Monday, November 1, 2021

Editor's Corner


By Mary E. Adair



“Forever on Thanksgiving Day,
the heart will find the pathway home.”
— Wilbur D. Nesbit

Home may best exist in your memories and not relate at all to the place you live daily. That is why poetry speaks to people - the reminder of things held dear, hidden within one's heart. Loving thoughts of wonderful times spent with family and other loved ones abound during this time of year.

Poems for this issue as usual are ecletic, ranging through many fields of inspiration. Although the others are being published for the first time, one, "Life at Three" by Janie Burks, has been chosen to reappear in memory of your editor's dearly beloved uncle, Rex E. Joslin who had always had a zest for life, but found it less appealing after the loss of his wife. A ninety year old solid Christian, he mentioned in our last conversation how satisfied he was that Heaven was in his future, his longed for home and reunion with loved ones. Janie was his sister.

John I. Blair sent this poem, "Wrens," in mid October, then fell ill so we won't have one of his informative and inspiring "View from My Back Steps" columns this month. We wish him speedy recovery to robust health. Walt Perryman's poems for November are "Have A Good Day, Good or Bad," "Truth Or," and "Rambling on about Aging."

Bud Lemire penned "A Fish Story," "She Didn't Lose Her Fight," and "The Homeless." Bruce Clifford composed "Pacing These Floors" and "My Head is Spinning."

Judith Kroll's column (On Trek) is a reminisence of becoming a mother and the lessons learned that are relevant even now. Melinda Cohenour (Armchair Genealogy) presents a retrospective on her first column in March 2014, because of new findings. She advises that there will be more revelations next month.

Mattie Lennon (Irish Eyes) enthuses about the book "Openhearted" and updates us on news from Dublin. Marilyn Carnell (Sifoddling Along) recalls various Thanksgivings with her family and their significance to her life. Dayvid Bruce Clarkson (Reflections of the Day) compares hearing his recorded voice the first time to ways he has handled other new situations.

Thomas O'Neill (Introspective) tells how music and singing plays a part in communicating with his students and includes a link to YouTube as an example. The column "ENCORE: Cookin' with Leo" with delicious snacks and drinks is timely as we enter the holidays. Pauline Evanosky's column (Woo Woo) offers an intriguing glimpse of how channeling works, and how helpful being in touch with guides can be.

We have two authors new to our pages this issue. First is Susan Anderson Kelly with the article "Friend Garden." Second is Larry Mustain whose story "Lost" carries you with it to the conclusion. Please check out both of their bio's, as it is so easy to do by clicking their byline. Hoping to hear more from each of them in the future.

Saying again, Mike Craner and wife Susie, dear friends, support and assist in our efforts to keep this informational and entertaining publication viable despite the many demands, business, family, and personal in their lives. I admire and bless them every day. Thanks, Mike, for keeping our pencilstubs perking along.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.
This issue appears in the ezine at and also in the blog with the capability of adding comments at the latter.

Armchair Genealogy


By Melinda Cohenour

This month I offer a retrospective: my article from March of 2014 devoted to Julia Ann Johnson and the dual relationship she and I share. In the seven years following publication of this article, I have received emails, messages through Ancestry, comments through assorted media, and even snail mail! A couple of these communications are worthy of a review of my early research and of the contradictory stance offered or supplementary information provided.

Most notably, several years ago the young man enumerated in one census as sharing the domicile of Emmett and wife Julia Dalton (Roy Johnson Dalton) was ill-treated by his "adoptive parents." A concerned relative wrote me by U. S. Mail to convey validation and the proof of Roy's disdain for Julia and his complaints regarding the treatment he had received at her hands. The writer provided supporting documentation in the form of scanned letters and handwritten notes. (Unfortunately, that letter and attachments are buried in a storage unit and are currently inaccessible. At some point in the future, your author may relocate these treasures and share them as a further installment to this ongoing quest for accuracy.)

The 1910 U. S. Federal Census:

Julia N Dalton
1910 United States Federal Census
Saved To
Julia Ann Whiteturkey Gilstrap Lewis Johnson
Name: Julia N Dalton,
Age in 1910: 40,
Birth Date: 1870,
Birthplace: Kentucky,
Home in 1910: Bartlesville Ward 4, Washington, Oklahoma, USA,
Street: South Cheyenne Avenue,
Race: White,
Gender: Female,
Relation to Head of House: Wife,
Marital Status: Married,
Spouse's Name Emmet Dalton,
Father's Birthplace: Kentucky,
Mother's Birthplace: Kentucky,
Native Tongue: English,
Able to read: Yes,
Able to Write: Yes,
Years Married: 10,
Number of Children Born : 1,
Number of Children Living: 1,
Household Members 3.

Although years married was reported as 10, her marriage to Emmett Dalton was documented thusly:
1 Sep 1908 • Bartlesville, Washington County, Oklahoma
Name: Julia Lewis Gender: Female Age: 36 Birth Date: abt 1872 Marriage Date: 1 Sep 1908
Marriage Place: Washington, Oklahoma, USA Spouse: Emmett Dalton Film Number: 001305219
Household Members Age Relationship
Emmet Dalton - 40 Head;
Julia N Dalton - 40 Wife;
Roy Reynolds Dalton - 8 Adopted Son.

Kansas City Times, Jan. 21, 1910: Emmett Dalton, one-time bandit, and paroled convict From the Kansas penitentiary, is in Kansas City to place in an orphan’s home a boy, 7 years old, whom Dalton and his wife took charge of in Oklahoma. The ex-bandit proposes to pay for the support of the boy.

