Have decided to change career. I currently do not have a garden which will not stop me from becoming a witch. At age twelve I had romantic notion of becoming a nun. Now I have found my true vocation: Fling a frog or two into the cauldron. Stand by. Wait for explosion. Keep stirring. Don’t get distracted. Think Risotto. Risotto needs close attention. Which is why I prefer anything with a lid on, that can be shoved into the oven without consequence. Slowly falling off the bone.
All I need now is a broom and some flying lessons. And a new wardrobe. I shall be the Vivienne Westwood of witches, sprinkled with a little Zandra Rhodes: No black for me. Orange will be fine. If any of you have kittens you consider drowning please do let me know. One will do. Colour immaterial as long as it’s not white.
What else to put on my wish list? Apart from the elusive? An eye patch. Be careful what you wish for.
You’ll find me where it says: “Zee trespassing of wizards and fellow witches always welcome. Hansel and Gretel keep out!”