March was a month of contradictions: heat waves, violent storms, & fog thick enough to feel like a second skin. My time at the Inn at Blackstone ended the way all hauntings do: quietly, decadently, with the sense that the walls were watching. I left the Inn at Blackstone with its quiet luxury still echoing in my bones, stepping back into a world that couldn’t decide whether it was winter or spring.
Between storms, I tended to the cursed vegetable bed; my ongoing ritual of soil, rot, & intention. The first sprouts pushed through in February, impatient little omens demanding to be planted, demanding to be witnessed.
The store grew alongside the garden. Five handspun skeins stepped into the world, each one a relic in its own right: Cotton Candy (pastel goth sweetness), Sage (quiet & herbal), Threshold Ember (a hearth‑born gradient), Spectral Thread (a whisper of something not entirely alive), & Belgian Chocolate (dark, rich, & indulgent). Only one of each exists. Once they’re gone, they’re gone. It feels like opening a new door in the CryptCrafted universe.
Three new albums: Winter’s Lull, Breaking, Raised Bed Ritual - Process Relic, & The Leopard Sleeps at Blackstone, joined the archive, each one capturing a different facet of the season’s strange mood. Together they form a strange little constellation of March, quiet, feral, domestic, & haunted.
While Payhip & Ko-fi shelter the Leopard, FeetFinder & Fanvue harbor all the albums.
April is on the horizon, & I’m already gathering what it will ask of me.