As to these “orphaned children”; the Daltons had adopted a boy, Roy Reynolds. The 1910 census had him as eight years old, parents unknown. According to Nancy Samuelson in her book The Dalton Gang Story, Roy was several years later adopted by people named Johnson, who were not related to Julia. Another orphan had also been adopted, but in January 1910 placed in the Perry children's home at Kansas City, as the Daltons were unable to look after this child, and for whose care Emmett paid the home $8 per month.

Emmett Dalton
as shown in The Oklahoman, June 19, 1908:
.and documented by

See the Emmett Dalton Biography ¦ 1908-1910

In addition to the writer of the letter concerning Roy Johnson Dalton a/k/a Roy Conrad Johnson, at least two qualified researchers have written me to discount the accuracy of the reported marriage of the very young Julia to Albert Whiteturkey. Their comments and supporting documentation will be presented next month.

Stay tuned!

Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.


ENCORE: Cookin' with Leo

By Leocthasme

(Encore Presentation
from the 1999 November issue of

Snackin' Stuff

Chili Dip

You can't let all your guests sit around waitin' in anticipation (or wherever they're waitin' in.) If you're a good host you'll have some snacks or goodies out so they won't stand around watchin' you watch the pot. This is a good warm-up for the main event.

Stuff you need:
1 - 2 lb box of Velveeta Cheese.
2 - 15/16 oz cans Armour's Chili Without Beans (make sure you get the cans that say Without Beans.)
1 - 16 oz jar Old El Paso Salsa (There are three kinds - Hot, Medium, Mild - get what you can stand.) Almost everybody can stand the Medium. And it gives a good kick to the mix. Mild is like eatin' baby food.
A few bags of Taco or Tortilla Chips.

How to Fix it:
You might want something like a double boiler to melt the cheese in, but if you don't have one, just be careful about meltin' the cheese in a pot over too high heat. If the pan or pot gets too hot on the bottom the Cheese will burn and stick-like Crazy Glue and you won't be able to dip it out, you'll need a hammer 'n chisel to beat it out.
OK, got that, just enough heat to melt the cheese.
Dump in the 2 cans of Chili and blend into the Cheese (of course with a wooden spoon.)
Dump in the Jar of Salsa and blend that in.
Keep the mix warm, but don't cook.

Dip right in there with them chips. That should be enough for 15 - 20 dippers.

Drinkin' Stuff

Party Drinks For Your Guests

Here are a few drinks (yep, they contain alcohol) a good party host can serve to guests as they arrive, or while they're sittin' and waitin'. But, don't forget the rules, and right now I better add a few more, as might pertain to booze and drinkin':

1. Don't use cheap booze or imitations of the better stuff.
2. Remember that ICE is for cooling - not for drinking. I'm sure, by now, you've noticed that I have made no reference to water in any recipe. In fact, I have used everything but water. In this day and age I know of no city tap water that could possibly be good for you. It's been recycled too many times as to render it impossible to clean up without adding tons of chemicals to it. And, if it is clean it would have to be distilled. You might buy bottled water, but nobody ever said the guy who bottled it didn't get it out of a tap and slap a label on it. Ice cubes bought in a store are reasonably pure, because in order to freeze them the water is passed through filters at the ice-making plant. If you entertain and cook a lot you might want to invest in a good water filter for your home.
3. Don't cook or boil alcohol - recipes that call for heated booze of any kind must be heated or warmed, but never ever boiled or cooked. Alcohol heated to the boiling point will make it nothing more than flavored water.
4. Blenders, as the name implies, are used to blend, NOT TO BRUTALIZE.
5. Never have a DRINKIN' PARTY - all parties should have FOOD and drink.

The first two recipes here gave the name to BRAVE BULL CHILI. So here is how to make a couple of Brave Bull drinks.
LEO'S ORIGINAL 'BRAVE BULL': Toss a couple of ice cubes into a bar mixer, add 1 1/2 oz Kahlua and 1 1/2 oz Tequila. Stir gently with a bar spoon to cool and strain off into a cocktail glass without the ice cubes. That's it, sip away with your chili.

LEO'S UPGRADED 'HORNY BRAVE BULL': Toss a couple of ice cubes into a bar mixer, add 1 1/2 oz Kahlua, 1 1/2 oz Monte Alban Mezcal, 1 tablespoon of pure lime juice and a dash of Louisana Hot Sauce. Stir gently with a bar spoon to cool and strain off into a cocktail glass without the ice cubes. Same drink, just a braver bull.

These next recipes are 'warmer uppers' and ain't to be guzzled up in huge quantities. Use any one of these drinks to warm your friends as they emerge from a cold night into the warm hospitality of your party.

HOT WINE: Use a large stainless steel pot. Pour in one quart, gallon, whatever, of good, very dry, heavy-bodied Red Wine. For each part of wine add an equal part of sparkling water (Unsweetened seltzer.) For each gallon of mix add 8 cups of sugar. Heat to melt the sugar into the mix.
Use your wooden spoon to stir in the sugar until it is dissolved. Add a few sticks of cinnamon and float some slices of orange and lemon on top.
Serve one (one only) in a heavy mug with a slice of fruit to each guest as they arrive.

48 oz - fresh orange juice.
24 oz - cranberry juice cocktail.
1/2 cup - sugar.
1 or 2 cinnamon sticks and 6 whole cloves.
Mix the ingredients and warm in a stainless steel pot and stir with wooden spoon to mix and dissolve the sugar.
Keep it warm and serve in a heavy mug with 1 jigger of Cranberry Liqueur and 1 jigger of Grand Marnier.
Don't put the booze into the heated pot, add to the mug when serving.
Serve one (only one) to each guest as they arrive.

