A Historical Year

July 6, 2026June 25, 2026 / Susan O. / Leave a comment

Is it already the 250th anniversary of America? It feels as if we just got over the Bicentennial celebrations of America’s 200th birthday. It’s hard to explain the Bicentennial to my kids, because there’s just nothing to compare it to. If you weren’t born before 1971, it’s just a random piece of history, along with the Oil Embargo, the Hostage Crisis, Live Aid, and Timothy McVeigh. People planned the celebrations for ten years – the committees were formed under Johnson in 1966. Everything was about the Bicentennial. It was on TV, radio, in the magazines and papers. In Cheshire schools, we sang all the America songs in glee club, a breathy childhood version of the “Hooked on America” track of Hooked on Classics – from Give my Regards to Broadway up to Over There and The Marine’s Hymn. I was in 5th grade, and there was no possible way you could escape it. Norton School made a time capsule – which will be opened this year. For me, I can’t imagine anything in it would be interesting – it seems so recent, I’m sure I can still find the same things in the corner of my attic, but to today’s children, no doubt pet rocks, velvet posters, and platform shoes would seem other-worldly, and 45rpm record would be unheard of.

Anything and everything historical became the rage. 1776 couture was lacking, but 1800’s wear was the rage – long prairie skirts, sunbonnets, ruffled-neck peasant blouses. It was chic to grow your own food. We had Earth shoes and gasohol (okay, that was from the Oil Embargo, but in 1975 we were still running it), and the EPA. Because of the Embargo, our 8-10 mpg V8s were frowned at, and little efficient Japanese cars were starting to be imported (Toyota outsold Volkswagen in 1975). Save the Condors and Save the Eagles were daily news – bald eagles, the very symbol of our country, were down to fewer than 1,000 nesting pairs in the lower 48 states – three million square miles, and less than 2,000 birds because our use of DDT had poisoned them. California condors were nearly extinct – 29 surviving birds were rounded up and put in captivity, their last chance at survival.

Home crafting saw an upsurge. Did they do it in colonial America? Let’s give it a try! Log cabins were again fashionable, though a whole lot bigger. Spinning yarn, knitting, crocheting, macrame – all popular again. Quilting was big – a huge, hand-made quilt was made in our town, each square representing a town landmark. It made the rounds around town when it was finished, through the schools, and now hangs in the town library. In school, we made decoupage plaques. Mine was of a drawing of a pioneer woman outside a mercantile.

In 1976, most coins looked alike. A 1960 penny looked like a 1975 penny, a 1947 nickel looked like a 1974 nickel, etc. For 1976, the US Treasury minted Bicentennial quarters, with a colonial drummer boy on the reverse, and the dates of 1776-1976 on the front. You tried never to spend them; they were a one-year only coin, to be forever hoarded. The silver dollar got a redesign, but those coins weren’t as popular due to their size. Have you seen an Eisenhower dollar? They used to be more common.

An actual Bicentennial Wagon Train was formed. Yes, Conestoga wagons were built, and costumed people started in the west and traveled in a wagon convoy across the US, to assemble in Valley Forge Pennsylvania in time for July 4th. They marched right up route 70, and Darcey School gathered at the fence line to watch them pass. A fleet of tall-masted sailing ships from around the world – 34 countries – assembled in New York Harbor for July 4th. I know, I know, the Polish ship was five weeks late, but sailing a ship that far comes with a lot of uncertainty due to wind and weather – just ask the Mayflower.

In pop culture, Holly Hobbie, dressed in her prairie attire, was the Hello Kitty of her day, plastered on anything that would hold still. Barbie wore maxi skirts. Gunne Sax dresses were the height of fashion. Anything everywhere possible was red, white, and blue. Even fire hydrants were painted patriotically. Green and pink were unheard of outside of The Preppy Handbook. Apollo missions ended, and the first reusable orbiting shuttle – the Enterprise – took its maiden flight from the back of a 747. People dressed up and re-enacted Washington crossing the Delaware.

