Editor's Corner

 

By Mary E. Adair

“Although no one can go back
and make a brand new start,
anyone can start from now
and make a brand new ending.”
— Carl Bard

Welcome to January 2026!

We nearly made it through December without freezing temperatures until the final week in our sandy, desert area of Texas. Even so, beyond a small amount of rain, driving conditions remained comparatively safe. That's good because driving through or past our town on I-20 is what most people do which congests our highways which can be dangerous. Our town has changed a lot over the last decade but retains a small town atmosphere of friendliness and of caring. Altogether, a lovely place to call home.

Our authors, however, since this is an International eZine, dwell in many different parts of our world. This gives many different backgrounds, different occupations, and cultural aspects, among them, meaning we have an interesting set of viewpoints in every issue.

Bruce Clifford's poem for this new year is "The Promise." Yours truly offers one of her poems in encore, "Fall Garden." It seemed most appropriate as our year was ending paving the way for new beginnings.

Bud Lemire's poems for January are "In The New Year," "Precious Is The Time," "The Best in A Happy New Year," and "A Victory in Life's Game." Walt Perryman's poems for January are reminisces of Christmas time: "What I Want for Christmas," "Our Day After Christmas," "What Christmas Was, Is, or Isn't?" and "Rambling Thought about New Years."

John I. Blair remains our most prolific author, having been a columnist for us as well as having submitted the greatest number of poems through the years. He is currently recuperating from heart surgery done in December but previously agreed that this editor could encore various poems. So, here are four of his poems: "This Is January," "Looking For Spring," "Listening, and "Deja Vu." We appreciate his vast talent for writing.

The article is by one of our former columnists, Ara Parisien. On request she prepared it as looking ahead to the new opportunities we all face in new times. Excellent advice, "Make 2026 the Year You Finally Decide" is not to be skipped.

Judith Kroll's column "On Trek" is perhaps a surprise, if you haven't the pleasure of knowing her. She accompanied it with a picture that was quite similar to her experience. Unfortunately, our inclusion of new pics has a glitch so only those previously in our eZine can be chosen at this time. Marilyn Carnell's column "Sifoddling Along" is a lovely message about making messages. Thomas F. O'Neill recalled some rewarding experiences he had while teaching in China. There are some pics included in his column "Introspective" from that period.

"Woo Woo" by Pauline Evanosky focuses on Resolutions. She is such a busy writer, and her own resolve includes being certain she has time to devote to that preference in activities. Melinda Cohenour, wearing two hats labeled columnist handles her original column "Armchair Genealogy" citing family tales that can be included in one's online Astrology publications, and managing the various recipes and "cooks" in the column "Cooking with Rod's Family." She does the latter column in honor of her late husband who was our cooking columnist. The special recipe this month was our mother's: Lena May's German-Style Potato Pancakes.

Our Dublin, Ireland columnist Mattie Lennon shares a tale by a late friend and one of his own compositions recorded as a song by a friend, for his "Irish Eyes." Our webmaster and dear, longtime friend Mike Craner includes a brief but sincere thought in his "Mike's Place" column. We owe him the idea and concept of this eZine cofounded as Pencil Stubs Online when I had to close my real printed and mailed magazine in newspaper format, "Hobbie$, Etc." That magazine, started by the late AG Adair, went to seven countries, including 42 states in the USA. We wouldn't be here without his ingenuity and enthusiasm. Thank you, Mike.

See you in February which will be the first issue of the 29th Volumn of Pencil Stubs Online.

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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.

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Mike's Place

 

By Michael L. Craner

There is too much hate in the world now. It's largely due to misunderstanding, and failure to TRY to understand.

Not ALL Muslims want to kill everyone. Not ALL illegal immigrants traffic and sell drugs, rape and murder people.

Not every teen or veteran is a homicidal maniac.

People need to slow their roll, THINK for a moment. Put yourself in someone else's shoes.

Terrorism is defined as spreading terror to others. If you don't accept the fear, terror, and cowardice they spread, then we are already winning.

Don't hate a country, culture, or religion because someone affiliated with them did something terrible. Blame the person.

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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.

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Armchair Genealogy

Armchair Genealogy

By Melinda Cohenour

A Tribute to Daddy Earl, Earl Joseph King

This column is offered to introduce my step grandfather, Earl Joseph King, who enriched our lives. He was the grandfather I knew, as my grandmother had divorced and remarried. Her first husband moved to California, a long distance from our little town. I was fourteen years old before I met my father's father, Everett Carroll. He was a brilliant man and I quickly developed a close bond that lasts to this day. But Daddy Earl was there for me from the day of my birth and holds a dear spot in my heart.

Our grandfather Earl Joseph King suffered from what they called "miner's lungs" after working in the lead and zinc mines. He had 14 pounds of zinc "dust" deposits in his lungs which prevented him from being able to lay down. His last years of life were spent seated on the side of his bed and leaning forward to sleep on a pillow atop the ornate dresser next to his bed. Edema of course was a co-condition which Grandma King relieved by massaging his feet and calves and by bringing in foot tubs of warm water to aid blood circulation.

He never complained that I heard. He was a loving and humorous man who found myriad ways to entertain me in my preschool years. A large limb on the tree outside his window became my pony. Window up to catch the breeze, as I sat astride that limb upon my saddle, Daddy Earl would narrate tales of daring-do as we shared rollicking rides 'cross plains, o'er streams, up mountain passes seeking adventure.

On cold evenings, he embodied the flames that rose in his gas heater with a tribe of "wild Injuns" each flame with his own name and distinct personality. Oh! The adventures we shared!!