This is another Greeter for your guests as they arrive, but is more suitable for the Christmas Season. Into several small, footed glasses pour 1 1/2 oz. Green Cream de Menthe.
For each drink blend 1 oz. Compari with 1/2 oz. Grenadine.
Use a bar spoon to add the red mixture to the top of the Cream de Menthe.
With a little practice you will get the red to float on top of the green. Gently let the red run into the glass over the bar spoon so that it will not pour directly into the green.

Every party needs a little punch, so here are a couple of punches to perk up the party poopers.

SPARKLING SPIKED CIDER: You'll need a warming tray and a heat-resistant punch bowl for this one. Keep the punch bowl warm on the tray, but check it occasionally to see that the punch is only warm and not hot.
To two quarts of Pommac (a sparkling aged cider from France) add one quart of Mount Gay Rum.
Pour together into the punch bowl and serve warm in 6-8 oz footed glasses.
A thin apple slice on the rim of the glass makes a nice garnish.

BERRY GOOD EGGNOG: For about 20 cups of eggnog you'll need two 10 oz packages of frozen raspberries in syrup.
2 Qts eggnog (store-bought stuff is OK.)
And, 2 1/2 cups Chambord.
Thaw and puree the raspberries and strain through a fine sieve to remove the seeds. Blend the ingredients and pour into glass pitchers and chill for at least 4 hours in the frig before serving to allow the flavors to blend together.

If you serve drinks here are a couple that will make you a standout mixologist, whatever.
'57 T-BIRD (fast and flashy): Put a couple of ice cubes into a shaker. Pour in 1 1/2 oz Vodka, 3/4 oz Triple Sec, 1/2 oz Unsweetened lime juice and 1/2 oz Amaretto.
Stir with a bar spoon to cool and mix. Strain off the liquid into a cocktail glass and serve. Toss the ice out, don't serve with ice cubes.

BLOODY MARYANNE (south of the border Bloody Mary): Fill a tall glass (12 - 14 oz) with ice cubes. Pour in 2 oz Monte Alban Mescal, 1/2 oz Unsweetened lime juice and fill with Beefamato (beef consomme' - tomato juice mix) juice.
Rub a lime wedge around rim of glass and drop in. Sprinkle a little coarse ground black pepper on top and add a dash of Tabasco.

And, here's a Bloody Mary mix you can make at home and a recipe for Bloody Mary.

BLOODY MARY MIX: Blend the following ingredients:
4 tblspns of hearty horseradish (if it takes your breath away and your eyes water, that's the right stuff,)
2 ribs of fresh celery chopped up, grated peel from one lemon, 2 oz Worcestershire, 2 tspns Cayenne Pepper Flakes, 1 tspn sugar, 1 tspn Tabasco, 2 oz fresh/frozen Unsweetened lime juice, 1/2 tspn Bitters.
Set blender on slow speed and run long enough to mince the celery and thoroughly blend the ingredients. When well blended, add to 32 oz of Tomato Juice.
Shake well before serving. Taste to see if salt is necessary, some brands of juice are salty enough.

LEO'S FAMOUS BLOODY MARY: Fill a tall glass (12/14 oz) with ice cubes (you might want to use store-bought ice instead of home frozen ice cubes - frozen tap water combined with the acidity of tomato juice leaves a bad taste.)
Pour 1 1/2 oz of Vodka into the glass, squeeze a lime wedge and drop into glass, top off with the Bloody Mary Mix.
Serve with a Celery rib for a stir stick and a slice of cucumber on the rim of the glass.

After a good meal, everybody likes a good cup of coffee. And, here's another rule for you to remember about coffee. Regardless of what the surgeon general, or whoever, says about caffeine, no coffee is any good without it. So, if you are going to fix coffee, get the very best, with oodles and gobs of caffeine in it so that it will taste like coffee.

AFTER DINNER COFFEE: Make a strong pot of coffee and keep it hot. Use heat-resistant glass mugs, if you have them. This stuff looks pretty in glass mugs.
Pour in some coffee about a little more than half full. Add a jigger of Grand Marnier and a jigger of brown Cream de Cocoa, and fill almost to the top with Half and Half or Coffee Cream (if you are going to use any of that diet powder stuff, then don't read any further.)
Top the mug with a big spoonful of Whipped Cream and shake some powdered sugar over the top.

HAIR OF THE DOG: After any big event there's always somethin' leftover. Look around the kitchen for the old, cold coffee pot. Good coffee that got cold has its use.
Get a nice big chilled glass and pour in about 6 oz of that old, cold black coffee.
Stir in 2 oz of Coffee Cream and 2 teaspoons of sugar.
Add 2 oz of Kahlua and drink 'er down.

You'll be up and cookin' in no time.  


Irish Eyes

By Mattie Lennon


Journalist Roisin Ingle is a brilliant wordsmith and she didn’t lick it off the ground. Her 81 year old mother ,Ann, has given us a collection of autobiographical essays which encompass four score years. Openhearted is described as “Eighty years of love, loss, laughter and letting go” which just about sums it up. Honesty, forgiveness, humility and wit jump out from each of its 298 pages. From meeting the man who would become her husband on a roadside in Newquay, Cornwall to intimate details of everything from an illegal abortion at age twenty-one to mastering an electric typewriter was committed to paper in wonderful prose. Born in England Ann takes us through four score years with wit and wisdom. She wrote Openhearted despite failing eyesight. She says, “I was diagnosed with macular degeneration. Judi Dench has it. I felt better when I heard that.”

A Protestant she married Irish Catholic Peter Ingle in England. Her meticulous research has thrown up some lesser known gems. Take the following, “There were probably many women like me who did not realize that after marriage they were the property of their husband and he could use them in any way he wanted, no matter what their religion. The principle was established by St Augustine and brought into law by Sir Matthew Hale in 1736 when he wrote: “But the husband cannot be guilty of rape committed by himself upon his lawful wife, for by their mutual matrimonial consent and contract, the wife hath given herself up in this kind unto her husband which she cannot retract’. It wasn’t until 1191 that this law was changed in the UK and in Ireland at around the same time.”

