The Satanic HouseWife

The Satanic HouseWife has 3 articles published.

Gypsy Snow writes as The Satanic HouseWife. She is an environmentalist, a feminist voice, and a gatherer of knowledge and growth. Gypsy is also a mother who supports traditional homemaking that simultaneously bursts the bubble of societal gender roles. She follows a Satanic path that is reflected in her morals, values, and every day actions.

Hail, Sweet Home: Altar Space Reimagined

Hosting an altar is a wonderful way to incorporate Satanism into our daily lives. An altar is a constant reminder of my path that I see daily, and is comforting to me. I enjoy seeing the values I hold reflected in the various baubles and object d’art displayed on my altar, and I feel refreshed on my path when I put out a newly designed altar space. Satanists, Pagans, Witches, and more folx following alternative religious and non-religious paths host altar spaces for myriad reasons. Yours can be a sacred space that you only enter during mediations, for clarity, or in devotion. An altar can be designed for a specific…

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Hail, Sweet Home: Celebrating Beltane During Quarantine

Welcome to the return of Summer. Nature is ramping up her game and soon we will find ourselves in a verdant world humming with precious life. Many Pagans, Witches, and Satanists recognize April 30th / May 1st as Beltane – a Pagan holiday of fertility, fire, and Summer. While we watch the Wheel of The Year turn again, many are left wondering how best to celebrate Beltane in quarantine. A few aspects of Paganism that I truly connected with were rituals, community, and holiday celebration. I carried those with me when I found my Satanic path, and have made it a tradition to celebrate the holidays and host the rituals…

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Hail, Sweet Home: Running “Fowl” with Satanic Principles

All black melanistic rooster

I’ve always had this dream of owning a couple of chickens. I envisioned having a cute painted coop, with me in my apron spreading seed on the ground while humming to myself like some Disney princess knock-off. I would name my chickens after the Golden Girls sip tea on my porch while watching them peck peaceably in the yard. After moving to suburbia I finally got the chance to experience real chickens; consider my original dream-bubble busted, as tends to happen when we come face to face with real self-sufficiency. Even though my chicken-vision was truly a thing of bucolic fantasy, I was still determined to move forward with my…

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