Saturday, March 1, 2025

Editor's Corner



By Mary E. Adair

March 2025

"Keep your face
always toward the sunshine,
and shadows will fall behind you."
— Walt Whitman


Although we ended our February in our area with an afternoon 4.8 Earthquake about 75 miles or so from our western desert town, the worst the month dealt to us was the below freezing weather for four consecutive days. Older homes, and I might add older citizens, are not built here for such weather and our water pipes and brittle bones take offense. But we also followed that with some mid 80s temperatures to soothe our tempers.


We are looking forward to more normal weather for March which slams us into Daylight Saving Time when our clocks spurt forward an hour. Interestingly, this is always done during the wee morning hours as if we are being spared such a shock.


Walt Perryman's poems are "All Alone with A Windmill," "Almost Daylight," and "What I Take for Granted." John I. Blair has two new poems for March: "Millipede" and "Ten O'Clock Train To Texas."


Bud Lemire's poems are "Rectify Any Wrong Doings," "Time Doesn't Stand Still," and "That Darn Keyboard!" Bruce Clifford's three poems are "Without You," "Purple Waters," and "Day To Shine."


New to our pages but not to our family, being the youngest grandchild of the late Leo C. Helmer, we welcome Christina Heisler with her poem "Flaming Cloud." We are again showing the informative article by Helmer to assist you in plans you may be making for Easter.


Marilyn Carnell's "Sifoddling Along" column discusses her new abode and some of the reasons for her decision. Thomas F. O'Neill included a moving picture of an American soldier taken in WWII as the basis of his column "Introspective." However, we are still publishing written material and a few pictures previously shown in our pages and no new photos. Our Webmaster Mike Craner who keeps us online has not chased down our photo uploading problem so far. Being snowed in for awhile didn't help his search.


Mattie Lennon's column "Irish Eyes" relays an interesting talk and demonstration he recently attended and extends an invitation for another such in the near future in his area. He also shares some info presented by a colleague about Saint Patrick. Pauline Evanosky's column "Woo Woo" explains her "new habit" and discusses why she's pleased.


Judith Kroll's column "On Trek" expounds on some personal beliefs and their impact. Melinda Cohenour updates further findings and upcoming decisions in the Gilgo case that has made investigative strides in new uses of DNA. "Cooking with Rod's Family" presents Melinda Cohenour's daughter Melissa as featured cook this issue.


Thank you, Mike, for keeping us shipshape and sailing along into another year. I shall continue to place our confidence in you as we have in the past.


See you in April!


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This issue appears in the ezine at www.pencilstubs.com and also in the blog www.pencilstubs.net with the capability of adding comments at the latter.



Armchair Genealogy

 


By Melinda Cohenour

Latest News On Trial Pending for Serial Killer Rex Andrew Heuermann

Rex Heuermann and his Defense counsel, Michael Brown, were back in court this week, February 25 2025, to support passage by Judge Mazzei of their latest Motions.


The hearing was relatively short and revolved around these key issues:
1. Motion to sever trial: The defense has moved the court to sever the cases for the murders of seven women to not one, but five separate trials: one for three of the women referred to as the Gilgo Four, and individual trials for the four other victims currently projected to be tried in one serial murder trial


Prosecutor, Ray Tierney, argued the State's case that the evidence pointing to Heuermann being the killer charged with all seven victims has undeniable proof of Heuermann being a serial killer. That in order to prove the allegation of serial murders, the State will present applicable evidentiary materials showing how Heuermann targeted specific victims, set about luring them into his trap, planned in advance how each would be tortured and killed, and carried out these murders using a planning document of his own creation.


Direct quote from ABC 7 in New York concerning the inadmissibility of severing the seven cases as follows:
The Suffolk County district attorney's office said severing the cases is "inappropriate as the victims are inextricably interwoven by geographic proximity, victimology, digital and physical evidence, forensic analysis, and defendant's own planning document" that allegedly contained detailed instructions for killing women, dismembering bodies and burying them. https://abc7ny.com/post/gilgo-beach-serial-killer-suspect-rex-heuermann-appears-court-judge-weighing-dna-evidence/15954067/


That to support applicability of each piece of evidence, the State will rely upon expert witnesses each of which will be possessed of knowledge specific to their scientific speciality. That to have these same expert witnesses schedule five separate trials would not only present those witnesses with a scheduling issue but would also be extremely costly to the State. That to be required to present the evidence in separate trials, references to similar killings and modus operandi would be excluded by law in trials focused on a single victim, placing an unfair disadvantage to prosecution. Further, that the whole of the evidentiary materials provides proof of similar methods used by the defendant in carrying out his serial murders.