The fireworks that year broke budgets. TV televised the Washington DC ones, but our TV was black and white, so it was lost on us. We enjoyed the local local ones.

While there’s been mild interest in having bigger celebrations for the 250th (and the $100,000 word for it is “semiquincentennial”), there have been no official plans, on a local or national scale. Certainly, nothing has been worked on for the last ten years, and no other countries have shown a desire to help us celebrate. If we travel back 200 years to 1826, we can celebrate the publishing of Last of the Mohicans, by James Fenimore Cooper, a book still popular today. It was the year where both Thomas Jefferson and John Adams both died on July 4th, Founding Fathers to the end. Regency dresses were fading out and Leg of Mutton sleeves were coming into fashion. It was the birth of Stephen Foster, the songwriter who wrote “My Old Kentucky Home,” “Oh, Susannah,” and “Camptown Races,” among many others.

In 1776 – even 1826 – most celebrations took place at home anyway. So make some lemonade, sit around a bonfire with some barbecue and corn on the cob, read the Declaration of Independence, perhaps knit or crochet or embroider something. You can watch Last of the Mohicans, Hamilton, or the musical 1776, and check out these books and films that celebrate America!

Patriotic Films:

The Patriot

Flags of our Fathers

Yankee Doodle Dandy

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington

Handicraft Books:

Macrame: the Craft of Creative Knotting for Your Home

Embroidery: Techniques and Patterns

The Complete Photo Guide to Sewing

Complete Book of Woodworking

Gardening for Everyone

Big Book of Bread

Recipes of the 13 Colonies

History:

1776

The Whites of their Eyes: Bunker Hill, the First American Army, And the Emergence of George Washington

Alexander Hamilton

George Washington’s Secret Six

My Bicentennial Summer

Liberty is Sweet: The Hidden History of the American Revolution

Historical Children’s Fiction, Hysterically

June 8, 2026June 4, 2026 / Susan O. / 1 Comment

Have you ever had that feeling of dismay when something you believe and love is crushed before your eyes?

Having finished our last communal reading book, my youngest brought me another book off her shelf to read together, Bread and Butter Journey, by Ann Colver. Printed in 1972, it’s my original Scholastic copy. I loved this book when I was eight, steeped in the hoopla of Little House on the Prairie, from which I sidestepped into B&BJ, Caddie Woodlawn, Let the Hurricane Roar, Anne of Green Gables, and more. The illustrations being done by Garth Williams, of Little House fame, only made it that much dearer. I hadn’t read it in 40+ years, but I hadn’t forgotten the details. I was happy to read it again.

Bread and Butter Journey follows the 1784 travel of young Barbara Blaum (age never given, but somewhere in the 8-10 range) from her home in Pennsylvania to Ohio, where her father and her father’s friend were buying up farmland on the frontier. As in all stories with children, she misses home, misses her father, hates her brother, and in the end learns to love life more than things. Wholesome pioneer reading for the 7-11 crowd, and it’s based on the journals of the real Barbara Baum, the author’s husband’s great-great grandmother. Should be good, right?

But I am not eight anymore, and I’ve studied a lot of college-level history, especially the settling of the west. And the more I read this time, the more horrified I became, crushing my cozy memories. This book was not just historically inaccurate; it barely fit under the term historical at all. I kept stopping cold and explaining the problems to my girls as we went.