It must be pointed out that this passage is no reflection on Ann’s own marriage because through good times and bad it was a marriage of love.

We all express puzzlement at how outsiders sometimes have difficulty with our accents. But this wonderful English Protestant woman who joined is sixty years ago has the honesty to admit that she couldn’t make head or tail of what we were saying.

When Peter Ingle, whom she loved dearly, died in the most tragic manner imaginable, after years of mental health issues, Ann’s life went in several different directions; all of them positive. From the battle to be accepted as a student at Trinity College (which she won) to signing up for a Vipassana course at seventy years of age. She tells us that Vipassana means, “To see things as they really are.” She goes on to say that the experience, “. . . led me to believe that I already know what it’s like to be dead.”

In a chapter titled Smelling of Scones imparts some revelations. Such as telling how, in 2003, a journalist daughter (I wonder who could that be!) brought her to Lisdoonvarna Matchmaking Festival, “as a Guinea-pig.” I won’t tell you any more about that chapter; you’ll have to read it for yourself. You won’t be disappointed.

"Openhearted" is published by Sandycove. You will find it difficult to put down.

* * * * *

Original script of Sive discovered and John B. is joined by Brendan.

The attached picture by Tom Fitzgerald illustrates a great story in the Irish Examiner, October 4, 2021.

The man in the front in blue was clearing out an old house in Cork when he came upon the original script of John B’s Sive signed by the author. Karl Harding is a keen John B. Keane aficionado. He and his wife Mar determined that Kerry Writers Museum was the proper place for this treasure. They are pictured above with Cara Trant and members of the Keane family at the hand over.

* * * * *

John B. has now been joined by his friend and fellow Kerry man of many parts on the Celestial stage. Professor Brendan Kennelly, poet, storyteller, broadcaster and true gentleman was buried in his native Ballylongford on Wednesday 20th October.

Brendan and fellow poet President Higgins

Brendan was truly a person who could “Walk with kings and beggars an still not lose the common touch.” One day when talking to him I expressed surprise at a particular partnership that I considered mismatched. His reply? " My mother always said that if you were in love with a heap of dung you wouldn't see a rotten straw in it."

Brendan and John B.

He will be sadly missed by those who knew him and those who didn’t. The angelic smile of the Kerryman, who could even forgive Oliver Cromwell, will brighten up Heaven even further. I’m attaching a story that he wrote sixty-five years ago when he was aged twenty.

* * * * *

The people of Listowel don’t need any reminders of the greatness of the Ballylongford man. Nevertheless there is now a mural of one of his quotations on the junction of Church Street and Colbert Street.

Mural of a Brendan Kennelly quotation. Courtest of Mary Cogan.

See you in December.

Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.

Sifoddling Along

By Marilyn Carnell

Thanksgiving Stories

      Thanksgiving has always been a special holiday for me. A couple of stories that show why I found it memorable may explain.

      After I went away to college, I did not live in my hometown for many years, but the pull of family and friends made me save part of my vacation time to “go home” for Thanksgiving. One year I got ready to return to Minnesota on Sunday morning and found that my little American Motors car had died. When I told my dad, he picked up the phone and called my brother, who had a friend who was a car dealer.

       “Your sister needs a car,” he said briskly.

       “But Dad, it’s Sunday morning.”

       “I said your sister needs a car,” Daddy repeated.

       “Let me talk to her,” Bill said desperately.

       “Honey, what kind of car do you want?”

       I hesitated a minute and said lamely, “I think a blue one.”

       My brother was a trooper and knew how to get things done. (I think it was largely due to his being a Marine. They just don’t understand the words “No way.”)

       Monday morning a large truck pulled up in front of my parent’s house and unloaded a new blue and white Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme. I was in tall cotton. The driver and I leaned on the truck fender and signed the paperwork and I started my return to Minnesota. That was one of the years when Thanksgiving weekend was cold and icy. Emboldened by having a new car, we “skated” north and arrived safely late that evening.

* * * * *

       In 1983 I got a job in Oglesby, Illinois. I went there and found an apartment, but no pets were allowed. I had Pusser, the family cat to care for. This called for diplomacy of the highest level. I had to persuade my parents to adopt the cat. My dad had a very strong dislike of cats and found it hard to believe I lived with one. I moved to Illinois in September. We had peacefully negotiated a deal. The cat was to never come into the house and would be fed and have a bed in the attached garage.

      I came home for Thanksgiving and found that the cat was now eating in special dishes in the kitchen as other animals were stealing his food.

      I came home for Christmas and the cat was sitting on my Daddy’s lap. They established a warm relationship and Pusser was good company for my dad for many more years.

* * * * *

      Not every Thanksgiving was joyous or funny. In 1993, I flew home from Philadelphia for the holiday and found that my dad was very ill. He waited until I got home to leave this world. I still shed some tears thinking about that. He was an amazing man who overcame many adversities in life and by strength of will lived to be 89 years old. I am still grateful I was with him when he passed away.

      I don’t think I missed a single Thanksgiving holiday while my parents were living. It was always such a good feeling to be home again and enjoy the company and sumptuous feasts served each year. How I miss those wonderful days, but am lucky to have had the opportunities given me.

Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.


By Thomas F. O'Neill

People who know me know that I enjoy singing and I often sing a song or two in my classes a few times a semester.

I also like playing music between classes to wind down.

One day a few of my female students walked into my office after class, I was playing a YouTube video on my computer - the greatest hits of the 1960s.