Suffolk County District Attorney Ray Tierney, who is prosecuting the case, when asked about the prosecution's opposition to severing the cases, responded: "The theory of our case is, this defendant is a serial killer who meticulously and methodically hunted down and murdered seven women. That is our case. He did use the same methodology. He utilized a planning document in which he laid bare his intention to do this. And so, as such under the law, a lot of the evidence of one charge would be admissible in court as evidence of the separate charge. Specifically the DNA evidence, the phone evidence, some of the financial evidence, the searches he made, some of the mementoes he was alleged to have kept — all of these pertain" to all seven victims, he said.

SOURCE: https://patch.com/new-york/riverhead/accused-gilgo-killer-meticulously-methodically-hunted-women-da


Additionally, Assistant District Attorney Andrew Lee with the Suffolk County District Attorney's Office argued in two documents filed Tuesday that the cases should be tried at the same time rather than split into five trials requested by Heuermann's defense attorney.

SOURCE: https://www.ctpost.com/news/article/rex-heuermann-gilgo-beach-murders-norwich-20187202.php


2. Motion by defense to exclude nuclear DNA test results calling it "magic" and arguing the methodology has not been proven accurate.


According to the prosecutor Tierney, who argued for continued inclusion of the nuclear DNA test results:

“It’s prevented people from dying from disease, it’s detected diseases, it’s used in amniocentesis, it’s identified war dead, it’s identified remains of 9/11 people,” said Suffolk County District Attorney Ray Tierney. “This science has been around for many, many years and, if the defense wants to call it magic, that’s fine, the defense can call it whatever it likes. But we will determine that at the hearing, and we look forward to that hearing and, I can tell you, this is sound science.”

SOURCE: https://keyt.com/cnn-regional/2025/02/25/gilgo-beach-murder-suspect-rex-heuermann-back-in-court-for-hearing-on-dna-evidence-request-to-separate-trials/


However, it is your author's belief this type testing of DNA derived from hair samples with no root follicle will require a Frye Hearing since it has not to date been accepted in any case in New York state.


3. Change of venue motion previously filed by Defense counsel Michael Brown:
In a surprise complete reversal of his prior filing requesting a change of venue declaring Suffolk County to have a jury pool that has been inundated with negative news publications there could not exist a panel lacking preconceived beliefs as to his client's guilt.


At court, Defense counsel Michael Brown voluntarily removed his Change of Venue motion from the Court docket. Brown was quoted as saying:
“One of the reasons we did not file a change of venue motion is because we are looking forward to 12 people in Suffolk County, the residents in Suffolk County who are familiar with what goes on in Suffolk County,” Brown said.

“We are looking forward to having them sit in that courtroom and listen to the evidence,” he added. “Listen to the lack of evidence. Listen to the whole picture as opposed to just snippets that you may have heard.”

SOURCE: https://nypost.com/2025/02/25/us-news/accused-gilgo-beach-killer-rex-heuermanns-lawyer-drops-bombshell-that-theres-no-dna-in-alleged-basement-kill-room/

* * * * *


Justice Mazzei has ordered the parties back to court March 12 when, presumably, there will be a date set for a Frye hearing on the admissibility of the nuclear DNA testing methodology.


Mazzei has indicated frustration and a growing impatience with the slow progress of this case. He could establish a tighter time limit for completing exchange of evidentiary materials. It is highly unlikely in your author's opinion the Judge will actually set a date for the trial to begin.


The proceedings of the March 12 hearing will be reviewed and reported here. ~

* * * * *


In the meantime, I hope to have results back from Ancestry for our grandson Shaun. He was three years old when my son introduced Shaun. Rod and I found Shaun to be a bright and engaging child who stole our hearts. We ultimately moved for custody after learning disturbing information about his mother, which was obtained when he was eight years old. His biological father has been said to have fathered additional children and Shaun is hopeful he will find those siblings through DNA matches.


