Wednesday, October 1, 2025

Editor's Corner

 

By Mary E. Adair

“Autumn serenades the breeze into dancing a cha cha cha;
the mountains echo in the background.
October sky never looked more charming
nor the sublime leaves of the trees so graceful.”
– Avijeet Das

As much as I tried to hold onto September, October gave it the tiniest nudge at midnight, and it fled. I do hope some of you are more welcoming than I found myself. Truly can't recall being so reluctant in the past to greet a new month. Shall look for the good and/or blessed in the days to come.


It's already a fact that we have some lovely submitted compositions, so let's begin there. Interesting about the many titles with the letter "L" so we'll start with  Bruce Clifford's poems are "Love Adore (the starlight in your eyes)," Beautiful Girl," and "Life Lives." Yours Truly helped with "Love The Snow." Walt Perryman shows "Dear Lord, I Have Amends," "Trail of Life," and "A Brand New Day." John I Blair's is "In Love With The Earth." Bud Lemire's poems are "My Beauchamp Family," "Love Isn't Imagining," "Exquisite Corpse," (actually a game) and the timely "Halloween."


The interesting article is authored by one of our former columnists Ara Parisien. The title "During Transformation" is derived from the platform of hers described as her I AM Transformation series. It sounds very reassuring.


Judith Kroll's "On Trek" is an encore that ties into the Halloween side of this month. Both Marilyn Carnell in "Sifoddling Along" and Melinda Cohenour in "Armchair Genealogy" chose to honor dearly loved former family members in their columns.


Mattie Lennon's "Irish Eyes" updates us on the recent Listowel Storytelling Festival and the participants. Thomas F. O'Neill's "Introspective" describes the helpful lessons he delivered while teaching in China. His students were quite receptive and he misses the associations formed there. He includes some favorite photos from that period.


Pauline Evanosky's column "Woo Woo" describes discovering if you're ready to develop your psychic capabilities, if you feel you have any. "Cooking with Rod's Family" features Melinda Cohenour's own recipe, Best Potato Soup from Scratch. She shares all the details along with tips to streamline the preparation.


We are thanking our dear friend Mike Craner who keeps us in working order as our Webmaster who is also co-founder. He and his wife Susie are both very supportive, and are active, caring people.


See you in November!


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


Armchair Genealogy

 

By Melinda Cohenour

September. So nostalgic for so many reasons but for me it shall always be my beloved Rod's birth month. September 10, 1945.


My daughter recently located a photo she took of us as we were leaving her home on one of our many business trips.


I Love this old pic of our Personal Telecommunications Team: my beloved partners Rod and Tito (who became nicknamed by our construction teams from coast to coast as "Cujo" for her vigorous mouthy "greetings" to those who approached my window and caught her unawares.) Those were GOOD times, up before dawn, destination could be a few hours or a couple day's travel.


As Project Manager Rod directed the activities of all the specialties required to complete the work assigned by our various client corporations: AT&T, Cricket, T-Mobile, Verizon, all the biggies. We worked new builds from clearing the plot, gravel pour, fencing, erecting the cell tower, mounting antenna array, positioning and fully equipping the telecom shelter that housed all the computerized brains that controlled the antennae and tracked and documented the traffic for billing, etc. These sites necessitated overnight stays. Always a chore finding a pet accepting motel nearby.


We also managed colocations where our client corporation had an agreement to mount their antennae on another company's cell tower. These were usually much simpler. But watching the guys (a very few gals) who climbed the big towers and their ground crew maneuver the antennae arrays into position was exciting. Most deaths and serious injuries involved in telecommunications arise from falls. We had more than one good friend injured and, sadly, a couple fatalities. Fortunately none occurred while we were on site. I always held my breath when Rod climbed, rooftops, towers, control room sky platforms.


We had a lot of Generac power installs where alternate power was needed to ensure the cell site continued to function when weather or malfunction of the primary battery array required a backup source. Interesting job overseeing the prep work (trenching per plotted diagrams of the cell site, line installation, heavy equipment lifting and positioning of the big Generac generator, and final testing before restoration of the dirt and gravel over the lines etc.) Some sites were really remote: mountaintops, or on a rancher's acreage. Many times our work might be delayed as we waited out a herd of cattle Hell-bent on grazing the approach to our target cell site.


My job was documentation. Tracking dates and times, cell site drawings Before and After, becoming familiar with the antennae types and specific directional locations, etc. Expenses had to be billed so I had to maintain careful records. Some of our trips took several days and, occasionally, involved multiple job locations with different vendors and clients. I most enjoyed creating the cell site drawings. I used specialty computer applications. Had to actually use a grid to show exact distances for trenches, tower footings and directional attenuation for each of the three faces, antenna mounts (these required elevations vs ground plots). I learned a lot and loved the work.


Our work took us coast to coast: California, Nevada, Utah, Idaho, Colorado, New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Kansas, Alabama, Missouri ... Made good friends, found some really good Mom n Pop cafes and restaurants. Fond memories.


My time with both my beloved Rod and our precious baby girl Tito will always evoke bittersweet memories but I shall always be thankful God granted me the man, the time and those priceless memories.



Rod-Tito-Melinda


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This issue appears in the ezine at www.pencilstubs.com and also in the blog www.pencilstubs.net with the capability of adding comments at the latter.


Irish Eyes

 

By Mattie Lennon

Listowel, Marrakech and Further Afield


It has been said that a storyteller can’t afford the luxury of an ordinary life. If that is the case there were many extraordinary lives in Listowel, Irelands’ Culture capital, for the 7th Annual Listowel International Storytelling Festival- September 18th to September 21st.