Daddy Earl told of first casting eyes upon my grandmother Nora Viola Alexander (Carroll, Fisher, King) at a train station in Kansas City. He was headed to his port of embarcation to Europe where he competed in horse races as a jockey. Grandmother had my infant father in her arms, caring lovingly for him. Daddy Earl told me "That Norie!! She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen! I found her when I returned and never let my heart roam!"

He worked as chief welder at the Ozark Mahoning Sal-Soda plant in his later years. I remember when Daddy Earl still walked, and worked around their home, and took me places. He made good money because he took me shopping "for Norie" when I was three years old. He paid cash for two new cars ... Both Hudson Hornets, one gold "To match your spun-gold hair Girlie" and one deep green "To match your pretty green eyes!"

I inherited those cars when I turned 13 and got my Beginner's License. I think the townfolk were greatly relieved when those "instruments of doom" as piloted by Grandma King passed from her use! She had a big heart and became the chauffeur for her gaggle of Golden Oldies ... Her elderly widowed lady friends. She'd gather them from their homes for church services, for Golden Age Club meetings, for shopping. That was all well and good EXCEPT for Grandma's eccentric driving habits.

She religiously utilized hand signals albeit her "self designed' signals - ones only the previously terrified townfolk had become marginally familiar with their meaning. For instance, to turn right she properly extended her left arm out the driver's window and pointed an extended finger up and over the car roof. However, her execution of that right-hand turn is where the trouble occurred. To quote her instructions to me when a fledgling driver: "One must signal their intent thusly (she would exhibit the aforementioned arm, hand and finger movements) then pull as far to the left of the road as possible to make plenty of room to turn to the Right!" This involved ALL the roadway, meaning on a two-way Street Grandma King would signal before veering wildly across the road to its far left border ... facing HEAD ON to oncoming traffic (brakes slamming by their drivers) before veering rapidly across all lanes of traffic to now TURN RIGHT.

And a Left Turn execution? Um-Hmmm. Left arm extended straight out to be followed immediately by Mama King veering to the far RIGHT of the roadway before quickly TURNING LEFT.

And the Stop hand signal? She properly stuck that left arm out the window with index finger pointed straight to the ground. Only issue here? Mama King only signaled once she had already slammed on her brake and was fully stopped. (Familiar drivers in our little burg learned when they spied that gold Hudson Hornet "Caution is the Better Part of Valor" ... Grant Mrs. King a WIDE BERTH!)

These sweet memories of my beloved family members are shared in the hope my descendants will read the stories and have a glimpse of the person whose name appears in their family tree.

It is my desire to encourage my readers to include their memories of family members to put "flesh on the bones" of those long gone ancestors. May the coming year bring a renewed interest in researching your ancestral history. The Internet now provides such an incredible tool for family members to build their own tree and populate it with their own ancestors. Get to know them by seeking documents and stories on-line. Get in touch with cousins interested in the same persons. Share photos and stories ... All from your armchairs at home!

See you next month!

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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.

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Irish Eyes

 