Hope you enjoy your own Armchair Genealogy research in the coming month.


Click on the author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.
This issue appears in the ezine at www.pencilstubs.com and also in the blog www.pencilstubs.net with the capability of adding comments at the latter.


Irish Eyes

 



By Mattie Lennon

The Forager and Saint Patrick

On Thursday 20th March I attended a meeting of Lucan Toastmasters which is reputed to be the best club in Ireland. The first speaker was a fairly new member Aisling Moore, with a speech titled The Forager.


When I saw the title of the speech I asked myself, “Am I a forager?” My question was prompted by the fact that I take items out of skips. But the opening words of Ms Moore’s speech convinced me that retrieving broken pedal-bins or lengths of two-by-one planed timber from refuse wouldn’t qualify me. What did she tell us?


"I am passionate about truly living life. I am a forager and I make products from what I gather. I have been doing that for several years. I started doing workshops last year and I am dedicated to helping people reconnect with nature and remember the healing power of the land. The earth provides medicine to nurture us, but we have forgotten its origins. We have lost the ability to identify herbs and understand how they support our bodies."


"In losing this knowledge, we have also lost our belief in nature’s medicine. The spirit of the herbs struggles to reach us because our minds are clouded with constant thought. True connection with nature happens when we become fully present. It is time to remember, to listen, and to heal with the wisdom of the land."


Each member of the audience was given a small cup of “Haw-Tea” and we were instructed how to “Listen to the Hawthorn”


The forager told me how as she was walking through fields, " . . . with a heavy heart. Each step carrying the weight of a memory. Sorrow pressing against my chest. Suddenly I felt something, a sound, faint as a whisper, it felt like a dream. My whole body shuddered. As I came closer to the bright red hawthorn berries, the messages became clearer. A voice spoke 'I can heal your heart.' The words moved through me, flowing into every part of my body. I stood beside the hawthorn tree. Staring at the twisted branches, its sharp thorns. I knew deep in my soul that this tree held wisdom. I felt it merge with me. It’s spirit connecting with my spirit. More and more messages followed, visions flooded my mind.


Showing me exactly what to do. The power held within the berries, leaves and flowers. I quickly gathered them offering my gratitude to the spirit of the hawthorn. As I did lightness spread through me my sorrow lifted. The hawthorn had spoken and I the forager had listened. It is time to remember, to listen, and to heal with the wisdom of the land, and to heal with the wisdom of the land."


If you happen to be visiting this green and misty island for the feast of our National Apostle and you are in the vicinity of Kildare this committed forager will be having a workshop on March 22nd in Celbridge and it would certainly be worth visiting. . If you are staying at home Aisling’s Instagram is Moore.aisling and her email address is, aislingdaybyday@gmail.com


Please go to your nearest Saint Patrick’s Day parade and for a few lesser known facts about the saint’s influence I’ll hand you over to Maggie Zackowitz.



How St. Patrick became the patron saint of Nigeria
By Maggie Zackowitz


As Americans prepare to observe St. Patrick's Day with pub crawls, parades, corned beef, and green clothing, beer and bagels, let's not forget about that country for which Patrick is a patron saint.


Irish bishops in Nigeria named St. Patrick, who is said to have died on March 17 in the year 461, as the country's patron in 1961, the same year Ireland opened its embassy in Lagos. The Irish actually have a long history in the country: Irish nationalist Roger Casement — executed in Dublin in 1916 for his role in the Irish rebels' Easter Rising — served as a British consular officer in Calabar, in southeastern Nigeria, during the 1890s. Casement's interest in and sympathy for Africans under colonial rule was unusual for a European in the Victorian era, and likely helped shape his views on social justice.


In the early 1920s, Irish priests of the Order of the Holy Ghost established their mission in southern Nigeria. Later St. Patrick's Society for Foreign Missions, dedicated on March 17, 1932, became one of many Catholic groups in Nigeria providing education both religious and secular.


These days Catholics in the country number some 20 million, and Nigerian seminaries send their ordinates all over the world to serve as priests. In fact, since numbers of clergy in Ireland have long been in decline, Nigerian priests have recently been assigned to churches there.


Though St. Patrick's Day is not an official public holiday in Nigeria, plenty of Guinness stout will be consumed anyway. It's the second most popular beer in the country, brewed with sorghum or maize instead of the European recipe's barley, and packs 7.5 percent alcohol content.