After a week of sharing stories and weaving magic in Ireland, Master storyteller Omar Belaarej returned home to his residency in the World Storytelling Cafe Marrakech. As Omar said goodbye at the bus-stop it was obvious that a bridge had been built between the World Storytelling Café in Marrakesh and the storytelling hearts of Ireland. A World Storytelling Festival with eighty storytellers from all continents taking part in Marrakesh earlier this year. And I’m sure Omar Belaarej would agree that Sonny Egan and Frances Kennedy could hold their own with any of them.


As the 7th Annual Listowel International Storytelling Festival finished for another year, Cara Trant, Executive Director of Kerry Writers’ Museum, and Festival Director of Listowel International Storytelling Festival, thanked everyone associated with this, now legendary, festival. Ms. Trant said a big thank you, “To our volunteers, sponsors, partners, and the dedicated team in Kerry Writers’ Museum — your support makes this festival possible. Listowel has long been a home of the story, and it’s a privilege to see that tradition grow stronger each year. Here’s to the stories we’ve shared, and those still to come. I would like to extend my heartfelt thanks to everyone who made this year so special. To our incredible storytellers, musicians, poets, and artists — thank you for sharing your voices and traditions with us. To our audiences — local and international — your warmth and enthusiasm keep the spirit of storytelling alive in Listowel. We were especially honoured by the presence of Dr. Lahcen Mahraoui, Moroccan Ambassador to Ireland, Morocco in Ireland, and his wife Leyla, whose support underlined the growing cultural bonds between our countries. Listowel has long been a home of the story, and it’s a privilege to see that tradition grow stronger each year."


This year's line-up included many incredible storytellers, musicians, poets, and artists. From local legends like Sonny Egan, Frances Kennedy, and Seosamh Ó Maolalaí, to the former Storyteller in Residence and Festival Director Maria Gillen, and international guests Ines Alvarez, Storyteller (Spain), Omar Belaarej (Morocco), John Row (UK), and Godfrey Coppinger (USA) — their stories reminded everyone that tales travel across generations, cultures, and borders.


Part of the festival was held by the cosy fireside of Sheehans Storytelling Cottage in Finuge, which has been a “Rambling House” for generations, a few miles outside the town of Listowel. This year also saw artist Priscilla Donovan open her inaugural solo exhibition, while Aidan O’Leary and Sandra Behan launched their debut books, milestones that remind us how deeply creativity thrives in Kerry.

* * * * * *


Sonny Egan. There has never been anyone before quite like Sonny Egan. He is not just a champion storyteller, he is a musician, a singer, a podcaster, an actor and an expert on many subjects. He is generous with his talents and for years opened his door to everyone in his famous rambling house. On the opening night of the festival, a tribute was paid to Sonny, one of Kerry’s cultural icons. Featuring music, song and dance with Lixnaw Comhaltas, of which Sonny is a member, with storytellers Frances Kennedy, Daisy Kearney, Conor Cox, and other special guests.

* * * * * *


Frances Kennedy. Frances Kennedy is one of North Kerry's most popular traditional storytellers, and entertainers. Originally from Freemount, Co. Cork, Frances now calls Listowel, Co. Kerry her home.

* * * * * *


Brendan Kennelly. On Tuesday, 30th September 2025, at midnight, a Midnight Court was held at Carrigafoyle Castle in partnership with the OPW - Office of Public Works and the Brendan Kennelly Literary Trust.


There was a rare screening of a short film featuring Brendan Kennelly (1936–2021) reading his poetry within the walls of the castle – a unique opportunity to experience the voice and words of one of Ireland’s most celebrated poets in an unforgettable setting.


This screening formed part of the Rivers of Words archive project, which has preserved over 100 original recordings of North Kerry writers. Thanks to Jimmy Deenihan, Joe Murphy, and The Heritage Council, these tapes have now been digitised by Kerry Writers’ Museum, ensuring that an important part of our literary heritage is safeguarded for future generations.


I’ll check if it is available on disc and let you know next month.


See you in November.


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


Cooking with Rod's Family

 

By Melinda Cohenour



It's finally Fall. Leaves are beginning to change, donning their colorful lacy adornment for the trees that host them. Gold, Orange, Red, Brown, bright Yellow ... An awesome display upon which we can feast our eyes.


Fall means a change in the foods we yearn to eat as well. Hearty casseroles. Squash, pumpkin "everything", stews, tasty soups and lots of creative ways to prepare and serve hot breads.


My MomMay made wonderful soups. A curative, delicious chicken noodle soup. Soups made colorful and earthy using root vegetables (carrots, onions, potatoes, beets, turnips, rutabagas ...). But I think my favorite of her homemade soups was from scratch Potato Soup. She used a secret ingredient (cucumbers!) to make her potato soup piquant and fresh.


This month I offer my own potato soup. This one doesn't include celery moons and cucumbers but is filling and tasty. Hope you try it and enjoy it


Bon appetit~!

