you can almost see the cells multiply

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Blood, Soil and Love

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It’s been so long since I’ve written anything here, I feel a bit embarrassed really.  Plans that I had long ago for articles I’d wanted to write have gone unfulfilled, research material compiled is in a box somewhere in my cellar room.. but I have a good reason for my neglect.  The best reason!

I have successfully replanted myself back into my native soil.

It took some time, for the roots to take hold once again, but everything is growing beautifully now 🙂

A happy little family.  A wonderful man and the sweetest most lovely little baby girl, and me, the luckiest woman in Europe 🙂

My husband and I have started a new blog together and are in the process of expanding its content.  Once it is something we are proud to present, I will post a link here for all of you to check out.

Thanks to everyone for your patience and understanding through this long break, and I look forward to writing again soon.

Sincerely,

jlorik

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The Sorrows of Young Jlorik

Women of Corinth,

I have come outside to you.

 

Alone once again,

A vacuum inside my heart.

My home, where once again

I have to be my own Protector

Echoes with the silence of my own misery.

There are no more tears left to cry.

 

I am the small and delicate creature

Plucked from the bush,

Going about its business.

Ripped from its routine, suddenly

In a new world of large, firm, strong hands;

Timid, a bit frightened

But loving the warmth and tightness of the embrace,

Mesmerized by soft words,

Lovely visions of a bright future

Safe from harm.

 

Oh so perfect!

The ice-cold lake far back in the forest

Felt so warm somehow.

The flies did not bite that day

Out of respect.

The Nature

Recognized us as One with Her.

The tracks of the Bear

Fresh, in the soft mud

Showed themselves to us, and we followed

To the place where we would build our home.

Described to me, so clearly

The vision we both shared and cherished.

 

You told me often

Of the child who would visit your dreams:

A young girl

With lightbrownish hair, the same colour as mine.

Long and free

Blowing in the wind

Along with her white dress

As you walked through the forest

Speaking to her in your mother tongue.

 

The night I introduced you to my cold and restless friend

The Ocean.

Pounding waves and salt-filled mist

Consume your senses as you open the car door.

A flood of emotion

Such as I had never seen

And you ran so far down the long white beach

I couldn’t see you anymore in the moonlight.

Running back to me

And throwing yourself down in the sand and seaweed

I knew

You had found your home here

With me

And I could rest inside

For the first time ever.

 

The Choir of the Frogs performed for us

And the Porcupine showed us his special dance

Only we know the melody to.

 

Nighttime drives, the sound of the Pigs, and the poutines.

Love is every treasured moment doing ordinary things.

 

You asked me to take you back to that one place

By the harbour

Where we could watch the lights of the entire city

And the ships going out to sea.

Triple-tripled and hand-in-hand, we walked together

To the rocks on the shoreline

Not knowing

This was the night

When you would lose your mind.

 

Suddenly, everything we had built

Was dashed upon those blue rocks.

Anxious, frightened, confused

Looking to each other for comfort

But finding none.

No reassurance to be had.

 

The child was dead.

Before she could ever be conceived

You slaughtered her like a rabbit

Hung her from a tree

Cut out her insides and skinned her

Right before my eyes.

I can still hear her crying

Every night when I try to sleep.

Our hopes and dreams

In that bloody bucket

Full of intestines and slippery organs

Bits of red fur

And small, delicate white feet.

 

The blood of a child

Devoted innocence, defiled

Stains his hands.

The hands that would take a tiny creature

Win its love and trust

And destroy it utterly.

Helplessly gasping for breath,

Every bone broken,

It lies on the concrete

Wishing for death,

Finding no peace.

 

“My full, warm enjoyment of all living things

That used to overwhelm me with such delight

And transform the world around me

Into a paradise

Has been turned into unbearable torment,

A demon who pursues me

Wherever I go.”


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Tender shoots sprout forth

Tender shoots sprout forth

Nourished by the love between the Sky God and the Earth Goddess, their strength and beauty will grow each day..