By Mattie Lennon A STORY BY SEAN MCCARTHY AND MY FEEBLE ATTEMPT AT SONGWRITING Thanks to Mary Cogan of Listowel Connect I have this seasonal story written by the Late Sean McCarthy in 1986. The Christmas Coat Oh fleeting time, oh, fleeting time You raced my youth away; You took from me the boyhood dreams That started each new day. My father, Ned McCarthy, found the blanket in the Market Place in Listowel two months before Christmas. The blanket was spanking a rich Kelly green hue with fancy white stitching round the edges. Ned, as honest a man as hard times would allow, did the right thing. He bundled this exotic looking comforter inside his overcoat and brought it home to our manse on the edge of Sands bog. The excitement was fierce to behold that night when all the McCarthy clan sat round the table. Pandy, flour dip and yolla meal pointers, washed down with buttermilk disappeared down hungry throats. All eyes were on the green blanket airing in front of the turf fire. Where would the blanket rest? The winter was creeping in fast and the cold winds were starting to whisper round Healy’s Wood; a time for the robin to shelter in the barn. I was excited about the blanket too but the cold nights never bothered me. By the time I had stepped over my four brothers to get to my own place against the wall, no puff of wind, no matter however fierce could find me. After much arguing and a few fist fights (for we were a very democratic family) it was my sister, Anna who came up with the right and proper solution. That lovely blanket, she said, was too fancy, too new and too beautiful to be wasted on any bed. Wasn’t she going to England, in a year’s time and the blanket would make her a lovely coat!. Brains to burn that girl has. Didn’t she prove it years later when she married an engineer and him a pillar of the church and a teetotaller? Well maybe a slight correction here. He used to be a pillar of the pub and a total abstainer from church but she changed all that. Brains to burn! The tailor Roche lived in a little house on the Greenville Road with his brother Paddy and a dog with no tail and only one eye. Rumours abounded around the locality about the tailor’s magic stitching fingers and his work for the English royal family. Every man, woman and child in our locality went in awe of the Tailor Roche. Hadn’t he made a coat for the Queen of England when he was domiciled in London, a smoking jacket for the Prince of Wales and several pairs of pyjamas for Princess Flavia The only sour note I ever heard against the tailor’s achievements came from The Whisper Hogan, an itinerant ploughman who came from the west of Kerry. “If he’s such a famous tailor,” said Whisper, “why is it that his arse is always peeping out through a hole in his trousers?" Hogan was an awful begrudger. We didn’t pay him any heed. Tailor Roche was the man chosen to make the coat from the green blanket. Even though it was a “God spare you the health” job, a lot of thought went into the final choice of a tailor. The first fitting took place of a Sunday afternoon on the mud floor of the McCarthy manse. The blanket was spread out evenly and Anna was ordered to lie very still on top of it. Even I, who had never seen a tailor at work, thought this a little strange. But my father soon put me to rights when he said, “Stop fidgeting, Seáinín, you are watching a genius at work.” Chalk, scissors, green thread and plenty of sweet tea with a little bit of bacon and cabbage when we had it. A tailor can’t work on an empty stomach. The conversion went apace through Christmas and into the New Year. Snip snip, stitch, stich, sweet tea and fat bacon, floury spuds. I couldn’t see much shape in the coat but there was one thing for sure – it no longer looked like a blanket. Spring raced into summer and summer rained its way into autumn. Hitler invaded Poland and the British army fled Dunkirk, the men of Sandes Bog and Greenville gathered together shoulder to shoulder to defend the Ballybunion coastline and to bring home the turf. Then six weeks before Christmas disaster struck the McCarthy clan and to hell with Hitler, the British Army, and Herman Goering. We got the news at convent mass on Sunday morning the Tailor Roche had broken his stitching hand when he fell over his dog, the one with the one eye and no tail. Fourteen months of stitching, cutting, tea drinking and bacon eating down the drain. Even a genius cannot work with one hand. Anna looked very nice in her thirty shilling coat from Carroll Heneghan’s in Listowel as we walked to the train. Coming home alone in the January twilight I tried hard to hold back the tears. She would be missed. The Tailor was sitting by the fire, a mug of sweet tea in his left hand and a large white sling holding his right-hand. I didn’t feel like talking so I made my way across the bed to my place by the wall. It was beginning to turn cold so I drew the shapeless green bundle up around my shoulders. It was awkward enough to get it settled with the two sleeves sticking out sideways and a long split up the middle. Still, it helped keep out the frost. Every bed needs a good green blanket and every boyhood needs a time to rest. The ghosts of night will vanish soon When winter fades away The lark will taste the buds of June Mid the scent of new mown hay. * * * * * * And now I’m going to impose on you the words of a song that I wrote about twenty years ago. It was put to music and recorded by singer/songwriter John Hoban. If anyone wants the audio just email me. There’s Brightness.............. By Mattie Lennon As a child I remember small farmers Being depressed at some times of the year, With climatic conditions uncertain Turning hopes of their harvest to fear. Whenever they cursed the bad weather As the elements failed to rescind My father, with wisdom, would tell them: "There's a brightness at the butt of the wind". When teenage ambitions got twisted: My identity crisis would loom. Rejection and fantasy mingled, Resulting in pictures of doom. Then.........the Power of Good to the rescue To counter each negative trend. My thoughts would somehow be diverted To that brightness at the butt of the wind. Chorus: When the weather of life it looks hopeless; And dark clouds with disaster seem twinned, Remember that God will send sunshine. There's brightness at the butt of the wind. When the storms of anguish are beating And I'm lashed by the gales of defeat When the forecast of life holds no promise It's still not the time to retreat A fresh glow appears in my vision Like a night sky by bright stars sequined. Then I know then I haven't forgotten That brightness at the butt of the wind At last when I'll see the horizon And that mist (self-deception) has cleared I'll ponder the journey before me And confront all the things that I've feared, Expecting a turbulent crossing As the Clergy point out that I've sinned But knowing that Salvation is certain By the brightness at the butt of the wind Chorus: © Mattie Lennon 2005 Music and vocals, John Hoban. * * * * * * Overheard in West Wicklow during the festive season: “Next Christmas Day falls on a Friday.” “I hope it’s not Friday the thirteenth.” Have a great 2026. See you in February. 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

A Fresh Start

Hi everybody. Happy New Year! I hope your holidays have been fun.

I want to talk about resolutions today. Traditionally, folks use the new year as a time to decide on things they want to get done in the coming year. I always have a bunch of things I’d like to do. Many times, I never get to them, or I get sidetracked along the way.

And then I am angry at myself.

So, the goal here is to get more stuff done without getting angry at yourself.

Many times, when you set a project out for yourself to do, there could be a steep learning curve involved. Say, for instance, you want to learn a new language.

As with writing, you need to set aside time to work on it. I used to think I didn’t have any time for writing. I began in earnest back when I was still working a full-time job. It just didn’t seem to be any room, and for years this put the kibosh on any real writing I did. I blamed my working life on interfering with what I really wanted to do.

How did I solve it? I took one of Toy Robbin’s courses. It was in the days before we had the internet, but we did have computers, where I do my best writing. I checked out a cassette tape of his course from the library. Since then, I’ve attended a couple of seminars that Tony gives periodically. That’s enough to pump you up. And, yes, you can pay money for these things or sit in on the first few days for free.

My solution? I realized there were no extra hours in the day to write. There was never going to be the perfect time to do it. So, I started getting up earlier. And that solved my problem. As time went on, I began to grab whatever moments were free when I was at home to write. Mostly, it was in my journals. And journals are an excellent place to start when you feel like you’d like to write something.

It’s good for the heart when you can pour your heart out. Number one, you’re not asking for opinions, nor are you going to frustrate or cause concern among family and friends. You just stand on your soapbox and shout to the world in your journal.

After years of doing this, it became an ingrained habit. Where I could sit down and write without needing a reason, and that is when eventually the blank-page syndrome stopped bothering me. If the phone rings, I can answer it. If somebody rings the doorbell, I can attend to that.