My first question mark arose when they made way on the path for the Pony Express. Hold your horses! This is Pennsylvania, 1784. The Pony Express only ran for 18 months, and the furthest east it went was St. Louis, Missouri – in 1860, 80 years in the future! I burst out laughing when they mentioned hyenas howling in the night. Yes, hyenas. An African animal that I assure you with total faith was not in the wilds of western Pennsylvania in 1784, not even in a zoo, and no one out there had ever known of. Just what was that woman thinking! I will let the idea of putting up fruit preserves slide, even though berries would be out of season (October at least). Canning food wasn’t invented until 1795, and the common Mason jar until the 1860’s. But people had been preserving fruit in jellies by pouring the jelly into pots and “sealing” them with wax or waxed paper since at least the 1500’s, so I don’t believe it, but I’ll allow it as possible. They seem to make bean soup in the matter of an hour, when anyone who’s ever dealt with dried beans (including Laura Ingalls Wilder) knows they must be soaked overnight, and even then, it takes more than an hour to cook them. In addition, it wasn’t legal to settle in the Ohio area until 1787, with the first permanent settlement in 1788. Yes, American Indians (probably Shawnee) had every right to kill anyone encroaching on their land.

Argh. The only thing that was actually right was the state of Pennsylvania existed, and there actually was a Fort Hannahstown in Western Pennsylvania. I was crushed, to say the least. My daughter loved the book anyway, though after treasuring it for so many decades, I’m ready to get rid of it.

So what books are historically accurate for children? Okay, in 1970 we didn’t have an internet, and research had to be done in libraries or textbooks, by far a lot more time-consuming. There’s no excuse for any inaccuracies today. My favorites have always included My Brother Sam is Dead, by James and Christopher Collier, which won a Newberry in 1975 and takes place in Connecticut during the Revolutionary War. You can actually visit some of the places in the book, and if not the exact place, the towns still exist. Beware that the book is often banned in Southern schools, for including the words “hell,” “damn,” and “bastard.” Rough stuff. Spies on the Devil’s Belt is from the same era, and also takes place on the shoreline of Connecticut.

The entire American Girl series, whether or not you want to plop down $150 for each accompanying doll, is praised for its historical accuracy. Covering different cultures and eras, from Kaya, a Nez Perce girl from the mid 1700’s, through Julie, who celebrates Chinese New Year in San Francisco in the 1970’s, the stories will give a good glimpse into what it was like to live in that time period. They’re uncomplicated, and it’s their simplicity and focus that keeps them from falling apart.

The Little House on the Prairie series give an excellent view of 1870’s America, by someone who actually lived it. Same with Tom Sawyer or Huck Finn, perfectly accurate because Mark Twain lived them. Laurie Halse Anderson’s Fever 1793 and Seeds of America trilogy are highly regarded, as well as Number the Stars, by Lois Lowry, which won the 1990 Newberry Medal. Johnny Tremain, another oldie but goodie, still rings true today, despite its 1944 Newberry Medal. If you can find it, the book On to Oregon! by Honoré Willsie Morrow (and made into the movie Seven Alone) tells a mostly true tale of the seven Sager children who are orphaned on the trail from Ohio to Oregon. The children actually do make it all the way on their own (with a newborn) to Marcus Whitman, a real missionary who took in many orphaned children, but the movie (and tie-in novel) ends happily, ignoring the horrific end that awaited several of them during the Whitman massacre just three years later. Another book of their journey is For Ma and Pa: On the Oregon Trail, 1844 (go ahead, cue the game sound. You know you’re going to.).

What we live today is tomorrow’s history. Children may not see or understand the significance of what they live through today, but twenty years from now they will (I’m still not over the Watergate trials preempting my 8 year old TV watching, but I do get the point now). Spark an interest in the past with any of these or other amazing books, but remember, there are – and never were – no wild hyenas roaming Pennsylvania.

Ever.

For hands-on experiences for children, check out Old Sturbridge Village, just over the line in Sturbridge, Massachusetts, or Mystic Seaport, in Mystic, Connecticut (which is somehow farther away than Sturbridge) (discount pass here).

Honest Looks at Motherhood for Mother’s Day

May 10, 2026May 6, 2026 / Lauren / Leave a comment

I once, briefly, had beautiful hair. In 2019, tired of the constant maintenance required by my standard-issue short bob, I decided to stop visiting the hairstylist. The Covid lockdowns in 2020 were a convenient excuse to continue the experiment. By the time I had my first child in the summer of 2021, my hair was lustrous, thicker and longer than ever (thanks, pregnancy hormones!), and shot through with cinnamon-brown highlights. On the rare occasions that I washed and dried my hair during maternity leave, I could almost pass for a mildly successful TikTok influencer.