“Hey Tom, don’t you know any songs from this century?” one student asked.

“I only like the very, very, very, old songs” came my reply.

“Why !!!!!!??” another student asked in an exaggerated voice.

“Because I am very, very, very, old,” I proclaimed.

“No no no no,” she said, “no one is that old.”

“You sing very well,” she said, “but your songs are soooooooo old.”

“Yes,” I said, “but those are the songs I know.”

“We,” and she put great emphasis on the word “we,” she said, while another student interrupted her, “we can teach you great Chinese songs from this decade.”

“Well,” I said, “if I practice really, really, hard I can probably learn how to sing some of them.”

“We can teach you some of them,” she said excitedly.

Another student walked into my office and asked, “Do you know Jay Chou?”

“No, what grade is he in?” I asked.

“He’s not a student here,” she said, “he is a very famous singer.”

“What about,” pausing for a second, “Team Wang?” she asked.

“Is that a basketball team?” I asked.

“No,” she said in a shocked voice, “they are a very, very, famous singing group.”

“I’m sure I can find those people on YouTube,” I said.

Low and behold I found a whole load of Chinese heartthrobs for my teen students to listen to on YouTube and boy they were extremely happy.

* * * * *

The video below is three of my students singing 最炫民族风 (The most dazzling national style) professionally performed by the very famous Chinese singing group 凤凰传奇 (Phoenix Legend)

Wuxi Students Singing in Thomas O'Neill's Classroom

Here is the YouTube video you may enjoy watching ....... Thomas F O'Neill's students singing 最炫民族风 (The most dazzling national style) in Wuxi, China.

Always with love from Suzhou, China
Thomas F O’Neill
    U.S. Voice mail: (800) 272-6464
    China Cell: 011 (86) 13405757231
    WeChat: Thomas_F_ONeill
    Skype: thomas_f_oneill

Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.

Woo Woo

By Pauline Evanosky

Ordinary Everyday WooWoo Activities

I asked my husband this morning if he had a suggestion for my WooWoo column this month. He asked me what I was talking about. He said what does WooWoo even mean? I said to him “Oh, you know. WooWoo! My psychic life.”

He said, “Oh yeah”. One of the things I can talk about are our telephone calls to each other. I don't know what it is but for many years I will call him, and he tells me when he’s answered the phone he was just thinking about calling me. The same happens when he calls me; I’ll have been just getting ready to call him. It doesn’t happen every time, just enough to be interesting. I believe that this might have something to do with how long we've been together. What else could it be? It's not the water. The same thing used to happen with my boss. The phone would ring in the office, and I would announce, “That’s the boss.” Most times it was.

The other thing that used to happen in the office had to do with my guides. We talk all the time. I don’t know what it is like not to talk to them anytime I want. The connection we have is always on. It’s not draining for me. It’s just how we roll. But, I was not a Chatty Cathy at work. I’ve always had a nose to the grindstone sort of work ethic, so there was no idle chatter between me and my guide. If we did talk it was more or less work related, unless they had something funny to say about whatever the situation was. So, I do admit to some humor.

Our rule in the office was to always add up whatever you were working on twice and you had a paper tape to compare the results. If you got the same answer twice you were good to go and could move on to your next task. Except, this one time my guide said to me, “Add it up again.” Even after I’d gotten the customary confirmation that my answer was right. I frowned, looked sideways at him and added it up again. Damned if he wasn’t right and I was wrong! I should mention the looking sideways move. I can’t see the guides or anybody else in spirit. Not usually, anyway. If I do see them, it is with my eyes closed and in my mind’s eye. That doesn’t prevent me from rolling my eyes at them. What I see most often with my eyes open are movements in my peripheral vision. Usually, they are a thumb’s up or down movement. Or somebody could be holding their nose if whatever I’d thought of was not the best or brightest of ideas. So, I see the profile of a face and a hand pinching their nose. Sometimes it’s just a quick round of applause.

Another thing that works particularly well for me are finding good parking spots. I actually don’t go out driving much these days, but when I do I like to park near the doors to the grocery store. So, here’s how I do it. As I’m driving toward the store I make sure I am calm. Anytime you get agitated while trying to manifest something it doesn’t seem to work. I have a certainty there will be a spot close to where I want it and envision somebody in the checkout line leaving the store and moving toward their car parked right where I want to park just as I arrive. Somehow it works. I wouldn’t say every time, because the last time I went to the store I had to park in the second row which is down a hill. I have trouble maneuvering a full shopping cart down the hill in the best of times. If I have to go down the hill I just go real slow. I suppose I could ask for assistance when I checkout, but I’ve only done that a couple of times in recent years.

It’s like the universe provides. Or, God provides, though I sort of imagine he or she’s busier with other things than helping me with my parking. Anyway, the universe provides.

The guides help me when I’m writing too. In the beginning I was nervous about doing it because they generally have really good taste and I ended up taking credit for their phenomenal writing skills. But, as the years went by I decided not to worry about it. First of all, I am accustomed to it and appreciate the efforts they make. Secondly, I do give them the opportunity to expound to their heart’s desire. Oh, that doesn’t sound right.

Dear, if we might interject.  


 Don’t have a heart attack over this.  Inspiration for everybody comes from source.  Your heart.  The center of your own personal universe.  That we appear to be separate from that source and have an identifiable space is just illusion.  We would say not to worry about it.  Take credit when we have helped you and, as you have done here, allow us the space to have center stage, as it were, when you decide to channel.  Our blessings to all who are reading this article.  Please remember you are loved.  Remember that when times get tough.  Our blessings.

Hey, thanks.  

 You are welcome.  Might you give us a fancy script for a font?  

Sure.  Something cursive?   