So, if it is Spanish you want to learn, decide for yourself how many sessions a week and how long you will need. Yes, you are constrained if you’ve got a job, but I know you can do it. I did. And I am not the most efficient person on the face of the earth. I have feet of clay just like anybody else. But I also know I can do stuff.

The other thing with a journey toward something. There may be times you need to detour. Maybe you discover that you’re not sticking to your schedule. Put in place some sort of incentive to address that. Ask yourself what could be a reward if you get the job done? If you were a kid, I’d offer you a bribe with a cookie or a visit to the park. Or, whatever. Can you trick your adult self into doing what you want?

I think you can. I'm working on myself.

For instance, I’ll write like a house on fire. Boom, one article written. Boom, another article written. Now, it’s getting near lunchtime. Boom, I start another article, and I’m about halfway through. I decide to eat lunch, or brunch, which usually is what happens to me. I settle down to read a book. Or I turn on YouTube and come up for air a couple of hours later. Do I want to finish the article? Usually, not. By that time, I’m ready for a nap.

In the last couple of weeks, I made a new rule for myself. I would not allow a partially written story to hang around. I did that for so long that my 12 file (where I put partially finished articles) is about 54 pages long. The rule there was that I’d snag one every once in a while and finish it. Except I never did.

Now, I have one document that I write in. I call it Doc 2. It’s got a schedule on it for all my upcoming articles, so I can keep that straight and meet my self-imposed obligations, but I will also finish it the day I start it.

In my articles for my WooWoo column here at PencilStubs, I always allow them to percolate for a couple of days. I might finish this one tomorrow or the day after. Generally, I will be able to do some editing once I’ve got an article on a platform like Medium, Substack, or my own website. With the WooWoo articles, I need some space to come back and make them more informative and/or interesting.

Anyway, that’s how I handle my writing.

But what about learning Spanish? I have a lifetime membership with Rosetta Stone. Every year, these platforms start having half-off sales around Thanksgiving and Christmas. I did that one year and have access to any number of languages to learn. The other thing I did a couple of weeks ago was to purchase a year’s membership for Lingopie.com at half price. You get to watch all sorts of television shows, movies, documentaries, and cartoons in your preferred language. I also already have a bazillion books for learning Spanish. Such a wealth of resources is available. Plus, if you wanted to, you could go to ChatGPT.com and have a conversation with it in another language to practice.

It seems that learning Spanish and taking the courses I like on Masterclass don’t have the same importance as I give to my writing.

How to address it?

Somebody in Spirit just told me to write in Spanish. Ha, that’s a joke. Donde esta? Where are you? Except there is an accent missing and another upside-down question mark in front of the question. My Spanish is severely lacking right now. I mean, it is terrible. But I’m getting older. I find myself forgetful on occasion, and I need to stimulate some brain cells. My resolutions for the new year? Give more importance to the time I need to learn Spanish and attend my classes on Masterclass.com. Right now, I’m taking a class about acting with Samuel L. Jackson. Not that I’m going to be acting, just as a writer, I felt the need to really get to know my characters when I start writing fiction.

It also occurred to me to write my Spanish dialogue and words in longhand in a notebook.

So, my WooWoo life is the same as yours. Pretty much, and I’ve got the same problems keeping my resolutions as anybody else. I hope, though, that I might have encouraged you to set your expectations higher for yourself this time around. Thanks for reading and Happy New Year.

Love, 🌺
Pauline Evanosky 🌺

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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.

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Cooking with Rod's Family

 

By Melinda Cohenour

A special treat my MomMay made when we had lots of fresh potatoes were her German-style potato pancakes. Like a really excellent hashbrown patty but with more complex flavor, her potato pancakes were perfectly browned on both sides with tender tasty potatoes on the inside — LenaMay's potato pancakes were a family favorite. (She also made a similar dish using leftover mashed potatoes but that's a different dish.)

MomMay's German-style potato pancakes made a mouth-watering savory treat, ideal for breakfast, a side dish for dinner, or a quick tummy filler.

Bon appetit ~!

Lena May's German-Style Potato Pancakes

Ingredients:

2 lbs (about 6 to 8 medium potatoes, peeled. Mother used russet or Idaho potatoes. We prefer Yukon Gold now but any firm fleshed potato will work.)

2 large eggs, lightly beaten

½ cup finely chopped Spanish onion (the yellow onion cooks sweeter and gives best flavor for this dish)

2 tbsp all-purpose flour

¼ tsp baking powder

½ tsp salt

¼ tsp freshly ground black pepper

¼ cup rendered bacon grease or fresh bacon grease. If you decide to serve crisp bacon with your meal, use the pan grease to fry the potato pancakes (leave about 1/4 cup in the pan but add more while preparing separate batches as needed. Your choice to strain out bacon bits or leave in with fresh grease.)

(MEC NOTE: You can add a tablespoon or so of sweet or salty creamery butter. MomMay kept rendered bacon grease always. Never would she pollute these delicious potato pancakes with vegetable oil!)

Toppings suggested for serving (optional but really add to the visual and taste appeal. Suggest you make an attractive topping AND provide side dishes for your guests to add to their plates as desired): *Applesauce, sour cream, chopped chives, and freshly crumbled crisp bacon, even sliced and browned Polska Kielbasa (Polish type link sausage). (MomMay made fabulous apple butter and, my favorite, Baked Apples with brown sugar, cinnamon and pie spice)

Note about these Instructions:

Our mother made these often and they were one of my favorite special treats. She served them most often for weekend brunch along with bacon or ham or sausage and eggs AND for a real treat some of her braided sourdough bread! Sometimes cinnamon toast ... Or oven toasted buttered bread slices. Yummy.

