“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Margaret Bumbalo called this morning and invited me over for supper this evening. [...]

(Joe Bumbalo came back into the hospital this afternoon in preparation for his fourth dose of chemotherapy. [...]

[...] Marguerite Bumbalo visited, and Ellsbeth, and Frank Longwell [twice]. [...]

[...] Margaret Bumbalo had asked me over for a drink when I got home, but I was in no hurry. [...]

[...] The day before, John Bumbalo had taken me back and forth to the hospital.

[...] Margaret Bumbalo visited just as she, Jane, was finishing supper. [...]

[...] Margaret Bumbalo had called earlier in the afternoon and invited me over for supper. [...]

[...] Margaret Bumbalo visited her just as I was leaving.

[...] Margaret Bumbalo called, and left supper for me in the mailbox. [...]

[...] Margaret Bumbalo invited me over for supper, and I didn’t know whether to accept or not, since I wanted to be sure I got this session typed. [...]

(Margaret Bumbalo and Debbie visited Jane last night; she also called me around 8:30. [...]

(Margaret Bumbalo called before I left Jane and invited me to supper, but by then I was full. [...]

Physically, for example, you are in much better physical condition than Joe Bumbalo, but he is a prime example, to you, of the exteriorized consciousness—and while on the one hand you envy his shoveling the walk, you are to some degree underneath all that, somewhat contemptuous—somewhat, now; I do not want to speak too strongly, but simply help you become aware of some feelings you might have submerged because you think they are not nice. [...]

[...] The Bumbalos, for example, envy you, as do the Gallaghers, but they are afraid of subjective reality. [...]

[...] It was Margaret Bumbalo, come to visit. [...]

[...] I told Jane that the material made me speculate about Joe Bumbalo: He’s had many operations in his life, and has been shot full of drugs often. [...]

[...] I took a shower, ate breakfast and fed the cats, put the trash out to be picked up by the service we subscribe to, and gave both Classie and “Black Dog” — whose name, Margaret Bumbalo told me, is Missy — snacks of dry cat food. [...]

(I described my dream of the other day, which I’d already told Jane about: I’d been sitting on our couch with Jane and our neighbor, Joe Bumbalo. [...]

[...] I gave her the hair barrettes, combs and other accoutrements, which I was pleased to see she liked, and she gave me a vest which Debbie had picked up for her, and an umbrella which Margaret Bumbalo had picked up for her. [...]

[...] He would have gone to the party (at Bumbalo’s on December 29) with some encouragement from you, and you gave him none—for cleverly, when one is ready to move the other is not.

(Yesterday and today she did paintings of a bouquet of daisies and sweet peas that the Bumbalos brought back from their lakeside cottage. [...]