And "Irish diplomats of course celebrate St. Patrick's Day," says Eoghan McSwiney, deputy head of mission at the Embassy of Ireland in Abuja. "The Embassy organizes high-profile St. Patrick's Day celebrations in the capital Abuja, and in Lagos, as well in Accra, Ghana. We are joined by friends and colleagues from the diplomatic corps and from the highest levels of the Nigerian public and private sector."


There is one big difference from American St. Patrick's Day celebrations, though, and it's not green bagels. In Nigeria, says McSwiney, "We don't organize a parade."


See you in April.


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Cooking with Rod's Family

 

By Melinda Cohenour



My daughter Melissa makes THE most delicious pasta dish using her specially seasoned chicken. I have yet to find anyone who has tasted this dish who did not hanker for MORE.


Note: Delicious alone but Garlic bread or bread sticks are a nice accompaniment. A basic salad with your favorite dressing will please. We like to eat with iced tea or even a fruited lemonade.


Bon appetit~!

Melissa's Chicken Spaghetti


Ingredients:


Meat mixture:

    * 4 to 5 lbs. Boneless skinless chicken breasts
          * Mrs. Dash salt free original seasoning sprinkled evenly on all surfaces of chicken pieces
      * 2 tsp. Garlic powder
      * 2 tsp. Onion powder
      * 2 tsp. Cumin
      * 2 tsp. Dried ground Cilantro


    Sauce mixture:

      * 2 (10 oz.) Cans Spicy Rotel
      * 2 (14.5 oz.) cans Cream of Chicken soup
      * 2 (14.5 oz.) cans Cream of Celery soup
      * 2 cans Campbell Cheddar soup


    Pasta:

      * 1 lb. Pasta shells
      OR
      * 1 lb Spaghetti pasta
      OR
      * 1 lb. Angel Hair pasta
      OR
      * 1 lb. Penne pasta
      OR
      * 1 lb. Pasta of your choice. ( We prefer the pasta shells or Angel Hair)


    Instructions:

      1. Prepare the meat mixture and sauce according to below: Baked/sauteed/boiled chicken
      However you want to cook your chicken & season with pink Himalayan salt just a tad or your salt free seasoning garlic powder onion powder cumin and cilantro.
      2. You'll need two cans of Rotel spicy, cream of chicken cream of celery and cheddar soup.
      3. Mix all together with the chicken and this is your meat mixture and sauce.
      4. Use your pasta of choice you can use angel hair you can use spaghetti you could even use penne pasta if you want. Prepare using directions on pasta.
      5. You might mix together or you can lay your bed of pasta first and then on top put your creamy cilantro & cheese chicken mixture.



    Here is your chicken spaghetti enjoy!!


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    Woo Woo

     


    By Pauline Evanosky

    Jump Up and Down and Make Some Noise

    It’s been an upheaval of sorts. When you begin a new habit, however small and seemingly insignificant it is, it will make a larger change in your life. It is a snowball effect. As a snowball rolls down a hill, it picks up more and more snow with each revolution. So, what started out as a tiny little snowball ended up as the base for a snowman.


    What is my new habit?


    I’ll tell you. It is after every hour that I am working, which for me is writing; I will get up out of my chair and hoot. I make some noise, I move around. I punch my fists in the air. I shake myself out. I breathe deeply. It’s like a mini-session at the gym. It’s like taking a run around the block.


    It shakes out the cobwebs.


    I’m just now trying it out. The idea of interrupting my forward momentum is unusual for me. Hence, getting used to this new, perhaps unorthodox, habit is the disruption. I am focusing more of my attention on the movement, I stop myself perhaps half an hour into my work to see, “Is it time yet?”


    There are also lots of places on YouTube where you can find timed sessions with instrumental music. Some are an hour, others are longer. It is easy for me to slip into the headspace I like to go to when I am writing. In fact, right now, I am writing this article to an hour-long writers Zoom meeting I go to once a week. Nobody talks. We just write. For an hour.


    To that end, today, I will hang my kitchen timer around my neck and set it to that golden hour. I need not worry if the bus is coming, is it time yet? I can move into the headspace where all my characters live.


