You ever meet someone who seems like they’re just making soup… but somehow you leave their house emotionally rearranged?
Yeah. That’s her.
The Oracle at the Crockpot.
She’s got flour on her shirt and three kinds of salt in her pantry. She talks about bay leaves like they’re little shields and stirs stew like she’s decoding the future. You think she’s making dinner. Nah, she’s invoking something.
This woman will hand you a biscuit and casually say,
> “Don’t forget the garlic today. Trust me.”
And boom—two hours later you’re dodging drama like Neo in The Matrix!
She doesn’t brag. She doesn’t wear a crown. She probably clips coupons and composts banana peels. But make no mistake:
She’s the high priestess of the pressure cooker.
The sage of the simmer.
The quiet storm behind the stove.
Her kitchen smells like rosemary and revelation.
You walk in feeling tired. You leave feeling seen.
And while the world argues on the internet, she’s at home slow-cooking solutions. Listening to the whispers in the steam. Turning leftovers into love. Tending to the kind of wisdom that comes from generations of “make do and heal anyway.”
Is she a witch? Maybe.
Is she your grandma? Could be.
Is she you, in about ten years and a few dozen herbal tinctures from now? Absolutely!
So next time you’re chopping carrots and humming something you don’t remember learning, don’t be surprised if the veil gets thin and the soup tastes like clarity.
Just don’t forget the garlic.
She told you so.
Yard 2 Yield! 