Whatever you wish dear.  It is sometimes confusing to read dialog without the appropriate punctuation indicating a change in voice.


I’m not sure if I’ve channeled yet in any of these articles for Pencil Stubs, but for anyone who was wondering what it was like….well, there you go. See you next month and I wish you happy holidays however

 you celebrate.  

Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.

Reflections of the Day


By Dayvid Clarkson 


 I remember the first time I heard my ‘recorded voice’. When I was about ten or eleven a friend of mine brought over a cassette tape recorder. We were going to record songs off the radio. Yea, Yea, and dinosaurs lived just a few houses down. The point is, we obviously recorded our own voices and even tried to sing a little. When I heard my recorded voice for the first time I was absolutely shocked. That was not my voice. It sounded nothing like my voice. I asked my friend if that sounded like me and he responded in the affirmative. There was no way that was my voice or even remotely how I sounded. Later on, I would play and sing, mostly backup, in several bands. Again every time I heard my voice an overwhelming wellspring of cognitive dissonance would wash over me. That is not how I sound.

To complicate matters further throughout my life I have been told, on numerous occasions, that I have a ‘radio’ voice. I have been approached to do audiobooks and guided meditation tapes. One particular instance stands out. During my banking life, I would speak to several different people in office hierarchies. I had been conversing regularly with one particular woman who worked at an office that provided us with appraisals. The normal course was to fax a copy of an appraisal followed by the original via snail mail. This one particular time she insisted on hand delivering the appraisal. When she arrived at the office she asked to speak to me. As I approached her she said, “You are not Clarkson.” I assured her I was. She was quite flustered at this point. She stammered, “No, your voice. You are supposed to be tall, dark, and handsome.” Well to her dismay I wasn’t but the voice told her otherwise.

I did not hear what others heard in my voice. To me, my recorded voice was alien. Now there might be some scientific reasons for the difference such as how our ears receive our own voice or resonance within the cranium. Regardless I did not hear myself as others hear me. And I did not hold my voice with any esteem as others did.

Now I know this is getting long but bear with me. The foregoing also applies to our physical appearance. When we look in a mirror or see our reflections in windows what we are seeing is not what others see. As the recording is a mirror of our voices so are the reflections we use to assess our appearance. Now add the filters of 'ideal' that have been ingrained by the media. We do not measure up. Keep in mind these images you see of ‘ideal’ are presented after hours of makeup, custom-tailored expensive clothing, great photographers, and great Photoshoppers. This is your measuring stick. This is not the norm. Hell Tom Cruise is 5’5” he’s shorter than me for fact's's sake. I have never seen myself as ‘good looking’. The filters that I have acquired have left me unable to see my true inner beauty.

And likewise, these same filters have hindered me in seeing the inner beauty of others. The filters have become so ingrained. I see a man wearing old loafers and no socks then think homeless or poor. I see a native and think dirty and drunk. I see a woman with purple hair, tattoos, and piercing and think weirdo or slut. These notions are so deeply rooted that they appear unannounced and uninvited. And do not tell the world you are not judgmental; at very best you will judge and hopefully correct yourself, but you will judge first. Sadly some will accept the first impression as they have been taught. Through an open heart and open mind, the ‘Observer’ corrects these impressions and I work to see the inner beauty. I listen to folks say such platitudes that appear to discard the physical impression or judgment yet I suspect the first impressions would be similar to mine. “I don’t care what a person looks like on the outside!” As they hurry to comb their hair or put on makeup. Wear the latest trends and don’t forget to show the labels. “I buy all my clothes at the Thrift Store!” That’s wonderful as you look for the latest styles to be able to afford them.

I guess I really don’t have a point nor do I have any answers. What I am working on is trying to remove the filters that society has put over my eyes. These filters lead me to uninformed and often incorrect judgments. They preclude me from getting to know folks on a truly spiritual level.

And some will say, ‘You are singing to the Choir.” and others will say, “You are not telling me anything new.”. That’s okay. I have heard it all before as well, it is just now that I am starting to understand that I have a lot more work to do than I originally thought. Maybe someday I will see my inner beauty and hear that wonderful voice. As well, I will hear and see yours.
Dayvid. Otober 25, '21

* * * * *

Grand Mother Moon is not yet in her fullness however her light illuminates the night. I enjoy living in the country, being able to see the sky without the city lights dimming my view. I am well protected surrounded by majestic evergreens swaying gently with the wind. My view looks over the lake encompassing the farmer’s fields and the mountain guardians in the distance.

I am sated with this evening's meal and I rest in a comfortable and warm abode. What am I missing?

There is this mystically deep yet fleeting yearning to understand the sojourn. I think I recognize my senses are not yet developed sufficiently to comprehend the vastness of this existence.

What I am learning is ‘Wu Wei’. It is an important concept of Taoism and means natural action, or in other words, action that does not involve struggle or excessive effort. It appears that when I attempt to control outcomes, I am somehow struggling.

When I let go and stop trying to govern the future life seems to flow. It is extremely difficult to release control when all our lives we are taught to take action, to dominate, to be the best.

A quiet smile grows on my face as I feel a reflective warmth spread through me. I will always be satisfied with baby steps. I don’t know where I am headed but I know I am traveling well. It is definitely not as I had planned it, yet I am enjoying how it is turning out. No words will ever express that quiet knowing that life is flowing as it should.

Some are on a similar journey so I encourage you to stay the course. It is easy to write; harder to live it. I will continue to practice.

Humble bow,
DayvidOctober 2, '21

Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.

On Trek


By Judith Kroll

Thru the Eyes of the Child

From the second a child opens their eyes, their world opens. Each eye is like a camera that snaps picture after picture to capture the world as they feel it. What is this? What is that? They see their mommy and smile because they put the voice with a face.

