My Garden and I Aren’t on Speaking Terms Right Now

Hi everyone, I’m a new kid here at The Pagan and The Pen. I’ve spent most of the morning thinking about what my first guest post should be about, all the while staring out the dining room window at my angry, cold garden. So, I’ve decided to blog about that sad patch outside in hopes of making it feel better.

I live in Edmonton, AB. Our growing season is about four months, if we’re lucky. Today, for example, it’s 6C outside (42F), pouring rain, and windy. This is not representative of the rest of Canada. My partner happens to be in Toronto today, where it’s a fair bit warmer. But not here. Here, my tomatoes are under three layers of blankets because it’s going down to near-freezing tonight.

I look back at the aboriginal peoples who first lived on this land and marvel at how any of them managed to live. The berry season is laughable short. At least the wild roses are edible (and quite tasty).

I think about how spoiled I am. I don’t rely on my garden to feed my family. (Please don’t tell my basil that. I’ve been berating it for curling from the cold, telling it that we can’t afford to buy fresh basil at the store, and so it needs to suck it up). I can just go to the grocery store or the farmer’s market and buy whatever I want. This is a hobby, not a means of survival.

As I look out at the tomatoes huddled under Winnie the Pooh blankets stolen from my step-children’s beds, I marvel how lucky I am to be able to grow “exotic” plants (like tomatoes) in this climate because of the fun of it, not because I rely on it to feed us through the winter.

But, next year, I think I might plant more local plants. Saskatoon berries are rather tasty, after all. And they don’t need blankets in May.

Krista D. Ball

She Murdered Her Own Babies…

A Texas mother, going through a divorce, got her first chance at visitation. You’d think she’d take the kids for a happy meal, or for ice cream, or to do something fun. No, instead she takes her children to an abandoned home and then slits their throats.

That’s right, Debra Jeter attempted to kill both her babies and then calmly walked out of the house while one of them begged for her life. Just as calm, she called 911. You can hear that call and read the story HERE.

If you listen to the 911 call, it’s chilling. How someone can sound so heartless, especially while one of their kids is begging them to get help. How someone can kill their own children anyway….

I don’t even know what to say concerning this. I know it breaks my heart and I know it pisses me off. And, it mucks with my mind because a Mother is God… in the eyes and heart of a child.

While we have so many every day pointing fingers saying, you are damned, you will burn in hell because you are gay or are tolerate gays, or watch out, Evil will get you

The only evil I have seen in the world, is not supernatural, but  is what people do in real life. And this story alone, is the perfect example….

Because it’s not Vampires, its not Shadows lurking across the room, its not what’s hiding behind the closet door, its not a devil, a Satan, or a Pagan god…

It’s the everyday and average person. And in this case, it was someone’s mommy.

Just pisses me off.


C.H. Scarlett


Everyone should light a candle for the child that did survive…barely. While her sister, Kelsey, is now at peace, that surviving child Kiersten, will have a lifetime of broken hearted nightmares to endure.

And tonight, hug your babies and if you don’t have children, hug someone else’s.


And if you think or ever meet someone on the internet or in life, who might not be what they seem to be…and you want them monitored or think they should be investigated,  Expose and Report is a good link to have handy. They deal with Facebook, Myspace, the internet, and the FBI.

39 Days of Prayer – Day 6

Day 6 – Praising the Infinite

I honor the Goddess of all things known and unknown

She who is made of shadow and light

Chaos and order

Who provides the balance within my heart and mind

And loves me as I am.

I honor the God of all things seen and unseen

He who is made of strength and passivity

Who cradles and sets free

Who teaches me the power of speech and silence

And loves me as I am.

Blessed be.

Grief, and not letting go

Bereaved people will often find they are encouraged to ‘get over it’. Sometimes those who are deemed excessively grief-stricken will find themselves on anti-depressants even. Society allows us a little compassionate leave to sort out the funeral and any other practical details. Then we are supposed to ‘get over it’ and be back on form.

Some losses aren’t that hard to take. The death of an elderly relative or friend who had lived a good life and passed over gently, is not always that traumatic. We grieve the personal loss, celebrate the life lived, and wish them well on their journey. Such losses, along with those of people we weren’t so close to in the first place, it is indeed possible to ‘get over’ in a reasonable, socially acceptable time frame.

But what happens when it isn’t? The devastating loss of a soulmate, or a child, or of someone close who was far too young to be taken, can leave gaping holes in the lives of those left behind. When death is entirely unexpected, traumatic, brutal, or leaves too much unresolved, there is no quick and easy way of healing.

About a year ago, a friend of mine died. She was in her thirties, and left a husband and young child absolutely devastated. I’m still grieving for her too, quietly. I regret the things I didn’t tell her, and the things we weren’t able to share. Some deaths its possible to accept, others take a lot more getting used to.

For the sake of the living, we are supposed to put on a brave face, and cope, even when loss has broken us. This is a cruel nonsense, perpetrated (I can only assume) by people who have never been ripped apart by the loss of a loved one. Some people never form close bonds, or get a fair way into life before they lose their grandparents. It’s not an easy thing to understand until you’ve been through it.

About the worst thing to do to a person who is grieving is to suggest that they will feel better in time. Part of the point with this degree of devastation is that there is no desire to ‘get over it’, the loss is too great. Learning to live with the gap a loss creates can take a lot of time, whole ways of thinking and being have to change. The best thing to do is listen, let the bereaved one speak of their loss, as much as they need to. Let them tell the stories that make them laugh, make them cry, and share those recollections with others. It is ok to grieve. It is necessary, and it takes some people longer than others.

 So do not demand of yourself, or anyone else that they ‘get over it’. Sometimes that isn’t an option, and there is nothing to do but carry the loss and have it become part of who you are thereafter. That’s a valid choice to make. If there is nothing to do but live with the loss, that should be honoured and respected. Some people in our lives cannot, must not be forgotten or let go of, and there should be no obligation on the living to ‘move on’ or ‘get on with their lives’. So long as a person is reasonably functional, no one has the right to demand more than that in the face of loss.