The point being I watched MomMay make these, often helped so I searched my memory for how she (later, I) made these treats... Here's my

Instructions:

1. Begin heating a large cast iron griddle or skillet over a low heat with about 1/4 cup good clear previously rendered bacon grease (rendered means all food bits have been removed and grease reduced to a clear liquid then cooled before being added to the storage tin. Never allow the grease to smoke while rendering; heat slowly.)

2. Wash and peel potatoes. Rinse and place in container of water, enough to cover all spuds.

3. In large mixing bowl beat the eggs to a creamy texture. Add minced onions, flour, baking powder, salt and pepper and whisk together briskly.

4. Prepare potatoes: we used a ricer but modern technology offers a variety of ways to shred the potatoes to resemble uncooked hash browns - food processor, manually by box shredder (any type), potato peeler (least effective and labor intensive!)


Using a clean absorbent dishtowel or linen, squeeze handfuls of the shredded potatoes over the sink to remove every drop of liquid possible. Wet potatoes will not crisp up. Transfer dried handfuls to a separate bowl, then repeat the process. Only after all the liquid possible has been removed add to the egg and flour mixture


Stir until all shreds of potatoes have been coated.

5. Turn up heat on griddle or skillet. When a drop of water "skittles" (sizzles and skitters across the surface) the pan is ready to fry your pancakes.

6. Don't crowd the pancakes. Turn after gently raising the patty to check browning on the bottom. When to your liking, flip.


Repeat this process until all pancakes have been fried. Add grease as needed and make sure to bring pan heat back to optimal for a fast crisp browning. Keep first batches warm on an oven-proof pan in your oven.

7. Serve still warm with a dollop of sour cream, sprinkle of bacon crumbles, some pretty green parsley or chives (can use some thin-sliced green onion tops if you choose.)

Delicious with eggs over medium or sunny side up, breakfast meat(s), and nice warm crusty bread. Might add biscuits and sausage gravy.

Offer sides of baked apples, apple butter, jams or jellies, more sour cream, fresh slices of melon or oranges. Crisp sticks of celery, bell pepper, maybe carrots and a side of sweet thick tomato slices. Enjoy!

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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.

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Introspective

 

By Thomas F. O'Neill

As most of you already know, I lived in China from 2009 to 2023, and it was an extraordinary experience. In December 2009, I experienced my first Christmas Holiday there. The cities were all lit up with Christmas lights, and they were so beautifully displayed, especially in the city of Suzhou, where I lived.

The lights brought out the Christmas spirit in me. The Chinese also enjoyed celebrating this special season by lighting bonfires. Some sang songs and danced around the large glowing fires.

They also set off large firework displays in the night sky. It was an ancient tradition that went back thousands of years. It's one of their ways of coming together as a community to celebrate their abundance and be thankful for one another. That was just one of the reasons I found this season so special there.

Like in America, parents and children alike also took great joy in Santa's arrival on Christmas Day. I truly enjoyed seeing the young children's faces light up at the sight of Santa, the jolly old soul.

What intrigued me most about the Christmas season in China was that the majority of those who celebrated this time of year were non-Christian. The Buddhists have also embraced the season as a time to give thanks.

It is unfortunate because this has all changed: all public displays of the Christmas season have been outlawed in China. The Chinese Government ruled that the Western holiday traditions are negatively impacting China's youth.

They would prefer the youth in China to celebrate their own cultural traditions. They see Western influence not only as a threat but also as a potential erasure of China's long cultural heritage.

This draconian law did not stop me from spreading some holiday cheer to my students before I departed from China. As you can see from the photos, Santa will always have his devoted followers.

From my heart to yours, I wish you all a very merry and joyous holiday season.

Always with love,

Thomas F O'Neill

Email: introspective7@hotmail.com

WeChat - Thomas_F_ONeill

Phone: (410) 925-9334

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Thomas_F_ONeill

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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.

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Sifoddling Along

 

By Marilyn Carnell

January is not the longest month, but it seems that way. Here in Minnesota, it is day after day of freezing weather. The days are getting longer, but it still feels as though we are shrouded in darkness for too many hours. But January is also a time of new beginnings – an opportunity for a fresh start on projects, visiting with friends and family. Even those many miles away are now accessible by phone or computer. We do live in miraculous times.

Mankind seems to have an innate urge to record or mark events and things they want to remember or observe. We are still discovering examples of their efforts - pictographs in caves and stones, medicine wheels, modified message trees, knotted strings used for accounting – the list goes on and on. We continue to follow that urge, adopting change at a faster and faster rate.

I don’t make a list of New Year’s Resolutions, but I do intend to finish the book I began writing more than five years ago. It is about the Civil War in southwest Missouri. Coping with the changes I experienced after moving into a senior living apartment last February and dealing with the chaos of daily news filled my time. I couldn’t get my head back into the 1860’s with the ease I once had. The book is my version of a cave painting – a picture of a young woman’s life of struggle for survival when the world around her collapses.

My generation growing up in the southwest Missouri Ozarks is the last to have experienced a lifestyle little different from the times following that dreadful conflict. It was as if time stopped for nearly 100 years. As the youngest child of two youngest children in their families, I grew up hearing the last remnants of Elizabethan English commonly spoken, the colorful colloquial expressions and a lifestyle that had one foot in the 1800’s and the other in the twenty first century.

My parents learned to write with a chalk stick and slate. I started school with a Big Chief tablet and a #2 pencil. My grandchildren casually use computers and cell phones in everyday life.