    Right now, they are waiting, allowing me to speak what is on my mind. I’m not psychotic. I’m a psychic, and I see things.


    Right now, one of the gentlemen in spirit has touched his finger alongside his nose, just standing looking at me. Like Santa Claus is supposed to have done, now, he is smiling and has opened his arms to me. It is a comfort over and over again to have my Folk in Spirit. Many times, I don’t know who they are. They are friendly. They are welcoming. And they will help me time and again to center, to focus, and to tell my tales, or sometimes their tales.


    So, this new habit? How did I learn of it? I watched a presentation by Tony Robbins. If you don’t know who he is, he is a self-help person who, in the 48 years he’s been working at helping others to achieve their goals and dreams, has become quite a famous person. Look him up on the internet. If you have access to YouTube, he recorded our four-day, three-hour-a-day virtual Time to Rise Summit. If you even just listen to the first day, you will learn at least one thing to help you move closer to your goals.


    Sometimes, we just need to be in the presence of that one person who can help us with one or two words to move past that moment where we seem to be stuck. Of course, there were many other tips and tricks he told us about, but that one thing, to help me as a writer, to loosen up my writing muscles, was worth it.


    The event was free. Evidently, Tony has been doing these virtual Time to Rise free events for the last four years, since Covid disrupted our lives, our businesses, and our dreams. Every January, at the end of the month remember and look for the places to sign up. As I said before, there is no cost to you. There were 195 countries represented at our event and 1.4 million people. San Antonio, Texas has a population of that much. That’s a lot of people.


    Tony’s personal story is also something to consider. At the age of 17 he fled from his mother who was trying to attack him with a kitchen knife. He was homeless and that first night slept on a hill. After that he slept in his car. With beginnings like that he was able to emulate the successful people he met, to build his confidence, to eventually help famous people along with us not so famous people to achieve our own dreams.


    The idea is, if he can do it, from hideous beginnings, so can we.


    My job, as I see it, is to help people too. The dream I had and have of being a writer has come a long way from when I was eight years old. The dream I had of having a personal relationship with Spirit has come far. The dream I had of the courage it would take to buck all of the mis-guided advice I got from people growing up is something I wake up with every day and ask myself, “What can I do today?”


    Thank you for reading. You can find me on the internet at TalkingToSpirit.com, at Substack.com and at Medium.com.
    Pauline Evanosky


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    Introspective

     



    By Thomas F. O'Neill

     

    This is a historical photo of an American soldier during WWII.


    He had just killed a Japanese soldier on the island of Iwo Jima in 1945. The American soldier went through the dead soldier's pockets and found photos of the dead man's family.


    The American soldier then realized that the man he killed was a human being, not just an enemy combatant; at that realization, he began to cry.


    Most war propaganda lies, and hatred comes from those who have never stepped foot on a battlefield. That day, the American soldier had wounded a part of his humanity, which that photo reveals to us.


    Always with love
    Thomas F O'Neill

      Email: introspective7@hotmail.com
      WeChat - Thomas_F_ONeill
      Phone: (410) 925-9334
      Skype: thomas_f_oneill
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      Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/thomas-f-o-neill-6226b018/
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    Sifoddling Along

     


    By Marilyn Carnell

    On February 12, 2025, I began a new chapter in my life. I moved into a senior living apartment in Minnetonka, Minnesota. After almost two years on waiting lists, an ideal apartment became available. I didn’t want to miss the opportunity that suddenly presented itself, so I made a quick decision to move within 30 days. Then I developed an epic case of flu that knocked me back for about ten of those days. Nevertheless, the move was accomplished with the help of a team of people.


    Like the flu bug, the weather did not cooperate, we had a cold “snap” the first week I was here. “Snap” is a good example of Minnesota minimalism. It means a lengthy period of life-threatening subzero weather. Anyone with the slightest excuse stays indoors and sips coffee. My movers did not have that option, so they bravely hauled my possessions to my new home.


    Today, I am sitting at my desk looking out on a new and different snowy landscape in suburban Minnesota. At my house, I looked out on a hiking/biking trail and the near constant motion of runners, bikers and dog walkers. This view is from the treetops (I am on the 4th floor).


    Movement is supplied by squirrels, birds, rabbits and occasional deer. The sun shines brightly through the windows of my office. I find myself floating in a transition period of postponed appointments, clinging to memories of my past and the warm greetings of my new neighbors. This leads me to reminisce about past homes.