Then, on cue, the postpartum hair loss started. Strands fell out at an alarming rate. Bouts with Covid and daycare-transmitted viral infections caused even more hair loss. I saw parts of my scalp I didn’t know existed. By the time I returned to work from having my second child, my hair resembled Albus Dumbledore’s phoenix, sad and ragged, a dark echo of its former glory (except for the new grays, of course). So, I went to the salon and had them take it all off, snipping and shaving me down until I had a pixie cut. I officially had my Mom Hair. I was in the club. I was no longer subverting gendered expectations, but living the reality of the most gendered expectation of them all.

I’ll spare you the other indignities that come with giving birth to another human being, but know, if you haven’t done it yourself, that they are legion. So are the complex social and emotional changes that happen when you transition to parenthood, and specifically to motherhood. Your whole identity changes overnight. That’s harder to talk about than the stupid hair thing. And the longer I’m mired in the day-to-day reality of being Mama / Mom / Mamba to two young kids, the harder it is for me to remember those changes, let alone articulate it to others. Luckily, there are women out there who have been able to do it. It’s not all beautiful, not like the flower arrangements and the precious handprint art that will be exchanged on Mother’s Day. But they provide an illuminating glimpse into motherhood for those on the outside. If you’re a mom like me, these titles might hit you right where you used to have ab muscles.

Honest Motherhood: On Losing My Mind and Finding Myself by Libby Ward (2026)

From the publisher: In Honest Motherhood, Libby candidly shares her journey of unlearning the myth of the ideal mother. She dives headfirst into the experiences many mothers have but few feel safe enough to say out loud—the lack of support, the guilt, the invisibility, the cycles they’re breaking, and the fantasies about a hospital stay just to get a flippin’ break. Libby untangles her social conditioning from learned trauma responses and discovers that letting go of unrealistic standards, asking for help, and prioritizing herself aren’t failures—they’re necessities.

I’ll Show Myself Out: Essays on Midlife and Motherhood by Jessi Klein (2022)

From the publisher: In Emmy Award-winning writer and producer Jessi Klein’s second collection, she hilariously explodes the cultural myths and impossible expectations around motherhood and explores the humiliations, poignancies, and possibilities of midlife. Klein explores this stage of life in all its cruel ironies, joyous moments, and bittersweetness.

Screaming on the Inside: The Unsustainability of American Motherhood by Jessica Grose (2022)

From the publisher: In this timely and necessary book, New York Times opinion writer Jessica Grose dismantles two hundred years of unrealistic parenting expectations and empowers today’s mothers to make choices that actually serve themselves, their children, and their communities.

Nightbitch: A Novel by Rachel Yoder (2021)

From the publisher: An artist turned stay-at-home mom becomes convinced that she is turning into a dog and, as her symptoms intensify, struggles to keep her alter-canine-identity a secret, until she meets a group of mothers who may also be more than what they seem.

Mama Needs a Minute!: A Candid, Funny, All-Too-Relatable Comic Memoir About Surviving Motherhood by Mary Catherine Starr (2025)

From the publisher: Filled with Starr’s signature wit, warmth, and observational humor, Mama Needs a Minute! tackles all the absurdities of modern motherhood through illuminating anecdotes and delightful illustrations. Whether you’re navigating a hellish sleep regression, wiping sweet potato off the walls, singing your four-thousandth lullaby, or simply hoping to pee without a toddler watching, this honest and irreverent account of motherhood will make you laugh, cry, and feel seen in a way that only a true mom-friend can.