The sounds capture their imaginations, and THEN...they see their own hand. The movements of the hand. They can reach for the bottle, they can feel the pets in the house. Soon they can touch food and put it into their mouth. OH, it is fun to taste.

As they grow, seeing the world thru the eyes of our children is amazing. When they start to walk and pick up a twig, or a rock, or a bug even. Turning it slowly in their chubby hands taking pictures all the while thru their eyes.

Seeing a tree and how tall it is. I often wondered what was curious for them, and what was scary. Seeing a big body of water, when they'd only seen a tub of water. Seeing the sun, feeling the rain. So much for a child to learn and see, before they even enter school. Experiencing the tastes of ice cream, or chocolate.

I loved when they began to have an opinion. They couldn’t even talk, but knew they didn’t want to go to bed. So they cried. Crying was their communication. So much patience to be a parent.

If I return for another physical lifetime, will I have kids again? I don’t know, but what I do know is they need lots of love. I saw the world thru the eyes of three different souls. They were totally different in so many ways. We, humans, are an amazing group, that hopefully will continue to love and respect each other.

Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.

Article - Friend Garden

By Susan Anderson Kelly 


I am thinking about the Scripture, Proverbs 3:27.

    It reads: Withhold not good from them to whom it is due, when it is in the power of thine hand to do it.

I'm thinking about what this means. In the past nine years, I have gone through a very dark place. There has really only been my husband there to help me through, my husband and God. I thank God for my husband every day and give thanks to God for standing with me. I would have died without both of them. There have been a couple of friends that sought me out and ministered to me and I am grateful to God for them.

Before my "Valley of death", I would have translated that verse to mean money. When I met someone who seemed to be in need, I'd send them a check or an anonymous gift card. But I know what true loneliness feels like now and my interpretation of that verse has changed.

Sometimes, when someone is bedridden for a long time, an afternoon of conversation is the most wonderful gift they could receive. God doesn't always help us by giving money. Sometimes, He causes a good friend to call or come by for a visit. When I am up and able to get around, I'm going to make sure the few friends I have are ministered to. I want to be the hand of God when I am able. What an honor!

The 23rd Psalm tells us very clearly how Jesus takes care of His flock. I want to be more like Him. I remember when my mother and I talked to each other nearly every day in person and then later by phone. I remember her telling me that she hadn't heard from this person or that person. I would always respond, "Mother, when did you last write or call this person?" She would usually say that it had been weeks or months, and I would say, "Mother, you need to tend your friend garden" and we would both laugh.

I have had very few good friends in my life. Oh, I've had many acquaintances. Outside of church friends and work friends, there was little time to campaign or encourage more friendships to grow, in my view at the time. Time is an expensive asset and it is evenly given to everyone. We all have the same amount of time in our day - every day. I wish now that I had been wiser in choosing my friends and had tried to have more friends. I wish I had tended my "friend garden" better, and planted more friendship seeds.

We never know when trouble will come, but I know without peradventure of doubt that it will come. You will need your friends and if you have chosen wisely, your friends will seek you out in order to make sure you have what you need.

So, if one of your friends drops off your radar, or you haven't heard from someone in a while, call them and find out what their need is. Most likely it won't be money. It will be something that has a far greater value; your friend will need your time. They will need you. I know this from personal experience.

My friends who were there for me, God knows who you are and I pray He rains down blessings upon you that last your lifetime.
I love you all.

©October 9, 2021 Susan Anderson Kelly

Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.



A Fish Story


By Bud Lemire

Enjoying fish is what life's about
Whether it be Perch, or it be Trout
Whitefish is among my favorite fish
It doesn't stay long on the dish

I have a taste for Salmon also
These are fish facts, that you should know
Walleye, doesn't do a thing for me
I tried it three times, so I let it be

There is a fish, and I say “Oh God!”
You know it's Friday, when I thank Cod
In Washington State, I had Red Snapper
I'm so glad these fish, come without a wrapper

As a kid, smelt was a favorite to eat
Memories of smelting at Wells, just can't be beat
Most of my family, liked to go fishing
Except me, I picked peas and did a lot of wishing

When Friday comes around
Buying fish is where I'm found
You know it's good for the brain
Think of all the knowledge you can gain

©Oct 14, 2021 Bud Lemire

                          Author Note:

I love my Friday fish. The weekends are
even better when you enjoy what you eat...


Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.

Have A Good Day, Good or Bad


By Walt Perryman


Here is my morning living tip;
It’s not the race it is the trip.

There are some day’s life gets out of whack,
You take two steps forward one step back.

Some days you will even stumble and fall,
That’s the days you make no headway at all.

Some days you just don’t know what to do,
But, every day you should ask God to help you.

God and hard work can put you back on track,
And you can take more steps forward than back.

You’ll always have bad days along with the good,
It takes the bad to appreciate life like you should.

When you think that you can’t go any further,
God helps you put one foot in front of the other.

©September 16, 2021 Walt Perryman

Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.

Pacing These Floors

By Bruce Clifford

Pacing these floors
Retracing my steps
Erasing the past
Ignoring regrets

Walking in circles
Reliving a dream
Creating a reason
Something with meaning

It all happens anyway
It all transpires everyday
I wish the sea could take me away
It all happens anyway

Pacing the yard
Retracing my steps
Eliminating the answers
Passing each test

It all happens anyway
It’s all an emotional getaway
I wish there was an easier way
It all happens anyway

Pacing these floors
Retracing my steps
Erasing the past
Ignoring regrets

It’s good to be here
It’s good you are near
It’s good to be here

©10/11/2021 Bruce Clifford

Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.