    The first eighteen years of my life were firmly anchored in my parent’s small bungalow in Pineville, a village in the center of McDonald County, the southwestern most county of Missouri. Our home was part of a two-block addition to the town created in the 1920’s. Pineville was platted in 1847 and both sides of my family have lived there since shortly after the Civil War. Despite a long history, time had largely stood still in that part of the Missouri Ozarks. We got indoor plumbing in 1940 – the year I was born. I suspect it was not a coincidence. There were no street addresses, everyone knew where the Carnells lived, because we were related to most of them. We had a party line phone. I remember our signal was “two longs and a short”. When I lived there again in the late 1970’s I still had a party line, but progress had produced a big black dial phone instead of one hanging on the wall.


    Despite a stable beginning, my life changed considerably after that. I pursued an education and charted a career path. Thus, moving became the norm. I have counted more than thirty different addresses I called home in the intervening sixty-six years, but with time the moves became less frequent.


    Once when I have gone through a rough patch, my brother called me with some advice: “Come on home honey” he said. “they can’t whip us all.” We both knew that our family was the rock that we could count on and that concept continues today. I still have family members who will offer help, support and encouragement when needed. I learned that again last week when I moved once again.


    My husband, Al and I lived on Big Sugar Creek for eighteen years. Once again, I was living near Pineville and was convinced that I would be there until I left feet first.


    Fate had other plans. A “five-hundred-year flood” turned the normally benign stream into a raging beast that burst into our home uninvited. My husband and I were rescued by a neighbor who pushed a canoe through the muddy roiling water to reach us. We clung to it while slogging though a chest deep current to safety. I had time only to grab a purse that held our meds and credit cards. The story of the flood and its aftermath is too long to tell here, but I will write about it in more detail another time.


    Even though I now live in a new place, McDonald County will always be “home” to me – the place I returned to time after time. The place where my ashes will go in my final journey.


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    On Trek

     


    By Judith Kroll

    Everyone’s Life is A Story

    The second we are born we start our journey into the world. We are labeled Male or Female. Fingerprinted, foot-printed, washed, and finally wrapped in a soft blanket with a hat to match.


    Being claustrophobic, stretching would seem delicious!


    Our life in this world is ours for the taking.


    When we choose to come to earth, with our life in the flesh, we all make our own life map. That is why many decide to be good or bad here. We don’t all come to have the same experiences. Each trip I am sure is different.


    I had a realistic dream one night. You know Universal Studios, there is a TV show in each building, and each show is made in that same building. What I was shown, is people can come to earth and experience the time of the civil war, or the time of the dinosaurs, etc. It depends on which “building” they choose to experience. There is no time in space.


    If we played the piano in one life, but decided to become a fireman in the next life, (if we choose to come back), then we might not even look at a piano., Or there may not be a piano if we chose the stone age.


    When we come to earth, we are like players in a video game. We experience different things, always learning, always growing.


    There is no death. Our bodies die and we transform back to spirit. Then we remember everything. Again. If we remembered everything, while we were here on earth, what would be the point?


    Enjoy the love of the planet, it has so much to offer: people, animals, amazing scenery, and us.


    What an honor.


    Love Judith, 1/27/24


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    All Alone with A Windmill

     

    By Walt Perryman

    Have you ever been alone with a working windmill,
    Then the wind stops, and everything is quiet and still.

    Sometimes the wind will blow just enough to tease,
    And the blades will turn slowly with the slightest breeze.

    The noises of a working windmill can comfort your mind,
    That’s when, if you’re looking for God, he is easy to find.

    The windmill pumps a little water with each crank,
    And You can talk to God as he gives you a cool drank.

    Some people have heard this and some never will,
    The tranquilizing sound of God at a lonely windmill.

    ©2/23/2025 Walt Perryman


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    Ten O'clock Train To Texas

     

    By John I. Blair

    It’s ten o’clock in Wichita in Kansas.
    My brother and myself
    Are tucked snugly in our beds;
    On radio our “Dutch Uncle”
    Shares good advice with us
    About finances.

    Which puzzles me a bit because
    I don’t know what “finances” are.

