“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

(Surprise! As Jane and I were getting ready to eat lunch several staff people, including Cathy, Jan, Mary the head nurse, Dawn, Sue, brought in a large flat-pan cake decorated for the 30th anniversary of Jane and me. They’d ordered it made downstairs in dietary. We were really surprised. On top of all that, the cake itself was very good. Several of the girls took pieces with them as they went back to work, and Jane and I had some after lunch. There’s enough cake for all three shifts. I brought home a couple of smallish pieces.

(But the very act of bringing the cake showed what the people there think of us—heartwarming indeed, to coin an original phrase. They’d all found out our anniversary date through the holiday talk, and knew we hadn’t done anything ourselves to celebrate it.

(Jane ate well, and for dessert had some cake and ice cream. At her suggestion, she tried eating same from a paper plate on her belly. She managed to eat some of it with a spoon, but had trouble also. Nevertheless, as she said, it was something she wouldn’t have even thought of a couple of weeks ago—another great sign, I told her.

[...] Since it was a pleasant summer evening on July 1, we held the party out on the back lawn, leaving the cake upstairs in our apartment as a surprise for Bill. When the time came to get the cake Jane and I went upstairs together, lit the candles on the cake while hiding on the stairs, then carried the cake out to the party.

[...] Jane then typed up what we could remember; we corrected it as shown on page 51, then Jane copied it over to give Bill, along with a cake. [...]

[...] The birthday cake we gave Bill Gallagher on July 1st was frosted. [...]

2) Make cake, walk bedroom, john, etc.

11:30–11:45: Do dishes, make coffee, get coffee cake, feed cat & go to john before sitting down. [...]

[...] Later in the afternoon Jane and I had small portions of the ice-cream cake I’d bought for the staff; very rich. [...]

[...] She suddenly asked me to lay the paper dish holding the cake on her lap, and to give her the spoon. [...]

(The crew at the hospital did have a birthday party for me, and even though I knew what they were up to, it was still a delightful surprise, what with their obvious good will and cheers, the cards, and the food — more than we could eat, at least Jane and I. Mary, the head nurse, made the chocolate cake with chocolate icing. [...] I also blew out all of the candles on the cake — perhaps 25 of them — in one breath, which I don’t think staff expected I could do.

7) Chocolate in any form: Cake, ice cream, donuts, pie, candy, cookies, drinks or malts, puddings and sherbets, etc.

[...] Coffee cake is no answer. Either he may be hungry and take his nap, or he may eat coffee cake for example that initially supplies energy that quickly depletes itself—just about the time his nap is finished.

[...] It seems to you, then, that the world began—or must have begun—at some point in the past¹ (a one-minute pause at 9:18), but that is like supposing that one piece of a cake is the whole cake, which was baked in one oven and consumed perhaps in an afternoon.

[...] The strawberry cake was impossibly rich and sweet, though.

[...] Elisabeth, our German friend, left a lemon cake for me and had brought Jane an Easter basket.

(After I’d had a nap Jane remembered to tell me that this morning, after hydro, she’d had an “experience” in which she’d seen herself baking a cake in the kitchen at 1730 Pinnacle, putting it in the oven, and so forth. [...]

[...] Your compliments are always the frosting on the cake, and he responds to them more than you imagine. [...]

[...] An incident involving a birthday cake, and fire, though not disastrous. [...]

[...] She dropped in for a visit, bringing a pudding cake and a Christmas card to her from an old friend-classmate of Marian’s; Marian had seen her friend last year for the first time in 15 years. [...]

[...] They asked what my favorite cake was while telling me theirs — and I said chocolate with chocolate icing.

[...] A crust of bread was far more delicious to me than any piece of cake, however well-frosted, had ever been in lives before.

[...] He could to some extent have his cake and eat it too.

Were you born once in winter,
in Europe’s ice and snow,
when villages were dark at night
and wolves roamed the towering hills?
Or dark-skinned, did your swaddling cry
pierce Egypt’s early dawn?
How many birthdays come and gone,
how many homelands, each your own?
How many loves have whispered through
the patterns of your mind?
How many sons and daughters have grown
from your womb or loins?
What voices merge with mine
to wish you happy birthday,
and what loves within your past
lay out a feast of wine and cakes?

[...] Your time perception shows you but one slice of the whole cake, for instance.