The year 2026 will hold enormous changes that no one can predict. I can only hope that they will draw us together to face them with resolve.

Happy New Year!

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On Trek

By Judith Kroll

Life

Like Rain on the tin roof, is the beat of an unborn heart. It is steady, and gentle, new life, new love.

I held my hand over my extended stomach and felt the movements, and heard the music of the heart beat, and I fell in love all over again. I never even new a child was part of me for three months. I suspected it, but didn’t have it confirmed until three months. Baby had grown silently without my knowing. That is a miracle.

We are constantly bombarded with miracles in our lives. Sometimes we perceive them and sometimes we don’t, but either way, they are there.

What are the tiny miracles that happen do us all the time? When a person sees an animal in trouble, and fixes that situation to save or help the animal, that is a miracle, for the animal. Right place at the right time and the right person shows up. Yes, we are part of the miracles, like a woman giving birth. , like the doctor and nurse helping in that birth. Like the parents raising the child to become wholesome adults in this colorful world.

When we experience a sunrise, or jump with joy when we see the first bud pop thru the earth after a hard winter. These are truly miracles.

When a another soul touches our soul even if it is with a smile, that is a miracle as well. Anytime our soul jumps we remember, we rejoice, we feel connected to the universe, that is a miracle. Yes, there are many disturbing ,hateful, unloving aspects of people on this planet. We just continue to shine our soul power and it will help others shine their soul power, and then others hopefully will catch on.
Judith

Pixie

Look at a picture of a Pixie. I have seen one in real life. He was about the size of my thumb.

I was in bed. I woke up and saw a little boy wearing a baby blue shirt, and shorts. He looked like a friendly fella. He had the cutest smile. He kept looking down at me and smiling.

I raised my hand and offered for him to rest on my hand, but he didn't move. I thought he was flesh and blood, and at the time I never heard of Pixies. I looked them up on line, and found a picture.

I could feel his love and kindness, and then he decided to leave. To my surprise he went right thru the wall to the outside. So He was spirit. Some say he can do both, be flesh and blood, and spirit.

I am amazed at the abundance of love that is in the world. Yet we tend to pass it/them over, or we are told it/they are bad. We are surrounded with love. We just have to teach ourselves to be aware.

I read a mushroom acts as an antenna for a tree, trees. That is how they, the trees communicate. Life is active in so many forms.

May we continue to be blessed with the different aspects of love on this planet. Even an apple is love.
Judith

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Make 2026 the Year You Finally Decide

 

Make 2026 the Year You Finally Decide

By Ara Parisien

Every new year arrives with a collective hopefulness — a bright moment where possibility feels closer than difficulty. But hope alone has never been what shapes a life. Hope wishes. Intention chooses.

As we move toward 2026, the invitation is not merely to hope things get better. It is to intend that your experience shifts — because intentions carry energy, direction, and alignment. When you intend, you are no longer asking life to bring you something. You are declaring who you are and allowing life to respond to that truth.

Most people wait for change. They wait for better circumstances, a sign, a breakthrough. But waiting is not creation.
Intending is.

The Power of I AM

Every moment of your life is being shaped by a quiet but powerful declaration within you — your I AM.

I AM is the creative pulse that never sleeps. It doesn’t wait for calendars to turn or resolutions to form. It is active in every breath, every thought, every assumption you make about yourself and your life.

What you attach to I AM becomes your reality:

I am overwhelmed.
I am unlucky.
I am stuck.

These are intentions too — unconscious ones.

But when you begin to direct your I AM on purpose, everything changes:

I am capable.
I am powerful.
I am open to receiving more.
I am the one who decides how this year will unfold.

The Universe listens. Your energy responds. People treat you differently. Opportunities reveal themselves where previously you saw only barriers. Because when you change who you are being, life reorganizes to match.

Loving You Into Expansion

Your I AM is not merely a statement — it is the essence of you. It is Source expressing as you. It is the part of you that knows your worth, your capability, your brilliance. It knows that growth is your nature and joy is your birthright.

It loves you so much that it honors every intention — even the ones that keep you small — because you are a sovereign creator.

But in 2026, what if you choose differently?

What if you allow that love to elevate you instead of simply sustain you?

What if you become the version of yourself you have been whispering about for years?

This Year, Intend It

Do not hope that 2026 will be the year things fall into place.
Intend that you will be the one placing them.

Intend that:

You speak to yourself like someone worth believing in.

You take aligned steps instead of waiting for permission.

You value your energy, your peace, and your truth above approval.

You live from desire, not from fear.

You trust that every experience is guiding you into more, not less.

You don’t need guarantees. You are the guarantee.

Decide Now

2026 can be the year everything changes — not because the year holds magic, but because you do.

Say it clearly:
I AM ready. I AM willing. I AM choosing the highest version of my life.

And then… respond to every moment as if that is already true.

You are not stepping into a new year — you are stepping into a new YOU.

This is the year you decide
This is the year you rise.
This is the year your I AM becomes undeniable.

My main wish for everyone is to choose to live deliberately and not allow life to live you.

You have the power.

In fact, you ARE the power.

©December 2025 Ara Parisien

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Fall Garden

 

By Mary E. Adair

Not a single branch bereaves
The fallen congregating leaves
That sudden wind and rain has ripped...
From the heart of summer, life is stripped.

Here an Iris, there a rose,
And some golden bloom near their toes
Shines above a carpet of gold;
Russet and flame we can behold.

Standing proudly each bloom seems to say
I've waited so long, now this is my day!
And truly their beauty is their worth...
Their goal reached, as they shine forth,

Touched by a sunbeam, cloaked with dew...
Ah, if the innocent blossoms knew
That soon they'll lose their ephemeral grace,
And in the path, fall on their face.