I Was Told There’d Be a Village: Transforming Motherhood Through the Power of Connection by Melissa Wirt (2025)

From the publisher: Melissa Wirt thought she had everything-she’d built her own company and moved to a beautiful farm with her family. Then during a personal crisis, she realized: despite having created an online community reaching thousands of moms, she’d also somehow, become utterly isolated. In I Was Told There’d Be a Village, Melissa describes how she began making small changes-leaving behind a damaging Isolation Mindset and developing an advantageous Village Mindset. Using personal anecdotes and stories from moms across the country, this book provides specific, actionable steps to transform oppressive, solitary parenting into a connected, collective (even joyful) endeavor.

The Push: A Novel by Ashley Audrain (2021)

From the publisher: Blythe Connor is determined that she will be the warm, comforting mother to her new baby Violet that she herself never had. But in the thick of motherhood’s exhausting early days, Blythe becomes convinced that something is wrong with her daughter—she doesn’t behave like most children do. Or is it all in Blythe’s head? Her husband, Fox, says she’s imagining things. The more Fox dismisses her fears, the more Blythe begins to question her own sanity, and the more we begin to question what Blythe is telling us about her life as well. Then their son Sam is born—and with him, Blythe has the blissful connection she’d always imagined with her child. Even Violet seems to love her little brother. But when life as they know it is changed in an instant, the devastating fall-out forces Blythe to face the truth.

A Woman’s Work: Reclaiming the Radical History of Mothering by Elinor Cleghorn (2026)

From the publisher: Mothers make history. But what it has meant for mothers to do the physical and emotional work of mothering has, for centuries, been neglected in the stories of the past. Patriarchal control of motherhood has relegated the acts of growing, birthing, nurturing, and loving to the sidelines, and deemed it unimportant, women’s work. Now, through the voices of women themselves, Elinor Cleghorn reclaims and retells the history of motherhood, showcasing the mothers, othermothers, midwives, activists, community leaders, and more who have shaped the course of history.

Motherthing by Ainslie Hogarth (2022)

From the publisher: A darkly funny domestic horror novel about a woman who must take drastic measures to save her husband and herself from the vengeful ghost of her mother-in-law. Abby Lamb has done it. She’s found the Great Good in her husband, Ralph, and together they will start a family and put all the darkness in her childhood to rest. But then the Lambs move in with Ralph’s mother, Laura, whose depression has made it impossible for her to live on her own. She’s venomous and cruel, especially to Abby, who has a complicated understanding of motherhood given the way her own, now-estranged, mother raised her. When Laura takes her own life, her ghost starts to haunt Abby and Ralph in very different ways. Ralph is plunged into depression, and Abby is being terrorized by a force intent on taking everything she loves away from her. With everything on the line, Abby must make the ultimate sacrifice in order to prove her adoration to Ralph and break Laura’s hold on the family for good.

The Mill on the Brook

April 13, 2026April 11, 2026 / Susan O. / Leave a comment

*Huckins Road, circa 1983, when it was passable until it rained.*

While Cheshire is currently known as the Bedding Plant capital of Connecticut, did you know we were once a powerhouse of apples?

Way back when, in another century, when I was quite young, I can remember there being two apple trees far in the back of our yard. They were ancient, barely alive, and looked like something out of the Wizard of Oz, black and gnarled like a corpse’s hand. If they put out ten apples a year, it was a record. In fact, the entire neighborhood – the triangle of streets just past Darcey School – had these apple trees. It’s not surprising, since the old farmhouse at the top was built in 1780, the same year Cheshire was incorporated. Farms grew apples not so much for pies, but for animal feed, cider, and vinegar, which was used in pickling and preserving foods, as well as a cleaning agent and for curing hides. Apples were important.

