The Year The Ceiling Caved In

Living The Tower Card

If we were at my kitchen table right now with tea in our hands, here’s what I’d tell you.

This year tried real hard to kick my ass.

Not in a cute glow up way.
In a black mold, falling ceiling, panic attack in the bathroom kind of way.
When I looked at the tower, I never imagined that my kingdom would literally crumble on top of me

When the house went feral

Earlier this year we found black mold where it had no business being RIGHT after I closed the mall location. The kind that eats ceilings for breakfast.

One day we had a ceiling.
Next day. Nope.

Life turned into contractors, trash bags, boxes, and way too many phone calls. We lost our home. We spent money we did not have on repairs and a place to sleep. I tried to work out of another space, and lost a ton of stock and supplies on top of it.

Ten out of ten. Do not recommend “ceiling collapse and mold” as a character arc.

Veteran family life behind the scenes

While all that shit was going on, we were still a disabled veteran family trying to keep it together.

Picture it in the background.
VA calls.
Meds and side effects.
Mental health ups and downs.
Me on the phone, pressed into some corner of the house, on hold for the fifth time, trying not to cry. Then crying anyway.

I have watched my husband wrestle with stuff most folks never see. It hits your brain. Your body. Your spirit.

A lot of my teas, balms, and little rituals were born right there. Me going, what can I make that takes this down even five percent for us, for other vets, for the people who love them.

So when y’all buy from my weird witchy shop, you are not just “supporting a small business.” You are helping a disabled vet family hang on.

When tea costs a kidney

Then the economy went full chaos goblin.

Prices went up. Shipping went up. Rent went up.
Tariffs punched small shops right in the throat.

Fun fact. You can’t grow green tea in a northern New York winter. So I have to import it. When tariffs and freight shot up, it was not some policy debate on the news. It was me at the table like.

Can I even afford to restock this.
Do I raise prices and hope y’all get it.
Do I eat the cost and just pray.
Is this the month the math snaps.

We also lost a lot of our Canadian traffic that used to be a big chunk of sales. Border stuff. Gas. Exchange rate. It all stacked.

There were months where sales hit record lows out of my ten plus years of doing this. I stared at the shelves and thought, maybe this is it. Maybe I shut the doors, get a “normal” job, and walk away from all of it.

What kept us alive

Here is the wild part.

Y’all kept us alive.

You bought tea.
You grabbed balm when your skin or your kid’s skin was pissed off.
You picked up candles and simmer pots so your house could smell like a witch cottage instead of “oh my god life is stressful.”
You booked psychic readings when your life felt like the whole Tarot deck exploded on the floor.

You shared posts. You told your friends, go check out this witchy vet family shop. You sent messages like this is the only tea that helps my anxiety, this balm is the only thing that works on my kid.

Every order ping was not “oh cool, money.” It was, okay. We can pay one more bill. We get one more month. One more day.

Behind the scenes we still had nights sitting at the table with a stack of bills, picking which fire to throw our tiny cup of water on. But there was always another cup, because y’all kept handing them to us.

The weird in between

We spent a long time in limbo.
Housing help limbo.
Inspection limbo.
“This office says this, that office says that” limbo.

I tried to keep enough stock to stay afloat without sinking in costs. Tried to remember which box my damn labels were in. Tried to show up for folks who see this shop as a safe space, even when my own life felt like a grease fire.

Your notes meant more than you know.
“Your shop is my safe space.”
“Your reading helped me make a huge choice.”
“Your products helped me feel human again for a minute.”

Every time I thought maybe I should quit and go hide under a rock, I thought about that.

Why we ain’t closing

There were a lot of “be smart and close” signs.

A nine to five would be easier in some ways. No tariffs. No surprise ceilings. No late night label panic.

But then I think about the vet who told me my tea finally let him sleep. The spouse who said she stopped feeling crazy after a reading. The kid who quit scratching their skin bloody. The local folks who walk into the shop and you can see their shoulders drop like “okay, I can breathe in here.”

This ain’t just a shop. It is a tiny lifeline. For me. For Jed. For a lot of y’all.

So I made a choice.

The Magick Apothecary is not going anywhere.

We are not pretending this year did not chew us up. But we are still here. Still witchy. Still veteran family. Still that stubborn little pocket of magic in a sharp ass world.

The money talk

Here is the part nobody likes.

Prices are going up a bit.

My costs went up on tea, herbs, jars, all of it. And I have been undercharging for readings and hand made work for years.

So some product prices are nudging up. Psychic readings will cost more going forward. Not wild. Just honest for the work and the bills.

I am not doing this to swim in gold coins like a dragon guarding its horde. I am doing it so this shop can stay open and so I can show up for y’all without burning all the way out.

I am still keeping lower price items and under twenty dollar things, because I know most of us are broke right now and I do not think magic should only be for rich folks.

If you have had readings with me before, you will see special chances to lock in your old rate for a bit. That is my thank you for riding this out with me.

What is coming next

Because y’all kept us going, I finally get to plan instead of just put out fires.

Here is what is coming.

New luxury skin care out of my skincare science brain.
More tea blends and tinctures for sleep, nerves, grief, focus.
A collab with a local business that I am stupid excited about, even if I have to keep the name quiet for now.
More classes, circles, and workshops, online and in person.
Stuff made for vets, spouses, and caregivers, because we know that life from the inside.

I am done trying to look like a perfect business owner. You are getting the real me. Slightly feral kitchen witch. Science nerd. Vet spouse. Tired as hell but still here.

How you can help, if you want to

Zero guilt if you cannot buy a thing right now. We are all just trying not to scream into the void every day.

If you have some money, shop small this season. With me. With other local shops. With that artist you love. Every tea bag, balm, candle, reading, and gift card matters.

If you have more time than money, share posts, comment, save, tell a friend. Leave a review if something I made helped you. That free stuff really does move the needle.

If you have neither, read this, light a candle for the small shops hanging on, and send a good thought. That counts too.

If you made it this far, you sat through my “gurl, you ain’t gonna believe this year” story over tea. Thank you for that.

Thank you for every order.
Every share.
Every “hey, go check out this place.”
Every time you picked a witchy veteran family over some big box store that would not even know your name.

Here is to Yule.
Here is to Solstice.
Here is to the light crawling back in after a long ass night.

From our little chaos house to yours. We see y’all. We love y’all. And we are so damn grateful you are here.

With love,
Seth and Jed Magos
Witch, tea alchemist, tired humans, and the heart of The Magick Apothecary