The Homeless


By Bud Lemire 


I think about the homeless, wondering how they got that way
I'm feeling lucky to have a home, and shelter and clothing each day
When I lived in Washington, I was quite aware
On the underpass, they were sleeping there

We have homeless here, and it's really sad
The churches help them out, for that I am glad
On TV, I saw them living in boxes one time
We need to help them out, cross over that line

Give a helping hand, do our best to help them out
Doing the humane thing, is what life is all about
We have people from the border, finding jobs around here
While there are more homeless, in the USA each year

They don't have a home, food, or a place to live
It's surprising they don't get help, from a living relative
One thing that I wonder is, do they even feel loved
In a world that can be unfair, they've been pushed and shoved

Is it a choice that chooses them, or is it one they make
To be out on the street struggling, for goodness sake
I thank God for low income housing, without it I would be
Out there on the street with them, wondering how to feed me

©Oct 4, 2021 Bud Lemire

                   Author Note:

Being homeless must be a scary thing. To have to think about
each day and wonder if there will be something to eat, a place
to stay. I am sure it is even scarier with the virus going around.
Before we even begin to help other countries, we need to help
those that are down and out right here in the good ole USA..


Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.



By John I. Blair 


What is it of wrens, those tiny thugs,
That makes me, lonely, talk to them,
Makes me blurt “hello, how are you?”

They look like animals I’d like to know,
To get acquainted with could I
But penetrate their laser concentration

On picking lunch off window screens.
Their chunky, streamlined bodies,
Built for agility, built for poking

In places I can’t even see, inspire
Admiration, respect, but likely
Only because I’m not a bug.

©2021 John I. Blair, 10/17/2021

Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.

Rambling on about Aging


By Walt Perryman


I am rambling on about aging this morning,
If you’re not old enough, it may be a warning.

As I am going through life and getting older,
My mind seems to be getting a little bolder.

When I was young, I didn’t say what I wanted to.
But nowadays something is changing because I do.

Before getting old, I often did not say what I meant.
Now, I do if I am talking to a hobo or the president.

I was always trying to be something that I was not.
But not any more or maybe it’s something I forgot.

Now, I tell it like I see it, and sometimes I’m wrong.
Maybe this is what happens after we live this long.

Some of you may not know what I am talking about.
But when you are old enough, you will figure it out.

©October 1, 2021 Walt Perryman

Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.

Life at Three


By LinnieJane Burks

(Brother Rex)

Blue-eyed boy in pants so short
Led a neighbor's dog named Sport;
And his own two, named Mac and Fluff
All, he thought, were quite "the stuff."

Up to town and back again
Guided by a mere twine string,
Love should keep them close, you see
To this blue-eyed boy of three.

One day, wild alarm was spread
Thru' the neighborhood, it said,
"Go and look for Rexie! Do!
He has not been seen since two!"

Searchers hunted here and there;
Hearts were sunk in black despair,
Till a cry of "Found!" arose
From the lips of some of those

Searching a deserted shed
Far behind the house, they said,
"He's asleep -- safe and serene'
With three dogs -- it's quite a scene."

One summer night the twilight gloom
Bro't with it a quarter moon.
He spied it as he threw his ball
While listening for the supper call.

He studied it, then in he ran
To Mother, and in haste began
Lamenting it, in tones so feeling,
"The moon's all gone, it's just a peeling."

You ask who was this laddie wee
This precious blue-eyed boy of three.
Oh! No! To tell you is no bother,
This Rexie was my baby brother.

©1946 Linnie Jane Burks

Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.

She Didn't Lose Her Fight


 By Bud Lemire 


They say “she lost her fight with cancer”
Did she? On the Other Side, she's now a dancer
She may have left Earth, the way that you know
In the Spirit World, she carries a bright glow

So you see, she didn't lose the fight
She is in a better place, within the light
She went through the doorway, to a much better place
Just remember this, if this should be the case

The better choices, are always the ones to take
In the places we call home, until we are Awake
Awake meaning, the soul awakening once more
As we journey, to the place we've been before

Before our life ever started, here on Earth
In the Spirit World, that happened before our birth
She didn't wear any boxing gloves, to win any fight
She left this world without pain, embraced by the light

In Heaven, there isn't any pain
You use your soul, and not your brain
She didn't lose a fight, in fact, she won
Her Spiritual Journey has only just begun

©Oct 7, 2021 Bud Lemire

Author Note:

She won the fight, and the reward is the light
of Heaven. We feel she may have lost, because
we shall miss her here on Earth. But her pain
is over, and she is free of it. We should think of
a better way of saying it. “She won her fight
with cancer, and the reward is an eternal visit
to Heaven.” Now when I say that, it doesn't mean
she can't come down to visit us in her spirit form.
They do that often, for the soul connection to us
is Forever. And Love does last forever, when it is
embedded in the soul for an everlasting time.


Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.

Truth Or


By Walt Perryman


I would be lying if I said I don’t,
So, I won’t.

Is a little white lie just as bad as a major lie?
I know that a lie is a lie, but I am not sure why.

I guess little white lies are something we all do,
And sometimes we’ll throw in a major one too.

So, I am going to try to tell the truth today, all day!
Therefore, I will have to listen to every word I say.

Sometimes the truth can cause an excess of sorrow.
I don’t want to do that, so I will try again tomorrow.

©September 9, 2021 Walt Perryman

Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.

My Head Is Spinning


By Bruce Clifford


My head is spinning
Another day is done
Time to get moving
Time to have some fun

My mind is tired
I can feel it crack
The leading edge
Taking it all back

The world keeps turning
Seasons of a new
A traveling circus
Hope for a breakthrough

The sideways game
Another long night
Motion and clouds
The end never in sight

My head is spinning
Another day is done
Looking for answers
Under the sun

© 10/1/2021 Bruce Clifford

Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.