Some fifty-five years ago, when the lower half of Huckins Road was nothing more than a dirt path, impassable to anything short of a jacked-up four wheel drive truck or tank, and the first house was being built, my father would take us for walks there, down this exotic uninhabited Brigadoon, most importantly teaching us to avoid the poison ivy that grew thick on the sides. There were two paths through the forest, and both led to beautiful waterfalls. The near one, across from our property (and loaded with poison ivy), was small, no more than 2-3 feet high, and narrow enough that if you put your feet on the right stones, you could hop across. But further down the road, past Darcey, was a high one, with a pond above it (since badly silted in by the flood of 1982). And by the pond, above the waterfall, were two stone pillars. My father, who not only had two degrees in history but whose babysitter so many eons ago had been the Prospect Town Historian, who could possibly have been born in the 1600’s, told me back then that the pillars had belonged to a mill, to hold a mill wheel driven by the waterfall. The fact there could have been industry nearby made sense to me, since the land and trees between our house and Darcey suggested an old road, and we had come across old coal deposits and odd bits of rusty tools buried in the dirt, waiting for child archeologists to treasure them.

They were fond memories, but that was all. No information seemed to exist about it. Most old maps of Cheshire stopped at the Notch, since that was where trolley and train stops were (check out the old track humps on Pamela Lane, or the bridge by Mixville Park). The Historical Society had never heard of it.

But the pillars remained. They knew they existed, and they remembered the history better than I did. Although in my teen years we played in that stream, walked up it to the big waterfall, the thick brush, briars, and mud discouraged us from further exploration (as well as the man who owned the property, who liked to fire his gun if he saw anyone so much walk down the road. And I was his papergirl.).

*This view of Cuff Brook became a bookcover*

But I am a determined researcher, and after decades of waiting for an internet to be built and the right information to be loaded onto it, I hit paydirt. I came across an old map of Cheshire, from 1868, that not only showed a cider mill, but two cider mills on what is actually known as Cuff Brook (no one ever knew it had a name, it was just The Brook). The T. H. Barnes Homestead still stands, built in 1817 (we knew it as the Bear’s House, because the Bears lived in it at the time, but the Barnes family took it back, and I know this because one of the Barnes was my babysitter), and these pillars may very well have been part of their old property (they have a small pond by the house, but no waterfall to turn a wheel). I believe the house marked Jos. Barnes is the one on the corner of Huckins and Hickory Lane, which dates from 1742, and has an entire tree as a crossbeam (because I used to babysit the kids in that house. Maybe we need a book called The History of Cheshire Through Babysitting). I find it amusing that the same streets are already there, including the unpaved Moneta Lane across from Winslow, and that across the street from the newly built Barnum School at Marion and Jarvis is a label of “School No. 5.” (The Hotchkiss house across from it dates from 1805, and still stands). The more things change, the more they remain the same.

So plant some apple trees this year, and bring back a piece of Cheshire history (I had two at my old house on Marion, and one was certainly old enough to date back to at least 1920). It’s good for the bees, and heirloom apples are a treat (there are more than 7500 varieties!). Cheshire is ripe with orchards, the oldest being the now-closed Norton Brothers Farm (1757), followed by Bishop Farms (circa 1780, where, in that other century, before houses seized the land, I worked picking apples, peaches, and cherries). If you need help, check out these books on apples and Cheshire!

Grow a Little Fruit Tree

How to Grow Food

Encyclopedia of Gardening Techniques

Gardening for Dummies

Home Grown Pantry

Apples of Uncommon Character

Legendary CT

New England Orchard Cookbook

Apples are from Kazakhstan

Fire cider! : 101 zesty recipes for health-boosting remedies made with apple cider vinegar

Cheshire

Landmarks of Old Cheshire

Witch Book to Read

March 30, 2026March 26, 2026 / Susan O. / Leave a comment

Twilight set off a whole graveyard of vampire romances, and then came werewolf romances. For a while paranormal romance was the genre of the day, with people falling in love with ghosts or people in past lives – no doubt fueled by time-travel stories like Outlander. When the person you love died 200 years previous, it makes that guy at the coffee shop seem rather dull in comparison. Monsters are a thing, especially in cozy fantasy – even dragons can be a thing (let’s not forget Donkey and his Dragon mate in Shrek!). Zombies picked up the slack, but are now fading away as a genre – you can only kill them twice.