Cooking With Rod's Family:
Best Potato Soup from Scratch


Servings: 8


Ingredients:

    * 8 to 10 medium large to large (Baking potatoes), peeled, rinsed and cubed to about 1 inch cubes
    * 1 qt. (32 oz) Chicken broth
    * Water sufficient to cover all the potatoes in the pot plus a couple inches
    * 1 medium yellow onion, peeled and diced
    * Bag of California Blend frozen vegetables (add at very end, after mashing some of your cooked potatoes and just a few minutes before you're ready to serve)
    * 1/2 to one stick sweet creamery butter, stir in and allow to melt before adding anything else (some like more butter but a little is essential to make your soup taste right.)
    * 1 to 2 cups milk just before serving
    * 2 teaspoons ground black pepper
    * 2 Tablespoons parsley flakes to stir into soup
    * 1 Tablespoon parsley flakes as garnish


Additional garnishes (completely optional)

    * Crisp bacon bits (do the bacon yourself, don't use bottled bits)
    * Grated cheddar cheese
    * Sour cream, let your guests choose to use this or not
    * One bunch green onions, diced tops and bulbs. (Remove any dried or discolored leaves and rinse with cold water before chopping)
    * Green, red, orange or yellow sweet Bell Pepper diced. One cup should be plenty for all 8 servings


Instructions:

    1. Rinse and peel potatoes. Cut into about one inch cubes trying to make all pieces the same.
    2. Rinse and peel onion. Cut into smaller pieces.
    3. Add potatoes and onion to a large soup pot that has a lid.
    4. Pour chicken broth over potatoes and onion. Then add enough water to completely cover all ingredients plus a couple inches above. You want your potatoes and onion to boil until tender. (A fork stuck in the potatoes pierces easily.) Cover the pot until it comes to a boil. Lower heat to Medium to continue simmering until potatoes are tender.
    5. Remove pot from heat. Using a potato masher, mash about half the potatoes, leaving the rest as cubes. Make sure there is enough liquid for this to be a SOUP not mashed potatoes. If necessary add more hot water.
    6. Add butter and let it melt. Stir to blend.
    7. Add California Blend vegetables that you have rinsed to remove any frost and then drained all liquid.
    8. Add milk. Stir to incorporate and return to burner to let heat a bit.
    9. Add Black Pepper and parsley. Stir well. Taste. You can add a tiny bit more pepper or even a dash of garlic powder to suit your taste. Remember potato soup is supposed to have a delicate flavor.


Serve in individual bowls, and either garnish each with tiny bits of suggested toppings or if serving at the table arrange toppings and let your dinner guests add their own.
(NOTE: I strongly suggest YOU sprinkle each serving with the bacon bits or you may not have enough left for everyone to get an equal amount )


This soup is delightful accompanied with hot crusty bread, a simple salad and iced tea or lemonade.


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



Woo Woo

 

By Pauline Evanosky

Some Steps to Becoming Psychic

Nobody can tell whether I’m making this stuff up or if it is honest. It’s just me you’re looking at.


All I can do is be the psychic channel I turned out to be. In fact, being dishonest is one of the steps you take when you’re learning how to do it. It’s called pretend.


Now, who would ever equate dishonesty with pretending? When a kid pretends, they are not being dishonest. They are pretending they have an invisible friend who does the dishes. Likely, that was a man-child. Be careful when you get married, ladies, that your intended never had fantasies that their invisible friend did all the work, did all the shopping, did all the dishes, and all he liked to do as a kid was lie around and make a mess. Believe me, there are men like that out there. Just bear that in mind before you say, “I do.”


Anyway, back to the dishonest part. Or rather, the pretend part of learning how to be a psychic channel.


First, you must truly believe that it is possible. This, when it finally happens to you, will ensure that you know how to really, really believe something. Like everybody believes the sun will come up with the new day and the stars will come out with the night. There could be extenuating circumstances like rain or clouds, but basically, that’s the belief we have.


So, even though you don’t feel like you’ve got a single psychic bone in your body, you have to really convince yourself that you are psychic. I wouldn’t go around advertising it until you begin to feel it happening and even then, you might wait a year or so before you announce to your brother-in-law that you can read his mind. Cautionary note: Don’t ever tell anybody you can read their mind. I know this is what is depicted in literature, but just don’t do it. You might get hunches about a person’s intent, but unless you ask them plainly about it you won’t know for sure. Personally? I’ve talked with people and suddenly, out of the blue, I’m talking about a Martha. They are shocked and asked me how I knew about their friend Martha. I say I don’t know. And I don’t. What I believe? It’s the magic of being a channel and talking to the dead.


So, once you’ve done that, although the belief hasn’t yet been tested, you’re going to put your feelers out to “prove” this belief to yourself.


How do you do that, exactly? Listen to other psychics. Not every one of them is going to have the same advice. This does not make one more right than another. But this will be the truth for them.


The thing is, there are many different kinds of psychics. You can have those who get “feelings” about you. Sometimes that works for me. Like I might say to someone, “Do you like to write?” Or I meet somebody, and I get the willies. This happens with narcissists. Or maybe they are serial killers. I never stayed around long enough to find out. I just put a whole lot of distance between me and whoever they are. If I get a bad feeling? I’m out of there.


You can find a psychic who is into numbers. I would tend to say this might be an important person to hang around with, just because you might have better luck playing the lottery. That’s just a theory on my part because I’ve never really had the luck to run into anybody like that. Also, my Spirit Guides have told me they’ll give me lots of numbers to play. It’s just that none of them ever won. Unless, perhaps in another country I don’t know about. Being psychic does not get you a tick for an easier life. It does, though, mean you’ll have an adventurous time of it.


I’ve never really figured out what sort of psychic I am. Stuff shows up all the time that is “different”. Like I’ll be thinking about a friend I haven’t heard from in years, and the next day they call me. That happens occasionally to me. Or I will call my husband on the telephone, and he tells me he had just picked up his phone to call me. That happens a lot to us.