Why are we touched by such a show?
Is it because our heart seems to know
Our thoughts are being trained by such
(And everything only lives so much)

So that while we're here, in our turn,
And vibrant life within does burn,
Being the best that we can be,
Is today's lesson on Eternity.

©November 17, 2003 Mary E. Adair
Encore

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This Is January

 

By John I. Blair

That was December,
The month for new stars
And silent nights,
Glittering garlands
And open, trusting hands,
When children’s dreams
Keep hope alive.

This is January,
The month for new starts,
When Winter’s really here
With an aching honesty
And nothing to hide --
All adult, no “seems,”
Just raw demands.

Celebrate December;
But January, survive.

©2005 John I. Blair
Encore

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Rambling Thought about New Years

 

By Walt Perryman

In a couple of days, it will be 2026 instead of 2025,
And it’s going to be 82 years that I’ve been alive.

It seems, each year passes by faster than the one before,
And every year I ask God to please let me live for one more.

I believe that our Almighty God is the one with the plan.
So, I pray, Lord, help me to stay as close to you as I can.

©12/29/2025 Walt Perryman

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The Best In A Happy New Year

 

By Bud Lemire

As one year comes to an end, a new one will begin
I think of all my blessings, and I do so with a grin
Thoughts of what has passed, now becomes the old
Things that are yet to come, waiting to unfold

Each year comes, and there's so much in each one
A story in our lives, until that year is done
What will the new one, have in store for me
If it is as great as this one, I can't wait to see

Sunsets, sunrises, clouds up in the sky
Chipmunks, squirrels, and the birds that love to fly
Events and feelings, of the love I feel
Closer to my heart and soul, all that can be real

Like a Picture Book, captured with my eye
I make the most of each day, as it passes by
I snap a picture, and I can look back and see
To a time captured, replayed in my memory

I can look at any picture, and be right there and then
Like a long ago lifetime, yet I often remember when
I look forward to a new adventure, in the New Year
As the people who have passed, whisper in my ear
They guide me on my journey, to let me know they are there
They support me with their love, and they know I am aware

The love of a woman, who I love so very much
A gentle soul, with that special human touch
She completes me in all ways, with her divine light
She's always in my dreams, every single night

Wherever you may go, wherever you will be
Remember to love all creatures, that is the key
Dance to the music, listen closely and you'll hear
Me wishing you, the best in a Happy New Year

©Dec 13, 2015 Bud Lemire
Encore

                        Author Note:

Every year brings us so many great things and
experiences to look back on. As the years move
ahead, there is so much to look forward to. Many
times it's the unexpected happenings that just pop up
at any given moment, that makes each year special
The journey continues. I wonder what the new year
will bring this year.

Happy New Year!

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Looking for Spring

 

By John I. Blair

Even in the dead of Winter
When the air is cold and no birds sing
I look each morning for some small sign
That Spring will come.
The buds that cling along bare twigs
Remind me that one day, not so very far away,
The rain and warming air will bring
A rush of new life to everything.
And if I pull aside the dead leaves on the ground,
Hiding beneath may be the green tips
Of Spring bulbs sheltering in the soil,
Holding future glories of color and perfume.
This is an ancient story that never gets old,
That even on a silent Winter day
Spring is waiting.
©2002 John I. Blair
Encore

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Our Day after Christmas

 

By Walt Perryman

It’s the day after Christmas and all through the house,
Our dog, Daisy has already woken me and my spouse.

We really had a good Christmas; I can truthfully say!
We did not have a tree, or any gifts to return today.

But Jesus was with us in our souls and our hearts!
To have a true Christmas, it only takes these two parts.

We’ll ask God to stay in our hearts every time we pray.
And ask Him to celebrate forever with us like yesterday.

©12/26/2025 Walt Perryman

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Precious Is The Time

 

By Bud Lemire

The time here on Earth goes so very fast
Moments that we cherish never seem to last
A serious illness or a heart attack
Without a warning and there's no going back

Precious is the time that we spend here
With all the people that we each hold dear
Family and friends and the joy they bring
Winter, Summer, Autumn, and into Spring

Times keeps on ticking and quickly passing by
Counting down the days until it's time to die
Within your lifespan, do the things you need to do
What I mean is, do what the means the most to you

If you have something left unfinished, or somewhere you wish to go
Someone you need to be with, then you must listen to your soul
Don't waste time, make it a happening event
Each day is worthy of the time that is spent

Don't just sit there and wait
It might just be too late
Do it now, be where you need to be
Get it done, happiness is your destiny
Don't waste time, the end is drawing near
Precious is the time, make it count while you are here

©Dec 4, 2014 Bud Lemire

                      Author Note:

Don't just sit there wishing and hoping for the most
meaningful things in your life to happen, do them!
If you have someone you know you are suppose to be
with, go be with them. If there is something you've always
wanted to do, do it. Is there somewhere you want to be,
be there. Don't wait, because time keeps moving on and
you need to make the move soon, before it's too late.
Because here on Earth, happiness is what you deserve.

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Listening

 

By John I. Blair

So soon we leap to speak our minds,
Sometimes shouting to be heard,
Standing so certain on our convictions,
Knowing we're right, and ready to fight.

How little value we seem to place
On the skill of listening first,
Just listening, and being still,
Hearing what others have to say.

And after listening, thinking hard,
Reflecting on words that we have heard,
Bouncing them around inside our brains
Until we really understand.