So what’s currently “trendy” in genre fiction? What have we circled back to? Cozy fantasy is all the rage, little stories with a slice of life that ends happily, whether you’re an ogre or gnome or pixie. Horror is making a comeback, including something called Fem-gore, which is written by women for women, and includes a lot of bloody-warrior revenge themes. LGBTQ stories and stories of people of color are on the rise, giving a long-overdue boost to underrepresented segments of the population. But the largest rising genre? Witches and wizards.

She made a child do her dirty work – good or evil?

No, we’re not talking Lord of the Rings or Dragonlance (though you can read Dragonlance for either the action sequences or the burning romance of Raistlin and Crysania), but the Earthly plane stories that encompass every facet of storytelling. Magic stories. And magic is the realm of witches and wizards. Witches aren’t usually evil, even if, thanks to Wicked, we’re not sure Glinda is completely a good witch.

Technically, a male witch is called a … witch. Wizard is also acceptable, the difference being a wizard is usually academically oriented [think Gandalf] while a witch is more self-taught [Granny Weatherwax from the Terry Pratchett’s Discworld books]. Mage is also appropriate, but warlock is a slur. Witchy stories have been around forever – the Biblical Witch of Endor (10th century BCE), Circe of Homer’s Odyssey (8th century BCE), Hecate of the Greek pantheon (Hesiod’s Theogony, 7th century BCE), Merlin the Wizard and Morgan le Fay of Camelot (minimum, the 1100’s, possibly as early as the 400’s), and the witches of Macbeth (1606). Let’s not forget the witches of The Wizard of Oz, or the terrifying Dust Witch of Bradbury’s Something Wicked This Way Comes, the marvelous Eglantine Price of Bedknobs and Broomsticks, Samantha Stephens of Bewitched, the Halliwell sisters of the TV show Charmed, or The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe. The image of witches was improved by the popularity of Harry Potter and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Children’s stories aside, the rise of New-age witchcraft has no doubt helped the rise of witch stories as well.

“Witch” or “wizard” is appropriate for men

How did witches come to have such a bad rap? Throughout history, and amplified through Dark Ages ignorance, learned men and intelligent women, women who could read, women who were opinionated, or women who had some sort of good or bad fortune that couldn’t be explained by simple means, were suspected of using dark magic to gain their knowledge, even when it benefited the community itself. Magic, voodoo, and good or bad spirits were all people had to explain what was to them unexplainable any other way. Maybe your sheep all had twin lambs, but neighbor Geoff, who took poor care of his sheep, had 5 die in birthing – surely you must have worked dark magic on his sheep! All your 15 children survived the plague? You must be a witch! While New-Age witches study nature in all its forms, in reality, no study anywhere has proven that magic – not the magician kind – has any basis in fact.

Modern stories of magic run the full gamut, from cozy mysteries (such as those by Bailey Cates), humorous fantasy (Terry Pratchett’s Color of Magic series), Courtly intrigue without the morbid gore of Game of Thrones (The Chronicles of Amber series by Roger Zelazny), to the wildly popular Discovery of Witches series by Deborah Harkness, and the book and TV series of Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files. If you don’t like the idea of reading a fantasy book, try a more mainstream author like Alice Hoffman’s Practical Magic series, or The Year of Wonders, by Geraldine Brooks, or A Secret History of Witches, by Louisa Morgan. Harry Potter they are not.

My favorite witches of literature? Gandalf, of course, from Lord of the Rings, along with Molly Weasley and Minerva McGonagall from Harry Potter, Ole Meg from Clifford D. Simak’s A Heritage of Stars, Raistlin Majere of Dragonlance, and perhaps Lady Jessica Atreides in Dune (yes, the Bene Gesserit are witches).

If you’re looking to put a little magic in your life, or just escape the pressures of our Earthly plane, check out some of these trending books!