I visit with dead folk and people in Spirit in my dreams.


Before I learned how to channel, my dreams were always me and whoever was chasing me. I’d get mired in the mud and not be able to move with a monster or a bad guy behind me closing in quickly. Once I learned how to channel, my dreams became me and lots of people. As I’ve gotten older and more people around me have died, they too show up in my dreams. It’s just another way of saying hello. If you are lucid when you dream, that’s super fun because then you can have a real visit with your loved ones.


An interesting thing happened involving normal everyday things when I began channeling. I trust my Spirit guide, Seth, and others to help out at the grocery store. I’ll reach for a piece of produce and hear, “No, not that one. Choose this one.” And, for goodness’ sake, doesn’t my hand reach for the other onion. Spirit is not going to do that one without permission. All you have to do is ask. I don’t go to the grocery store much these days. Ever since Covid, I learned that I liked being housebound.


I’m a writer. I sit in a chair and write. My husband does the shopping, or we order from Amazon. By the way, I’ve even ordered ice cream from Amazon, and it comes frozen. But, back in the day, I’d have gotten all my shopping done, and I’d pause at the end of an aisle and ask Seth, “Is there anything else?” That’s when I start getting directions: “Keep going. Keep going. Turn now!” If nothing comes to me in that particular aisle, I’ll stop and take a deep breath and refocus on what is for sale. Then, I’ll see it, whatever it is that I haven’t had in a long time.


A good exercise to help you begin to communicate with your inner self that came about from Julia Cameron’s "The Artist’s Way" is for writers or artists who are having a hard time getting going with their stuff. You assume, you pretend that first of all, you have an inner self. This is the part of you that is probably your soul. It’s the higher part of yourself. It’s the part of you that is not afraid. This is the self you want to be talking to. Draw a line down a piece of paper. Right in the middle. The left side of the paper belongs to you. The right side of the paper belongs to your higher self or your unconscious self.


When I first did this, I wrote on the left side, “I am a writer.” My higher self wrote, “You couldn’t write your way out of a paper bag.” An argument of sorts ensued. I’d never done such a thing in my life. It was amazing. I didn’t know how to channel in those days. But that’s what Julia Cameron taught me: how to get in touch with my higher self.


The idea was that your higher self was also your unconscious self, who held all these deep-seated misgivings that somehow prevented you from attaining your dreams. You realize that these fears and truths were not real. In some cases, they were downright silly. Breaking through as a writer was necessary for me to really believe that I was psychic.


Everybody is psychic. I really believe that now. Psychic is just another sense. Wanting to be psychic means that you are waking up that sense, honing it. Like if you were going to be a perfume expert or a wine connoisseur, you would need your sense of smell and taste, in the case of the wine, to be so refined that you could know there was a hint of citrus or of clover. Becoming more psychic is just waking up those senses, and in order to do that, you’ve just got to pretend.


Imagine, and it is so.


Now, would that work if you wanted to be a brain surgeon? Sure. Though we all know that you will need to go to school for a gazillion years to do it. The same thing happened to me when I wanted to be a psychic. It took me at least five years of concentrated study before anything “real” happened. I just took the steps as they came to me. I didn’t go to school.


I went to a lot of psychics to see what it was like. Later, I studied them to learn which techniques I liked and which I did not trust. For instance, if a psychic says to you, “For more money, I can lift the curse that is on you.” Right. Say thank you and leave. I don’t believe in curses, though some people do. I also don’t believe that to withhold help in lieu of more money is just shameful.


Oh, another important step you might consciously take is to make a promise to yourself and to the universe that you try your hardest to remain calm and in touch with your mental self. This can first be accomplished by you keeping a journal and recording the interesting things that are happening and how you are feeling. Sometimes when a person begins to investigate what makes them tick, they stumble upon areas of their life where having a psychotherapist is a good thing. It happens. It happened to me. In order to know others, you will first need to learn about yourself. Sometimes that can be upsetting. So, just make the promise and if and when the time comes, you’ll be open to some help for yourself.


The steps that you take might be different than the steps I took. One of the steps is to trust that whatever is going to help you achieve your goal will be there for you when you need it. So, going to an Ivy League school is not going to ensure success. There are tons of ways to get where you are going in life, no matter what you want to do. Have faith in yourself. Have faith in the universe.


Bon chance.
Pauline Evanosky


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


Introspective

 

By Thomas F. O'Neill

We make our living in life,
but what we give makes our life worth living.

--Thomas F O'Neill

To graduate, high school students in China must complete 100 hours of community service. For them, community service is more than just something that looks good on their resume. It can point them to new interests, new friends, and if they're lucky, maybe even a lifelong career. And yeah, okay, it’ll also look good on their resume. When I was a teacher, I used to tell my students that part of being human is feeling useful, and offering a helping hand to those in need is a way of feeling purposeful. Everyone, from time to time, needs that helping hand. Learning to extend ourselves a little further will help us build a reputation as a reliable and helpful person. For you, the students out there, “Volunteering” is a big word. How can you be sure you’re finding opportunities that are right for you? There are always easy entry points, such as the service clubs at your high school or civic organizations, but beyond that, the options can become overwhelming. When families volunteer their time to reach out to help others, they are also helping one another become more humane. After all, the word “humane” is a variant of the word “human.” Volunteering your time also includes demonstrating better aspects of the human character, such as kindness and compassion, and showing respect for other people’s views. When I was in high school, back during the Stone Age, I enjoyed visiting the elderly in nursing homes, assisted living facilities, and even in my own neighborhood. I enjoyed listening to their stories, but I also found that the elderly can teach students new skills. Another way to show the older folks that you care is to deliver meals to them. This would be a perfect way to show that you care for their well-being. Doing errands, cooking for them, or helping a neighbor who is sick are also ways to volunteer your time and help someone in need. Here are some other ways of volunteering your time and being helpful:

    You may never read some of your used books again so why not donate them to people who are in need of them. Other people can gain knowledge from reading your used books so donating them to others is a great act of kindness.
    Pick up litter and beautify your neighborhood or wildlife area. It’s safest to do this wearing gloves and using a pickup tool or a Reacher. Put each piece of trash in a box or garbage bag, then recycle or throw the garbage away when you’re done.
    Beautify your neighborhood by planting flowers. That is a great way to show others that you care about your neighborhood and where you live.
    Be kind and take an evening to watch a neighbor’s child. Your neighbor may need a night out from parenting, so step up and volunteer your time to meet the challenge. Working with people much younger than you are truly ways to make a difference in your community and to show others all that you have to offer.
    People throughout the world cannot afford to purchase the clothes you wear. So donating your used clothes will help other children in a far off land live a better life.
    Another way of being helpful is to learn to anticipate the needs of others by listening closely to what people say, and how to share your time in the most helpful ways possible. Being around is one of the underrated requirements of being a helpful person. If you want to be helpful for your friends and family, you've got to be available to be helpful and give them the gift of your time. Try and make time for the important people in your life and be willing to do things you might not normally want to do, to be as helpful as possible.
    If you schedule a time to visit those in need in your free time by putting off a computer game with friends, remind yourself, it’s the right thing to do. Especially, when it comes to helping out others, even when you'd rather not. A simple act of visiting your elderly neighbor can be the kindest gesture in your neighbor’s life. No one wants to be lonely in the world so you can surely make a difference by becoming a friend to an elderly person.
    Want to know if you can be of some assistance? Ask. The best way to figure out quickly and efficiently if and what you can do to help out is to just ask, flat-out.
    For students out there, it's essential to know that everyone, at some point, needs a helping hand, and homework should be no exception. If you are a wiz in one subject, why not help out a young student who can’t seem to grasp the subject matter? Put away your phone and give the person you're helping your full attention. Really listen to the person and evaluate the situation as objectively as possible. Digging deeper, asking questions, and staying engaged in the person's issues will make you the most helpful presence possible. Don't look for easy help, look for real help.


I liked telling my students that our self-worth will not be measured by what we amassed in a lifetime but by what we give in the present moment. Our greatest achievements will not consist of fame or glory but in the unremembered, unrecognized, and undetected acts of loving-kindness that were bestowed on others.


We make our living in life, but what we give makes our life worth living.


I have photos from Wuxi, China, where I taught High School. It was truly a fulfilling period in my life, and hopefully, I built up some good karma.


Always with love,

Thomas F O'Neill

    Email: introspective7@hotmail.com
    WeChat - Thomas_F_ONeill
    Phone: (410) 925-9334
    Skype: thomas_f_oneill
    Twitter: https://twitter.com/Thomas_F_ONeill
    Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/thomas-f-o-neill-6226b018/
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Click on the author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.
This issue appears in the ezine at www.pencilstubs.com and also in the blog www.pencilstubs.net with the capability of adding comments at the latter.


Sifoddling Along

 

By Marilyn Carnell

Early in 1940, nine-year-old Billy Max Carnell learned that I was on the way. A waggish family friend proposed a very attractive offer - he could trade this coming interloper for a pony. Billy Max readily agreed to the deal. However, when I arrived, he changed his mind and decided I was worth keeping. From that moment on, he was my guardian and friend.


As a teen, it was his habit to lie on the floor and read the newspaper. As a toddler and young child, I learned to climb on his back and look over his shoulder while he read the comics to me. He was endlessly patient with my intrusion into his world.


In August, 1946 the last major epidemic of polio raged throughout the country. I was very sick and when I was to begin school in September, the Dr. said I could not walk the three blocks to the school. Billy Max’s back was once again a solution. He carried me to and from school, so I didn’t miss the excitement of the first day of a new adventure for me.


The years passed. He graduated from high school, went away to college to become a forrester, married, and after graduating enlisted in the Marine Corps as a young officer. After his service, he worked as a forrester for the Missouri Conservation Commission. While working in Camdenton, Missouri he became friends with a couple of young medical doctors and decided to use his G.I. Bill as an opportunity to become a medical doctor himself. It was an unfulfilled dream, because earlier there was not enough money to make that possible.


Thus, when I went to college, he was at the University of Missouri in medical school and once again my protector. I once had a date with a young man that Bill knew was likely to take advantage of my innocence. Although I thought we had a good evening, Tom did not call me for a second date. I few weeks later I encountered him on campus and asked why I hadn’t heard from him. He told me that Bill promised to beat the tar out of him if he touched his little sister.


Bill finished medical school and his internship and became a general practitioner in Camdenton by joining the two doctors who had encouraged him to go back to school.


More years went by and Bill was always a pillar for me to lean on. After a miserable divorce and a sense of being lost, Bill said to me: “Come on home, honey. They can’t whip us all.” That reassurance was enough for me to pick up the pieces of my life and find purpose.