    And then across the darkened space
    Between us and the railroad tracks
    A block or two away a train
    Calls out a ghostly whistle
    As the nightly run makes danger
    For the traffic up on Harry Street.

    We think it’s ten o’clock
    Because the evening “Texan”
    Always ran on schedule.
    Although we’ve never seen
    This place named “Texas”
    I wonder what adventures
    Might befall me should I ever go.

    Little did I know in 1945
    That one day I’d take my chances
    Down in Dallas,
    Be husband to a wife,
    Father to a son,
    Neighbor to a host of friends,
    Forever change my life.

    The Ten O’Clock to Texas
    Had more meaning than I dreamed
    Those cozy nights
    Beneath my blankets
    There in Wichita.

    ® 2025 John I. Blair, 1/31/20


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    That Darn Keyboard!

     

    By Bud Lemire

    The T isn't moving, it's being such a jerk
    And I can't even, get the F to work
    I tried the N, but now the A is stuck
    With this keyboard, I'm not having any luck

    Now the O, has flipped its lid
    I'm not exactly sure, what I just did
    I press the F1, F2, and F3
    I know, I should just let it be

    The RETURN key, just flipped off
    I'm so frustrated, I start to scoff
    It's not easy, to type anything on here
    My keyboard is falling apart, I fear

    Now the SPACE bar, just spaced out
    I just want to scream, okay, I will shout
    Now, that made me feel a little better
    Now let me try again, checking every letter

    Now, I'm having problems with the L
    I'm also having issues, with the H as well
    Let me check out a few more keys, I'll press the U
    Nope! That darn keyboard, I just don't know what to do

    ©Feb 22, 2025 Bud Lemire

                            Author Note:

    Sometimes you feel this way when the keys on your
    keyboard start to fall apart. It's frustrating when
    you want to type something and you can't get the
    right keys to type the letter you want.


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    Without You

    By Bruce Clifford

    What’s the point of turning inside out?
    What’s the point of turning upside down?
    Cos in the end I only want to shout.
    What’s the point when I must do without?

    Without you the distance seems to grow.
    Without you is not being able to let go.
    Let me know how I could do without.
    Without you is what life’s been all about.

    I would be remiss if I turned and walked away.
    I could never resist all the words I’ve had to say.

    Without you the void becomes so clear.
    Without you the pain could never disappear.
    Cos in the end I only want to shout.
    Without you I live with so many doubts.

    What’s the point of drifting upside down?
    What’s the point of living under ground?
    As time goes by, I only want to scream.
    What’s the point of living in this dream?

    I would be remiss if I turned and walked away.
    I could never resist all the words I’ve had to say.

    Without you the distance seems to grow.
    Without you is not being able to let go.
    Let me know how I could do without.
    Without you is what life’s been all about.

    © 2/3/2025 Bruce Clifford


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    What I Take for Granted

     

    By Walt Perryman

    I have taken many things for granted it appears,
    But I feel scared and helpless when one disappears.

    I once watched Sunrises and Sunsets just for fun,
    But now days, I thank God for each and everyone.

    If I never knew what love was, how can I love,
    Until I learned that true love comes from above.

    As I get older there is less and less that I can do,
    And the things that I still can, I need Gods help too.

    God is helping me to replace the bad with the good,
    And only God and I know when I do the things, I should!

    I’ll have all kinds of problems until my last day,
    But I believe the pain will be less if I live God’s way.

    ©2/24/2025 Walt Perryman


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    Flaming Cloud

     

    By Christina Heisler

    She sat waiting by the glowing fire
    While I, the resident child,
    Swirling and swishing in my new skirt
    Sashayed around, admiring its floof and flare.

    The mantle’s cool, white marble contrasted
    With the smoking orange pyre it contained
    And as I skirted around Grandmamma’s seat
    I felt its scorching hand clap my face.
    Fear and flames danced in me
    My mind’s eye saw my skirt as an inferno
    My hair blazing with flames—then

    A different hand pulled me away.
    Her hand matched in warmth and delicacy
    A flickering candle flame
    That guided me from my fears
    and led me through the furnace of thoughts
    to her more welcoming warmth

    Her lap was my pillow as I sat
    On the cold, faux wood floor.
    There we sat,
    and sat,
    and sat.
    Her clothes were feathery wisps of cirrus
    Her hair, the silver cumulus of morning,
    Draped with golds and reds.
    But her face is the fickle cloud;
    First this, then that, then nothing
    Changing every time I look back
    To when we shared that simple peace
    And the only things I could sense were
    The chill where my legs touched the floor
    and Shalimar mingling with upholstery.