Reflection and the Road Ahead

Today is my birthday.  It is a time when I like to look back over the year passed, and think about what has changed, how I’ve grown, what I’ve accomplished, and the direction I am heading in the year to come.

In many ways I feel like a completely different person than she who sat here one year ago.   I feel connected to my Forebears and my heritage in a new and deeply personal way.  I have rubbed my eyes and blinked away the myopic perspective of modernity and its callous indifference.  I envision my honourable European ancestors: my grandfather, his father, his father, and so on, stretching back in a long long column, leading back to ancient Europe.  It gives me great strength and helps me to understand and remember what is truly important.

What used to be directionless angst and frustration at the establishment around me is now clear, focussed drive for action, alongside a community of like-minded brothers and sisters.  I see our people, united, draw great power from each other.  Inspiration and courage spread among the strongest and brightest, scattered though we may be.

The events of last July marked a point for me where this all became deadly serious.  We all have our “we’re not gonna take it” moment and to me, this is when I felt almost like my own family was being attacked (very much extended family in a way I suppose).  That was when I knew, this has gone beyond something you discuss heatedly over coffee or yell back at a lying news anchor on the television.  I felt compelled to use my skills and tools at hand to create something helpful.

I have rid myself of that daily poison pill and the genocidal mind-fog that it causes.   I have cleaned out my bathroom vanity of all unnecessary and toxic chemical cosmetic products.  I have sourced my eggs, chicken, rabbit, beef, fish and wine from people I personally know and trust.  I continue to adjust my diet with the goal of eliminating all processed foods which bear the kosher symbols of corporate racketeers.  I prepare for the coming of spring and the planting of vegetables in my own backyard.  I plan for the day when I can throw off the shackles of mortgage-debt slavery and build the home of my own design on my ancestral land.  I work to develop the traditional skills which are becoming to a woman: sewing, cooking, baking, gardening, caring for children.  As I search for my husband and the father of my children, wherever he may be, I focus on becoming the woman he would want as the mother of his children.  I know he will appreciate my efforts.

 


Birds of a feather flock together: The sacred feast of Váli

Festival of the Kin. I very much prefer that 🙂

Vinland Heritage

Dear pagan readers,

February 14th is commonly being designated as “Valentine’s Day”, the day of lovers that is nowadays celebrated with roses, heart-shaped boxes of chocolate, romantic gifts and valentines given to those beloved. Some couples even make a point to go out for dinner or to go see a movie on this day to express their love and rekindle their passion for each other. February 14th is indeed a very special day. That is exactly why the early christians felt the need to assimilate this pagan feast in order to facilitate the conversion of our forebears. Long before the two early Christian martyrs named Valentine that this special day is currently named after lived, the ancient Europeans in Northern Europe celebrated February 14th(around the 24-25 of Sokkvabekkr in the ancient calendar) as The Feast Day of Vali also referred to as The Festival of the Kin. This day was…

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Winter forest

Winter forest

December 25


Enemy mine

It is all too easy for us to accept what is written on Wikipedia as “fact”. Chechar confirms what many of us had suspected about this resource which prides itself on being “editable by anyone”…

The West’s Darkest Hour

Make no mistake: Wikipedia is our enemy.

I was officially retired from the wiki but now that I tried to say something in the talk pages of the wiki articles on Aztec and child sacrifice I followed the recent contributions of one of the editors with whom I had a terrible discussion some years ago, which led me to the wiki article “Racism”.

WikipediaYes: most wiki editors are real goners and we know it is useless trying to discuss with them. The Judeo-liberal trick of their site lies in what they call the “reliable sources” policy, which means that you cannot quote alternative media or even the intellectuals, scholars and historians that the anti-white establishment marginalizes. While trying to edit wiki articles you got to stick to the sources that had obtained the System’s imprimatur, especially articles dealing with race, ethnic conflict or the subversive tribe.

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