32 Sure Ways to Find out if Your Neighbour is a Witch! ( no wart-inspection needed! )
Most of her clothes on the washing line are black.
The local kids talk in whispers as they go past her house, then start running at the last moment.
Nobody trick-or-treats her house; not after the incident when the kids' costumes were less scary than hers when she opened the door to them. (She was embracing the Crone that year no doubt!)
She hardly ever gets junk mail. You ask her what her secret is and she confides that she returns it to sender after writing something on in strange curly writing.
When you pop next door for a chat, the kettle is always already on.
The Jehovah's Witnesses never call ... not anymore ... not after the last time.
Footprints on the roof. And the trees in her flight-path have been pruned down. I swear it's true!
Has a pond full of frogs, and you haven't seen that bothersome double-glazing salesman around for a while.
Doesn't kill spiders. Not even big hairy long-legged ones that suddenly appear from the waste-pipe whilst you're having a bath.
You ask her for suggestions for nice walks in the area, and they all go by way of stone circles and strange earth mounds.
She's always smiling, darn her!
She goes dressed as normal to a Hallowe'en fancy dress party; and wins first prize.
Has named her four cats Beelzebub, Kali, Diana, and Moonbeam ... or her rats Devon and Cornwall.
Her bumper sticker reads: "I Brake For Toads"
Frequently gets raided by the drug squad who confiscate large amounts of dried green leaves; they always return them with apologies after analysis.
A screech owl has chosen the lamp-post outside her house as its favorite calling-post. That's just when it's getting warm at night and you like to sleep with the window open.
She was given a bodhram drum for her birthday. And she plays it at midnight in the fields. And she's got a blasted tamborine.
You discover that her realistic resin skull ornament in her living room, actually is real.
You catch her washing a crystal ball along with the dishes.
She wears a lot of silver jewelry, even when doing the gardening. And bat earrings for goodness-sake.
She has a tame robin that will eat from her hand in the garden. That can't be natural.
Never catches a cold, even though she walks barefoot most of the time. In the snow as well.
She listens to what you are saying like she really cares.
She has lots of female friends who come round every few months. When you ask what they get up to, she tells you that they just have cakes and ale and a good natter.
All the stray cats in the neighbourhood tend to congregate in her garden ... and use your own as their litter.
You notice that the parish priest crosses himself whenever he walks past her house.
She makes jars of quince and mandrake relish for the Women's Institute coffee morning jumble sale.
You ask to borrow a pack of cards for an impromptu bridge evening, and there are 78 in the pack.
You have never known her to visit her GP.
Expectant mothers are forever visiting her. Also women who become expectant mothers a month after visiting her.
She tells you that she is coming out of the broom closet, joins Witches' Voice, and erects a stained-glass pentacle window in her front door.
You catch her hugging a tree.
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