple blossom, benzoin, black pepper, hay/straw, myrrh, passion flower, patchouli, pine, red poppy & sage

Animals: Dog & Wolf

Birds: Goose, hawk, swallow & swan

Stones: Agate, amethyst, carnelian, lapis lazuli, sapphire, yellow Agate & yellow topaz

Food: Apples, blackberries, blackberry wine, breads, carrots, cider, corn, cornbread, grapes, heather wine, nuts, onions, pomegranates, potatoes, squash, vegetables, wheat & wine

Herbs/Plants: Benzoin, bramble, corn, ferns, grains, hops, ivy, milkweed, myrrh, sage sassafras, Salomon's seal, thistle, tobacco & wheat

Flowers:  Aster, heather, honeysuckle, marigold, mums, passion flower, rose

Trees: Aspen, cedar, cypress, hazel, locust, maple, myrtle oak & pine

Goddesses: Danu, Epona, Inanna, Ishtar, Modron, Morgan, The Morrigan, Muses, Pomona, Persephone, Sin, Sophia & Sura

Gods:  Bacchus, Dionysus, Dumuzi, Esus, The Green Man, Hermes, Mannanan, Thor & Thoth

Issues, Intentions & Powers: Accomplishment, agriculture, balance, goals, gratitude & grounding

Spellwork: Balance, harmony, protection, prosperity, security & self-confidence

Activities:

•Scatter offerings in a harvested fields & Offer libations to trees

• Decorate your home and/or altar space for fall

• Bake bread

• Perform a ritual to restore balance and harmony to your life

• Cleanse your home of negative energies

• Pick apples

• Collect fall themed things from nature like acorns, changing leaves, pine cones, ect)

• Have a dinner or feast with your family and/or friends

• Set intentions for the upcoming year

• Purge what is no longer serving you & commit to healthy changes

•Take a walk in the woods

• Enjoy a pumpkin spice latte

• Donate to your local food bank

• Gather dried herbs, plants, seeds & pods

• Learn something new

• Make wine

• Fill a cornucopia

• Brew an apple cinnamon simmer pot

• Create an outdoor Mabon altar

•Adorn burial sites with leaves, acorns, & pinecones to honor those who have passed over & visit their graves

The name Mabon comes from the Welsh/Brythonic God Mabon Ap Modron, who's name means "Divine/great Son", However,there is evidence that the name was adopted in the 1970s for the Autumn Equinox & has nothing to do with this celebration or this time of year.

• Though many cultures see the second harvest (after the first harvest Lughnasadh) & Equinox as a time for giving thanks before the name Mabon was given because this time of year is traditionally when farmers know how well their summer crops did & how well fed their animals have become. This determines whether you & your family would have enough food for the winter.That is why people used to give thanks around this time, thanks for their crops, animals & food

Some believe it celebrates the autumn equinox when Nature is preparing for the winter months. Night & day are of equal legth  & the God's energy & strength are nearly gone. The Goddess begins to mourn the loss she knows is coming, but knows he will return when he is reborn at Yule.

Related festivals:

• Sukkot- Is a Torah-commanded holiday celebrated for seven days, beginning on the 15th day of the month of Tishrei. It is one of the Three Pilgrimage Festivals on which Israelites were commanded to make a pilgrimage to the Temple in Jerusalem. Originally a harvest festival celebrating the autumn harvest, Sukkot’s modern observance is characterized by festive meals in a sukkah, a temporary wood-covered hut, celebrating the Exodus from Egypt.

• Mid-Autumn festival- September 17th

Is also known as the Moon Festival or Mooncake Festival. It is a traditional festival celebrated in Chinese culture, similar holidays are celebrated by other cultures in East & Southeast Asia. It is one of the most important holidays in Chinese culture; its popularity is on par with that of Chinese New Year. The history of the Mid-Autumn Festival dates back over 3,000 years.  On this day, it is believed that the Moon is at its brightest and fullest size, coinciding with harvest time in the middle of Autumn.

During the festival, lanterns of all size and shapes – which symbolize beacons that light people's path to prosperity & good fortune – are carried & displayed. Mooncakes, a rich pastry typically filled with sweet-bean, egg yolk, meat or lotus-seed paste, are traditionally eaten during this festival. The Mid-Autumn Festival is based on the legend of Chang'e, the Moon goddess in Chinese mythology.

• Thanksgiving- This is a secular holiday which is similar to the cell of Mabon; A day to give thanks for the food & blessings of the previous year. The American Thanksgiving is the last Thursday of November while the Canadian Thanksgiving is celebrated in October

• The Oschophoria- Were a set of ancient Greek festival rites held in Athens during the month Pyanepsion (autumn) in honor of Dionysus. The festival may have had both agricultural and initiatory functions.

-Amidst much singing of special songs, two young men dressed in women's clothes would bear branches with grape-clusters attached from Dionysus to the sanctuary of Athena Skiras & a footrace followed in which select ephebes competed.

Ancient sources connect the festival and its rituals to the Athenian hero-king Theseus & specifically to his return from his Cretan adventure. According to that myth, the Cretan princess Ariadne, whom Theseus had abandoned on the island of Naxos while voyaging home, was rescued by an admiring Dionysus; thus the Oschophoria may have honored Ariadne as well. A section of the ancient calendar frieze incorporated into the Byzantine Panagia Gorgoepikoos church in Athens, corresponding to the month Pyanopsion (alternate spelling), has been identified as an illustration of this festival's procession.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Encyclopedia britannica

Llewellyn 2024 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living

[nuescent22]

Bergamot fruit botanically termed Citrus Bergamia is look-a-like of lemon. Any kind of Essential Oil you choose to blend with bergamot will surely give you a fresh and amazing smell.

Bergamot essential oil has a very versatile scent and pairs well with many other fragrances. Bergamot Essential Oil serves as an antioxidant and relieves pain in the body.