Bill was a storyteller and relished regaling others about the funny or dramatic experiences he had in his practice. As an example:


His office in Buffalo, Missouri was constructed in two sections a reception/waiting room and the treatment section where patients were seen. He had a partner who apparently had disappointed a patient in some way, so he and his father stormed in through the back door, armed with automatic rifles and took everyone hostage. The partner slipped away, abandoning the situation. As Bill told it, he knew he had a pistol in a drawer in the counter he was standing behind. The problem was it was to his left and if he shot with his left hand he would have to shoot to kill. Rejecting that option, he resorted to his old Marine training and in his most commanding voice began shouting at the men to put down their weapons. “Now!” They followed his orders and the day was saved. Needless to say, the partnership was over.


Bill loved to hunt and fish. He was the happiest in the rough woodlands and streams of the Ozarks. In early October, 2008 Bill and a friend floated down Big Sugar Creek to Pineville. I followed him to town early that morning so he could park his car and gave him a ride back to the put in place for their boat to enjoy a day outdoors. As I left, I hollered over my shoulder “I love you.” That declaration has been an enormous comfort to me ever since as three days later, Bill died of heart attack. My guardian was gone.


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On Trek



 

By Judith Kroll

How do we get the past to stop haunting us?

We might feel we could have been a better parent. We might think of specifics where we were less than honorable to our children. Maybe we suffered a divorce, and we think, maybe if I did this or that? We continually visit the not so pretty trenches of our childhood at times as well.

We all let ourselves be haunted by the past at one time or another. If we dwell on could of, would of, and should of’s, we can make ourselves very unhappy. We all have pasts, and we all wish we could go back and change some events or ways we have acted or how we handled a situation in the past. What is interesting is that we constantly gauge our past with our newly evolved selves. We all grow emotionally, and we judge our past selves, by our new thinking.

Let me illustrate. When raising our children we tend to look back and say, “If I wouldn’t have done this, or if I wouldn’t have said that, my child wouldn’t have felt so bad at that time.” We must consider who we were back then, and who we are now. Chances are we did the best we could at the time, with what we knew, and what our circumstances were. Everyone is different now, that is one reason we treat our grandchildren differently than we did our own children. Our perspectives are always changing. If we dwell in the past with our newer versions of ourselves, then we are just making ourselves miserable. We have to let it go.

Talking with someone helps. Just letting it loose from our hearts by sharing the details as we remember it to a dear soul who is committed to listening can be helpful. One of the simplest ways to let go of anything that is a burden to us, anything that is stopping us from moving forward in life, is to let it go. How do we do that?

Remember the old movies where the sound of the bugle meant the Calvary was on the way to rescue those in need?

We have our own Calvary. The vast unseen helpers in the universe like our Angels, Guides, and our family and friends who have passed before us. They help us. Just ask them to take away the pain we keep dredging up from our past. Thank them for taking it away. I have done this, others I know have as well, and it truly works.

Marianne Williamson shared her quote that fits in this situation. “We do not heal the past by dwelling there; we heal the past by living fully in the present.” So when a hurtful thought arises turn your attention to the present. Think about the flowers in your yard, the smile of your loved one, the love of the universe, and your life will joyful.

Remember that if we dwell in the past, we miss the present, and then that will once again make for a miserable past.
JudyKroll, Encore


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During Transformation

 

By Ara Parisien

When we witness someone in the final stages of life, it can look unbearably painful. Labored breathing, physical tension, or the fading of the mind often leave loved ones believing the soul is suffering. Yet what appears as struggle on the outside is rarely the soul’s true experience.


The human body is designed with reflexes and automatic responses. In dying, those reflexes continue even when the soul has already begun to release its focus. The nervous system may fire signals of pain, and the body may strain for breath, but the soul is no longer fully anchored in those sensations. It is loosening its tether, hovering between here and there.


From the soul’s perspective, transition is far gentler. While part of its awareness still touches the body, much of it is already expanding into a freer state of being. What we interpret as suffering is more often the personality’s clinging, or simply the body’s mechanical process. The deeper self has stepped back, witnessing more than participating.


In conditions like Alzheimer’s or dementia, the soul has often untethered even earlier. While the personality appears diminished, the soul is already living free in another stream of reality, touching the body only lightly.


At the final moment, the release is instantaneous. Many describe it as a “burst” of expansion—relief, freedom, and peace flooding in all at once. Whatever the body seemed to endure vanishes like a dream the soul no longer claims.


So while death may look painful to us who remain, the soul’s experience is far different. It is not imprisoned in the body’s struggle. It is quietly, gracefully, slipping into its next horizon of life.


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Halloween

 

By Bud Lemire

As Witches fly by the windows, at the Harbor Tower
The Ghosts come to life earlier than that midnight hour
Dave is looking over papers, as a Ghoul passes by
Rob is wearing his favorite Halloween Tie
Mark, Tom, & Shawn have maintenance under control
I glance and see a Ghost enter an invisible hole
Trick Or Treaters are out on the streets
Hoping for some really good treats

I notice a lot of pale people walking around here near the light
They sure do look strange, it's giving me quite a fright
I'm thinking they could be The Walking Dead
All I want to do right now, is crawl into bed
No one is in the lobby, that's pretty odd
Dracula passes me in the hall, I give a nod
Someone is dressed like the Flash, but he's moving way too slow
I turn to see where he went, where the heck did he go

A Wizard appears, right in front of me
It looks like Gandolf, as far as I could see
He points his wand at me, and we disappear
I end up at the Shire, so far away from here
He turns to me and says “There's Trouble in the Shire”
“A Crazy dark Wraith has set the whole place on fire”
Did he think I was a Wizard, that I could help him here?
Could it be he found me, because he was in despair?
I look down at my clothes, I was dressed in a Wizard's cloak
What was this, some kind of a Halloween joke?
I notice the fire, oh what can I do?
I see that my cloak is a Rainbow hue

