“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

Now I bid you another most fond good afternoon —

(“Good afternoon, Seth.”)

(I told Jane that I hoped Frank Longwell had gotten his young friend to mow the grass this afternoon, as he’d promised to do this morning, but nothing doing. [...]

(On her regular Friday-afternoon visit, Peggy and Jane and I waited for Roe, who was scheduled to visit—but Roe, mysteriously, never showed up. [...] When Peggy came on Monday afternoon. [...]

(I read yesterday afternoon’s session to Jane this morning. [...]

[...] A note about the bedsore suggestions given by our nurse, Peggy J: Last Wednesday afternoon during her regular visit Peggy told us she’d talked to her boss, Roe—also a nurse—and that Friday Roe would meet her here to look at Jane’s bedsores. [...]

[...] This afternoon he was to come back and do the raking.

[...] It gave me a strange feeling of freedom; the afternoon seemed stretched out, or longer. [...]

Now I bid you another fond good afternoon.

(“Good afternoon, Seth.”)

Now — I bid you a fond good afternoon.

(“Good afternoon, Seth.”)

I bid you a fond good afternoon —

***All afternoon, right side of head and body get “lighter”. Almost impossible to describe but it’s as if a million tiny things in my head were just off enough, so that the rest of the body didn’t work right, walk right; as if the body wasn’t synchronized and as if this afternoon it was fitting together again correctly; all the parts lining up or something. [...]

[...] We also had the privilege throughout the afternoon of watching a “holiday special” on TV—three Godzilla/King Kong movies in a row. [...]

Now: another fond good afternoon. [...]

(“Afternoon, Seth.”)

[...] I related the whole business to Jane this afternoon after she’d finished lunch, and expressed my frank hope that “a certain party” might have some pertinent comments on the whole affair. [...]

[...] All afternoon she’d complained that she wasn’t doing anything: no Seven, no session.... [...]

(“Afternoon. [...]

—Good later afternoon. [...]

[...] During the afternoon she said that she’d never worried about the insurance question. [...]

I bid you another fond good afternoon.

(“Good afternoon, Seth.”)

I bid you now a fond good afternoon, and I do indeed activate those coordinates that quicken healing and exuberance.

[...] We agreed on the location of the Crimson King red maple in the back yard; Frank is to plant it tomorrow afternoon, and bring the young fellow with him to mow the grass, which is some six inches high. [...]

Now I bid you another fine good afternoon.

(“Good afternoon, Seth.”)

(“Good afternoon, Seth.” [...]

(Jane was already on her back when I got to 330 this afternoon; Gail Greene had had to turn her in order to check the catheter, which at first had refused to irrigate. [...]

Now: I bid you another fond good afternoon. [...]

(“Afternoon, Seth.”)

[...] This in turn led me to speculate about probable realities in general as I drove to the hospital this afternoon. [...]

Now, I bid you another most fond good afternoon —

(“Good afternoon, Seth.”)

(“Good afternoon, Seth.”

[...] This afternoon we were speculating that she’s about due to return. [...]

[...] As I was taking my nap in 330 this afternoon, Margaret Bumbalo called, inviting me across the street for supper this evening.)

Now I bid you another most fond good afternoon —

(“Good afternoon, Seth.”)

(“Good afternoon, Seth.”

I bid you another most fond good afternoon.

(“Good afternoon, Seth.”)

(“Good afternoon, Seth.”

Now: I bid you another fond good afternoon.

(“Good afternoon, Seth.”)

[...] In fact, we finally realized that no one had checked Jane’s vitals or emptied her Foley all afternoon. [...]

(Strange: Later in the afternoon I finally made an important connection about the unexpected value of dreams. [...]

Now — I bid you another most fond good afternoon —

(“Good afternoon, Seth.”)

I bid you both another fond good afternoon, and I have indeed quickened those coordinates that lead to healing and well-being.

I bid you another fond good afternoon.

(“Good afternoon, Seth.”)

(Perhaps two or three inches of snow fell this afternoon; now I’ll probably shovel for a while in the driveway. [...]

[...] I left the garage door open for him, as promised, so he could get in the house in the afternoon when I wasn’t there. [...]

[...] Jane did want to have a session this afternoon.)

Now: I bid you another fond good afternoon.

(“Good afternoon, Seth.”)

Now I bid you another most fond good afternoon —

(“Good afternoon, Seth.”)

Now I bid you a most fond good afternoon.

(“Good afternoon, Seth. [...]

[...] After a minor snow storm yesterday afternoon and last night, I’d shoveled the driveway late last night and early this morning. [...]

Now: I bid you another fond good afternoon.

(“Good afternoon, Seth.”

(“I hadn’t planned on asking about this this afternoon — but lately I’ve noticed that my close-up vision without glasses isn’t as sharp as it used to be. [...]

(Last night, April 10, 1964, just before I fell asleep, I had the following experience: My eyes were closed but I saw a sheet of paper filled with script that I recognized to be the handwriting of Dee Masters, my supervisor at the Arnot Art Gallery where I work in the afternoons.

[...] I had forgotten the incident completely until this afternoon, April 11, 1964.)