Bramblewood Stables

Growing up in the Blue Ridge Mountains, there were people everyone knew to call.

The woman who could pray the fire out of a burn.

The relative who could stop bleeding with a prayer.

The grandmother who planted by the moon and watched the birds for signs of changing weather.

For generations, these practices weren't considered strange. They were simply part of life.

So why are so many people suddenly fascinated by Granny Magic, cottagecore, and the forgotten traditions of our ancestors?

In this week's essay, Kim Carter explores the folk practices of Southern Appalachia through family stories, cultural history, and her own witness statement about the mysteries she's encountered with horses, prayer, and life on the farm.

Whether you're deeply rooted in these traditions or simply curious about the world they came from, this is an invitation to explore the intersection of faith, folklore, and the enduring wisdom of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

📖 Read the essay or 🎧 listen to the narrated voiceover here:
🔗 https://stableroots.substack.com/p/granny-magic

Afterward, we'd love to hear from you.

Did your family pass down any old remedies, rituals, or traditions that are still remembered today?

For decades, Bramblewood Stables has helped children and adults learn alongside horses. Over that time, one surprising lesson has emerged:

The ability to learn may have less to do with intelligence and more to do with attention.

In this week's Stable Roots essay, Kim explores the science behind learning styles, working memory, and why horses have so much to teach us about focus, curiosity, and becoming beginners again.

Through stories from the barn, a stubborn girth buckle, and lessons learned from both children and adults, this piece asks an important question:

What if one of the most valuable skills we can develop is simply the ability to listen?

Read or listen to "Shut Up and Listen: The Uncomfortable Skill That Makes Learning Possible" in the comments.

Before Lavender Hill, before owning the land beneath our feet, there were years spent building Bramblewood on borrowed ground.

This week, Kim reflects on a dream, an iron gate in Tryon horse country, an eviction that changed the course of her life, and the realization that losing what felt permanent was the very thing that led her home.

"When I first hooked up with my ex-husband, the Turk, he lived on the bottom floor of a grand house with a Japanese soaking tub, an old cedar sauna, and sweeping gardens in the middle of horse country in Tryon, NC.

“Off a main road of legacy farms and rolling fields of Irish-green grasses, you reached his house by navigating a meticulously maintained dirt road flanked by even more farms and crystal clean, mountain streams. From the dirt road, a huge, iron gate marked the long driveway, passing over two bridges, to the house.

“Before I met my ex, I had dreamed about that driveway in such detail that the first time I traveled it in person, I stopped my car, got out, looked around me, and gaped in disbelief.

“I had been there before."

Read the full essay or listen to the voiceover edition of this week's Stable Roots below.