I remember all the water down at the lake
I envision it to be flowing through a large snake
Then I envision the snake spitting it all over the flames
Hobbits are running everywhere, I forgot all their names
Suddenly I'm at the Tower, and up in my room
The fire must be out, at least I would assume
I must be the Rainbow Wizard on this Halloween
I traveled to the Shire, and boy, what a scene
I am home now, time to relax and unwind
It'll take awhile, I have so much on my mind

©Oct 29, 2016 Bud Lemire
Encore


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In Love With The Earth

 

By John I. Blair

The Earth and I are lovers.
Oh we try to keep it secret . . .
I dissemble, act the beast,
Abuse her with my carelessness.

On her part she can pretend
To be indifferent and cold,
Keeping me so uncomfortable
I doubt she knows I’m here.

But I couldn’t live without her;
And absent me, who would there be
To worship her,
To write her poems?

©2004 John I. Blair
Encore


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Love The Snow

 

By Mary E. Adair

I love the snow
Seen on Christmas cards;
Or drifting in the poems
By the famous bards;

On Travel poster ads
For a distant ski lodge;
Or in movies of kids
Building Snowmen hodge podge.

But not, do I want
It, covering my lawn.
Or falling from the sky
While I doze and yawn.

Don't like the delays
When snow blocks one's way,
And traffic's at a No-Go,
And the sky is dark gray.

So if you want snow
For your Holiday time,
Go to where it's welcome
Where sleigh bells can chime.

Enjoy your snow
Far away from me -
All I need for Christmas
Is my own little tree.

Call me a grouch,
If you feel you must.
But don't pray for snow
To cover West Texas dust.

©9/24/2025 Mary E. Adair


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Trail of Life

 

By Walt Perryman

I am rambling about the trail of life.

As I navigate down the trail of my life,
I have had my share of heartaches and strife.

God gave me a brain for me to use,
Sometimes, I use it, but I often refuse.

He gave me one mouth and ears he gave two,
My mouth has more mileage than my ears do.

On my trail I need to listen more than I talk,
So, my trail would be smoother when I walk.

While I am talking, I cannot hear what is said.
Because while talking, nothing enters my head.

God offers me what I need to travel my trail,
But, when I do not use what he offers, I fail.

I have no idea if your trail is anything like mine,
If so, try to listen and talk less, you will be fine.

©Sep 21, 2025 Walt Perryman


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Love Isn't Imagining

 

By Bud Lemire

Love Isn't Imagining


Love isn't imagining who they could be, it's about knowing who they really are

So many times we imagine the perfect mate
We get all excited, and it's so hard to wait
As our lives move along and intertwine
We find out their greatness, isn't so fine

Other times, they're great in ways we never could have imagined them to be
Once we get to know the real them, It's the real love that we'll see
Love is a journey, between two hearts that beat
When the soul know it's true, and there's no defeat

Souls are of the spirit, the highest level you will ever know
It lives within each of us, and goes wherever we go
Your sexual organs are aroused, but believe me when I say
The soul knows when it's real, and it will never go away

Listen to your heart and soul, listen to all you find
Find out who they really are, instead of imagining with your mind

©Sep 04, 2025 Bud Lemire

                       Author Note:

This year I learned a very big lesson. I forgot to listen
with my heart and soul and let my mind imagine what love
could be.
I won't go into detail, but let's just say that someone
that loves me very much from the Spirit world was there
to see me learn a very hard lesson. Why? Because she loves me
so very much, on the highest soul level.
I thank her every day for her love, as she watches over me.


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Life Lives

By Bruce Clifford

Feeling so left out within the realty of these dreams.
Taken by surprise in this world of make believe.
Do you even know what I need.

Falling from the clouds deep from underground.
Thinking of other galaxies without ever making a sound.
How did we get here while this earth is still so round.

Life lives
Life dies
Giant creatures
Little flies

Life grows
Life displaced
We live and die
Without a trace
I’ve never seen such a beautiful face.

Staying awake all night immersed in these extremes.
A chemical reaction in a world of fake plastic trees.
What happened to all those species from millions of years ago.
All these unanswered questions we might never come to know.

Feeling so betrayed by the powers of the unknown.
The universes messages are hidden and desperately shown.
What happened to the promise of peace on every land.
The greed and senseless killings we could never understand.

Life lives
Life dies
Giant creatures
Little flies

Life grows
Life displaced
We live and die
Without a trace
I’ve never seen such a beautiful face.
We came to be a part of this human race.

Feeling so left out within the realty of our scope.
Taken by surprise in this Milky Way of hope.
A cat killed a little bug and thought it was a joke.
The frogs jumped into the water to see if they could croak.

We might never know what we were never shown.

