“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

([Rachel:] “Yes... a wheat field.”)

(Ruburt.) “I sense somebody beyond that (wheat field) coming from the village that we talked about earlier; and I sense that you do not want to know that they are there.”

(Ruburt:) “No. There’s only one figure out in the wheat field that she doesn’t want to face.”

(One week later, in class of January 21, Sue told of a recurring dream which she had for some years—a dream in which she had stood in a field of wheat or cornfield was afire and she feared for the safety of the village.)

[...] In parentheses: Ruburt thinks of old-fashioned Shredded Wheat cards, that were gray-blue in color.” Jane was six years old when her grandmother was killed by an automobile while going to a neighborhood store to buy Shredded Wheat. [...] To placate her, her grandmother gave in to Jane’s demands for Shredded Wheat, and left the house.

[...] (In parentheses: Ruburt thinks of old-fashioned Shredded Wheat cereal cards, that were gray-blue in color.) Connection with four columns. [...]

[...] (Pause.) There is some confusion regarding wheat products. I am not sure if it is white or brown wheat bread that has a tendency to bother you during this season. [...]

(On the farm her husband grew alfalfa and wheat, and tried tobacco and corn. [...]

Wheat fields for example, filled not only with the vitality of sun and growth but bristling with creativity that (in quotes) “destroyed” each part of itself in death, that was transformed instantaneously into a new spectacular form in which the creativity and destruction were always apparent, and yet one in which violence was necessarily turned into life.

[...] There may be an allergy to wheat... [...]

[...] And there was wheat and barley. [...]

[...] I made Jane a peanut butter sandwich, using whole wheat bread. [...]

[...] There may be an allergy to wheat—early in life—was also known to this one here in Spain—the country now called Spain—in 801 as an uncle—then a warrior-type personality—but again given to indulgence. [...]

[...] Seth mentioned that Jane’s own memories of the shredded-wheat incident should have told her what had happened. [...]

She couldn’t explain what she did, except to say that she ‘learned things.’ I asked further questions about her background and was told that her husband had grown alfalfa and wheat and tried tobacco and corn. [...]

[...] But yes, the people in the small villages did; and wheat and barley. [...]

[...] Minnie Finn was killed by a hit-and-run speeding motorist one icy winter day on her way to the corner store to buy the young girl some shredded wheat for supper—a tragedy that Marie never stopped blaming her daughter for. [...]