“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

[...] He did fear that you would become bitter if you did not succeed (as a painter), and he sometimes felt that you retreated to the studio away from him, as purposely your father retreated from your mother into the cellar or garage. [...]

[...] I’ve raked leaves, stacked wood in the garage, installed storm windows, and made sure our hill house is otherwise all set for cold weather.

[...] A moment later Fred came back into view from in back of the garage. [...]

[...] It was a ranch-style, cedar-sided dwelling that had just been painted a dark green — a conventional one-story affair with white shutters, a fireplace, a picture window, an attached double garage in back, and many trees and shrubs. [...]

[...] But I have a feeling that the front porch affair isn’t the end of our construction odyssey: Jane has a certain speculative look when she notes that we have but one car — she doesn’t drive — to occupy the large two-car garage attached to the rear of the house. What better idea than to convert half of the garage into a writing room, with sliding glass doors, and add a screened-in porch there also? [...]

[...] Since the old Ford—1955—was in the garage with gas tank trouble over the weekend, we were given a ride to Sayre and back from Elmira by the Crowders in their Cadillac. [...]

[...] It’s a one-story dark-green-painted dwelling with a big stone fireplace, and has a screened-in side porch and a one-car garage in back. The woods continuing on up the hill begin only 50 feet from the garage. [...]

Ed told me that his car was in a garage for repairs. [...]

[...] I couldn’t get my car out of the garage; the streets weren’t plowed, businesses remained closed. [...]

[...] As we milled about the side porch and garage area and began talking about 1730, Jim politely asked if he and the other three guests could see the inside of it. [...]

[...] At best the public service announcements introduce the doctor as mediator: You are supposed to take your body to a doctor as you take your car to a garage, to have its parts serviced. [...]

(Pause at 10:33.) The second house had no garage, and was not in as fashionable a neighborhood, but it had its own elegance. [...]

[...] In a big old garage with Jane, I was ready to drive the car away, but then seemed to look up at it on a hoist. [...]

Your father expressed his love in his garage. [...]

[...] When he recovered, he offered to drive us to the garage to pick up our car.

[...] Returning to the other side of the paper, we see that a road leads up to the garage attached to the drawing of the erected house.

[...] The bureau it came from is an old- fashioned one that had sat in the garage of “our” apartment house for some years. [...]

(See my notes on my experience of November 3, involving the car blocking our garage. [...]

[...] He could see the yard and garage clearly but the image of a grown-up man on a scooter up two stories from the ground was just too much — he snapped back to his body.

[...] When I went to work this morning Jane went out to the garage with me. [...]

[...] She seldom left the house; she could barely maneuver down the two steps into the garage off her writing room, and into our car. [...]