©9/2/2025 Bruce Clifford


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My Beauchamp Family

 


By Bud Lemire

I've been gathering Canadian relatives, in my Beauchamp line
If you have ancestors the same, it could be yours and mine
Felix Beauchamp and Josephte Lalonde, are 7th Generation to me
I am in the twelfth generation, that come down in my ancestry

We have Francois Xavier, Alexandre, Joseph, Adeline, Melitime, Moyse and Theotiste
These are the siblings that stayed in Canada, there were none that I had missed
Gatien, Josephte, Treffle, Regis, and Arsene, all settled in Michigan's U.P.
The Second oldest is Gatien, and he's a Great Great Grandfather to me

It's a large family, and keeps getting bigger with each year
The Index that I have of the names in it, are both far away and near
They come from the area, called Soulanges & Vaudreuil in Quebec
St. Polycarpe, St. Telesphore, Ste. Justine de Newton, and other places I have to check

Several of the descendants, moved down to Glengarry Ontario to live there
Then there are many of them that move around, and are living elsewhere
Just like any family, they find work in other places
It's up to me, to find where they are with all the traces

Sometimes it can be easy, other times quite hard to do
Obituaries help me, other times I haven't a clue
I keep on searching, never knowing when the list will be complete
To another Family Tree branch I go, new cousins I shall meet

©Sep 07, 2025 Bud Lemire

                       Author Note:

It's been fun and kept me busy adding new family members
to these descendants. If you have Beauchamp in your ancestry
and even know you descend from Felix and
Josephte, please get in touch with me. By the way, I have
a picture of my Great Great Grandfather Gatien Beauchamp, who
was married to Aurelie Campeau.


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A Brand-New Day

 

By Walt Perryman

This brand-new day can be a brand-new start,
First step is to pray and do so from the heart.

You know this day will never come again,
What better time for a better life to begin.

No one is perfect; you know we all sin,
But you can sin less, than you have been.

You might not change the world, this is true,
But with God’s help, you can change you.

If you want a change, God will show you how,
And you can’t start any sooner than right now.

If your life is all full of heart breaks and sorrow,
And if you like it, just put God off till tomorrow.

©Sep 23, 2025 Walt Perryman


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Beautiful Girl

By Bruce Clifford

I always feel like I have so much to say to you.
This is because I am so madly in love with you.
I’ve never felt like this for a thousand years or more.
All these dreams, it’s been you all along.

I’ve always believed in cosmic destiny.
Somehow, we found each other from far across the sea.
I’ve never felt like this for this lifetime or even more.
That’s why I sing about you in this song.

To the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.
You’ve got a heart of gold and eyes that forever gleam.
To the most beautiful girl that I know.
There is no one else who captivates me so.

I used to dream about someone I could never touch.
Now I know that I love you so very much.
I’ve never felt like this throughout time and history.
I’m so unsure how this could be.

To the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.
You’ve got a heart of gold and eyes that forever gleam.
To the most beautiful girl that I know.
There is no one else who captivates me so.

I’ve been living out this life so very wrong.
Before nothing mattered until you came along.
I’m so lost and don’t know where to go from here.
I only know I love you dear.

Your personality and smile light up my days.
I only wish I could hold you in every way.
Sometimes I’m lost without knowing what I should say.
You are so beautiful, please never go away.

To the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.
You’ve got a heart of gold and eyes that forever gleam.
To the most beautiful girl that I know.
There is no one else who captivates me so.

©9/12/2025 Bruce Clifford


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Exquisite Corpse

 

By Bud Lemire

There's a drawing game, that we use to play
At the kitchen table, and I have to say
One person would draw the head, and hide it so
The next person drew the body, so it wouldn't show

The next person, draws the legs and the feet
The end result, is hard to be beat
Mom and us kids , would draw with this game
Each time we did it, it was never the same

We never imagined, how it would turn out
The surprise ending, was what it was all about
Fold the paper in three, the long way from bottom to top
Fold it half for four games, and then you can stop

The first person draws the head, the second draws the body part
The third person draws the legs and feet, and it becomes a work of art
Now that you have it, give it a try
Be creative, and then you apply
I know Mom and us kids, had a whole lot of fun
We laughed at the results. When we were all done

©Feb 07, 2024 Bud Lemire

                        Author Note:

Mom and us kids did have a lot of fun playing this.
I never knew what it was called until just before
I wrote this poem. I decided to relive those times,
and share them with you. I'd like to try the game
again.


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Dear Lord, I Have Amends

 

By Walt Perryman

Lord, I have many amends I want to make to you,
For the sins, you and I know that I’ve done or will do.

When I am desperate, I seem to need you even more,
But after I recover, I go back to living like I was before!

Lord, I know you are with me in the good times too,
But I often take the credit when I know it was you.

I know that I can grow closer to you every day,
By reading the Bible, living better and pray!

So, Lord please forgive me for the bad things I do,
And help me to give you the credit where it’s due.

Amen


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Love Adore (The Starlight in your Eyes)

By Bruce Clifford

You came to me when in this life it was least expected.
It felt like we knew each other forever in time.
This universe is vast and full of cosmic wonder.
So many nights how I wished you were mine.

I love adore you.
I can see the starlight in your eyes.
I love adore you.
When my heart skips a beat, it comes as no surprise.
I can see the starlight in your eyes.

Late at night in the middle of a thousand thoughts.
You open my eyes as I hear you whisper from across the sea.
Like a passage in time as if our minds are always in sync.
I can feel your smile in the magic of every vivid dream.

I love adore you.
I can see the starlight in your eyes.
I love adore you.
When my heart skips a beat, it comes as no surprise.
I can see the starlight in your eyes.

You came to me when my heart was least receptive.
It felt so pure, as if it was the way things were meant to be.
So many years I wondered if you were truly out there.
Now I know it was your radiant smile I would always see.

I love adore you.
I can see starlight in your eyes.
I love adore you.
When my heart skips a beat, it comes as no surprise.
I can see the starlight in your eyes.

I can see the starlight in your eyes.
I can see the starlight in your eyes.
#LoveAdore

©9/9/2025 Bruce Clifford


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