Everyday Witch Tarot

Sinderella's note

The Everyday Witch is the Rider-Waite, my child, if somebody replaced the medieval airs with women who have jobs, cats, and a sense of humor. The Hierophant is a witch teacher. The Empress is thriving. The Two of Swords has a problem she's solving herself, over coffee. *Madonn',* it's charming, and every Rider-Waite book still works with it. For the niece who thinks 'witch' is a compliment. Saint Brigid for the ones who wear the word proudly.

The long version

Deborah Blake wrote the Everyday Witch Tarot and Marcus Mc Keon illustrated it, and what they made is the most *cheerful* Rider-Waite-structure deck I've sat with — and I mean that as a real compliment, my child, because I was not expecting to like it as much as I do. The Hierophant is a witch teacher surrounded by students in a warm cottage. The Empress is sprawled in a garden, thriving, cat on her lap. The Tower — and this is what won me over — has a smiling witch flying away from the falling building on her broom. The building is still on fire. The chaos is still real. But she's *handling it.* That's the sensibility of this whole deck. Not denial, not false cheer — just competent, grounded witchcraft applied to hard circumstances. The Rider-Waite symbolism is intact underneath: the suit symbols, the number associations, the elemental framework. Every book written for RWS-structure decks still works with this one. Llewellyn has been publishing solid working tarot tools since before most of these younger decks were sketched out, and the Everyday Witch has had years of readers using it — the corner-case meanings are documented, the companion book is practical. For a beginner who finds the classic Rider-Waite stiff and cold, this deck opens the practice without sacrificing the learning structure. For an intermediate reader who wants a lighter-hearted everyday pull — not for the heavy readings, but for the morning card before coffee — this is the one I reach for from the kitchen table, not the folding table in the back room. The kitchen table, where the readings are lower stakes and the light is better. The humor is real but never at the cost of the reading. Saint Brigid for the practitioners who wear the word proudly. Deborah Blake for the quiet workhorses — the writers and teachers who do the slow work that actually builds something.