Only then should we share our thoughts,
Always remembering that what we say
We'll have to live with for many a day.

©2003 John I. Blair
Encore

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What I Want for Christmas

 

By Walt Perryman

All I want for Christmas is Peace on Earth,
And to celebrate the time Mary gave birth.

It is not about any of the gifts that we receive anyway!
It is about Jesus being born on Christmas Day !

But Satan has most of us worshiping money instead.
Because he has managed to put greed in our head!

So, this time, Let’s tell Satan we’ve had enough.
And then we will worship Jesus instead of stuff!

If we were to celebrate like Jesus wants us too,
I guess old Satan wouldn’t have anything to do.

So, what do you say, let’s all of us change our way?
And put a smile on Jesus’s face on Christmas day.

©12/12/2025 Walt Perryman

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A Victory In Life's Game

 

By Bud Lemire

Everyone is born unique and special in their own way
We each have our own challenges we face every day
Some of us are slower, some of us are faster
We can be the followers, or we can be the master

Understanding and accepting others is the key
For that's the way life is always going to be
It takes a real heroic soul to truly appreciate
Those who need a little help in their present state

Sometimes you have to fight with all that you got
To even have a halfway chance at a fairly good shot
Watching out for one another is what we must do
A guiding hand for a friend, to help them through

Run as fast as you can for a touch down
With friends that care, you'll never feel the ground
They'll keep any fall from being too hard
And see that you'll treasure life's winning card

Sometimes the challenges are harder for some
Depending on where in life, you're coming from
Team work is what is needed here
To ease the team player from any fear

You'll feel great right down in your soul
That your help touched someone that you know
After that you'll never be quite the same
You will have scored A Victory In Life's Game

©Dec 5, 2013 Bud Lemire
Encore

                      Author Note:

We need to reach out and help those
who are a little different than us.
Show our support, show we care. When we do,
we will know how great it feels
way down deep in our soul.

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Deja Vu

 

By John I. Blair

Let me make one thing clear:
I really don't believe reincarnation,
I really don't believe I've been reborn
Over and over across the eons.

Yet sometimes when I'm trotting
From one room to another
In this modern office tower,
I court the thought I've done it all before.

I've scurried down a cloister,
Wrapped in my woolen robes,
Anticipating the abbot's jibes
About my clumsy toil in the scriptorium.

I've waited endless hours
In a chilly marble chamber,
Eyeing armed centurions,
Clutching my petition to the emperor.

I've threaded my way fearfully
Through claustrophobic temple corridors,
At each dim corner drawing nearer
To the holiest of holies.

I've crept with smoking torches
Deep into the mountain cave,
Hoping to complete the sacred painting
Before the woolly mammoth hunt.

If anything's to be learned
From all these flights of fancy:
Though circumstances change,
Anxiety stays much the same.

©2003 John I. Blair
Encore

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What Christmas Was, Is or Isn’t?

 

By Walt Perryman

Well, it is almost time for Christmas again,
To celebrate when Christianity first begin.

Christmas feels different to me than before!
Back when I had less, but I wanted more!

This year Christmas means a lot more to me,
Because it's about Jesus, not what’s under the tree!

So, if you’ve allowed ‘stuff’ to be to big of a part,
See how good it feels when you give from the heart.

Well, I reckon this next line will about say it all,
“Go read the Bible instead of going to the mall.”

©12/17/2025 Walt Perryman

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In The New Year

 

By Bud Lemire

In the New Year, I wish for normality
All the things, that mean the most to me
Everyone treated as equal, no one is above
All the hate banished, and a lot more love
No force, no enemies, friends working together
All the special moments, that we can treasure

No pointing fingers, with revenge, at those who disagree
Nobody should be a prisoner, in the land of the free
Nobody should ever, in this world, be abused
It's not the human way, for anyone to be used
In this country, we need so much more respect
To add to that, we need to have less neglect

Freedom should always ring true, in this country we live in
I believe 2026, is a great place for better things to begin
Liars, cheaters, the rich, and those who have the power to do
Should never be the ones, to ever undermine you
Adults should never, sexually abuse anyone
That should never be, anyone's idea of fun

This has got to stop, and I mean right away!
This isn't the USA, when all colors turn to gray
In the New Year, let's bring back normality
This year it wasn't, the way it should ever be

© Dec 28, 2025 Bud Lemire
Encore

                         Author Note:

There's so much more to add to this,
but I will end it here.
I want the America back,
the one I know and love.
We the people, must bring it back.

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The Promise

By Bruce Clifford

Breaking a promise is something I would never do to you.
You asked me not to promise I would read a book or two.
I’ve always felt as if we’ve been here before.
Our hearts and souls are miracles to explore.

Walking in a dream, you, and I side by side.
Swimming where we swam as we take a scenic drive.
Time zones and the distance can’t keep your smile away.
I would never break a promise or leave you feeling betrayed.

Not every promise is meant to be broken.
Some fly away and words are left unspoken.

Finding myself awake in the middle of the night.
The next dream was so mystical it made me feel alive.
Each moment with you I treasure from every beat within my heart.
A dream to last forever as we gaze out to the stars.

We took pictures of the same moon from opposite sides of the sea.
The same distant object as we wondered how this could be.
I gazed into your eyes as they sparkled in the light.
The promise of what’s amazing every day and every night.

Not every promise is meant to be broken.
Some fly away and words are left unspoken.

I can promise you I have now read a page or more.
Every word no matter the language is something to explore.
What’s important to you matters very much to me.
A promise is never empty if you have some faith in me.

©12/10/2025 Bruce Clifford

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