“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

On this October day last fall, as we stood in Jane and Rob’s driveway, (now my driveway also) at Pinnacle Road, Rob and most of the group started looking around the front of the house. I stood talking at the entrance of our driveway with a writer in the group.

[...] The front of the house, facing Pinnacle Road, cannot be seen from where all of us were standing in the driveway to the side and in back of it. On the map Laurel showed me how the bird had suddenly zoomed into view low over the house from Pinnacle Road, and then flown even lower toward the two women near the back of the second car in the driveway. [...]

[...] No admittance, private property, a sign proclaimed, so we stood in the driveway just off the road to study the farm and its open and peaceful setting. [...]

Once our three cars were parked in or near 1730’s driveway, Debbie Serra helped me unload the overstuffed roadside mailbox and carry the pile to my SUV. [...]

[...] First, we’d moved back to 458 W. Water — which I seem to do several times a week — and looking out my old studio windows, I saw my father cutting hair like a barber out in the driveway in front of the garage. [...]

Give us a moment … The apartment house in which Ruburt and Joseph presently reside has a shared driveway.

[...] The driveway is shared with a very wealthy family next door, in which the same size house is a home to one family. [...]

[...] The first one came early this morning after I’d shoveled but a few scoops of snow in the driveway—no work involved at all, really, but I had to quit for fear of having an “attack” of some kind. [...]

[...] Now seldom do we go in or out of the driveway without glancing at the group of rocks I placed upon his grave.

(I was amused during the visit to learn that “two little old ladies, one who’s interested in your stuff and one who’s a skeptic,” waited in the car in the driveway while Michaellen and I talked under the porch light. [...]

[...] When I went outside I made sure the porch door was latched so that Mitzi couldn’t get out; she sat silhouetted against the light coming from the kitchen window as she watched me walk down the driveway. [...]

As I moved down the driveway I was thinking of what I wanted to cover next in these notes. [...]

[...] The cicadas and the katydids still sounded their hypnotic rhythms, I’ve heard geese often lately, moving south in noisy waves, and we’ve had deer in our driveway several times. [...]

[...] Others, we saw, were impressed too: men doing flood repair work in a downstairs apartment came outside to stand in the driveway, staring skyward. [...]

1. See the notes on the shared-driveway situation as presented at the 11:43 break for the last session.

[...] They moved leisurely across Holley Road into our own driveway, nibbling at fallen sumac leaves and the bushes. [...]

[...] Amazing, the way their honking carried back to Jane and me as we stood in the driveway. [...]

[...] I turned the car around in the driveway, wheeled her out in her office chair, and managed to get her up onto the front seat, awkwardly and with discomfort. [...]

[...] The authorities turned the contract down — but the authorities stood for the inner disciplinarians, and you did not want to share your road with the world; nor did you want, later, to share your driveway (for the Sayre house) with your neighbor.

(Considering parallels, here’s another of the many “connections” that Jane and I have become aware of since we began our housing odyssey last year [already we’ve compiled a list of 30 similar relationships]: Three out of the four dwellings that in one way or another we’ve been seriously involved with possess driveways shared by next-door neighbors — Mr. Markle’s in Sayre; the apartment house we live in now; and the house in Elmira that we considered buying in 1964. [...]

[...] Some connection with a porch here (I don’t know if Jerry has one); ground floor—some room off a porch, or off the driveway she thinks he should sleep in (tore front porch off this house—enclosed as sun porch. [...]

[...] Jane sat in the doorway that opens from her writing room onto the screened-in back porch of the hill house, and watched the birds searching out the wet remnants of the feed I’d scattered in the driveway this morning. [...]

(“Something to do with a circle” is interesting, in that our motel at York Beach, where this photo was taken, is situated on a circular driveway in back of the beach hotel that fronts on the ocean. [...]

[...] Gus, the friendly old Shetland sheepdog who belonged to our neighbors across the street, came up to the storm door, looking for the handful of dry food I give him each morning when I scatter birdseed in the driveway. [...]

[...] The knocking woke me up, but I saw them pulling out of the driveway so let them go. [...]

[...] In the same way he encourages you to have the lawn or the driveway done.

[...] It was after dark, the road was slippery with snow; I had to back down the hill while Jane lighted the way with a flashlight, until I found a driveway. [...]