    © Circa 2024 Christina Heisler


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    Time Doesn't Stand Still

     

    By Bud Lemire

    Time doesn't stand still, because we age
    As it moves ahead, each life's chapter we engage
    Sometimes I'm taken back, into a memory in a song
    Thinking I'm back there, yet I knew I wasn't all along

    I see a singer back then, that I use to listen to
    Today he's old and gray, and I think “what happened to you?”
    I look in the mirror, and think “who is that old man?”
    Reality bites, but it's the way of each life span

    Sometimes I think, I've lived a lifetime of many years
    Each chapter that I lived, brought happiness and tears
    From it all, I'm happy for who I became
    I'm still me, and yet I'm not the same

    Others do it too, they think I'm the boy I use to be
    Never realizing, they're thinking of the younger me
    I'm not the only one, who gets lost in a memory
    Sometimes we stay there, and it's hard to break free

    Even though time doesn't stand still, this I do know
    Through the journey from the past to the future, I grow
    You age and change, as time moves ahead
    Doing your best to go, wherever you are led

    ©Feb 15, 2025 Bud Lemire

                           Author Note:

    As humans, the years and time makes us older.
    Through these changes, we learn and grow
    and changes happen within ourselves.
    Nothing ever stays the same.


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    Purple Waters

    By Bruce Clifford

    I yearn to swim in purple waters.
    The time we spent trapped in unforgiving times.
    I learned to laugh in purple waters.
    Making sense of the magic within your eyes.

    I’ve learned to dive towards the inner soul.
    My thoughts collide with memories I’ve never known.
    Days turn into moments of a fleeting thought.
    Making sense of all the visions we once sought.

    I yearn to fly in a mysterious sunrise.
    The days we spent were the moments of fate.
    I learned to cry in a massive divide.
    Making sense of this kaleidoscope .
    Making sense of our dreams of hope.

    I yearn to swim in purple waters.
    The time we spent trapped in unforgiving times.
    I learned to laugh in purple waters.
    Making sense of the magic within your eyes.

    Purple waters within us.
    Purple waters.

    I dream of a time in purple waters.
    I laugh and I cry of purple waters.
    We tried our best only to discover the curve.
    Purple waters and all we thought we deserved.

    ©2/7/2025 Bruce Clifford


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    Almost Daylight

     

    By Walt Perryman

    Good morning, everyone, it is almost daylight,
    Maybe my poem will help you to start it right.

    Sometimes I feel happy and sometimes not,
    However, I do feel happier when I pray a lot.

    Sure, I have good and bad days, that may be,
    But bad days are better when God’s with me.

    I pray that all of you will have a God loving day,
    Good or bad, be sure to thank Him, either way.

    ©2/25/2025 Walt Perryman


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    Millipede

     

    By John I. Blair

    While meditating half asleep
    In a throne room tiled and bare
    I peeped toward my feet below,

    Saw a tiny multi-legged beast
    Not more than an inch in length
    Creeping past my toe

    And decided I would watch it
    On its pathway to wherever
    It might go.

    Moving slow on multi-legs
    Looking like ten dozen pegs
    It wandered from one crevice to another

    Examining the filthy floor
    Between it and the distant door
    For food to fill its microscopic craw.

    But then the hush that dominated
    Was shattered when I flushed –
    And the bug was there no more.

    Copyright 2025 John I. Blair


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    Rectify Any Wrong Doings

     

    By Bud Lemire

    In your life, have you hurt someone?
    Said something nasty, or something else was done
    When it happened, how did it make you feel?
    I bet it wasn't good, it probably felt unreal

    There's consequences, to everything you do and say
    On the journey of your soul, you find out along the way
    You've heard of a ripple in time, well it's true
    You need to think before you act, in everything you do

    We've all done it, sometimes not realizing the full impact
    Sometimes it was us who was hurt, as a matter of fact
    Whatever the case, the damage was done
    It can't be taken back, and it wasn't any fun

    In your life, you're often taken back to that time and place
    It hurts inside, whenever you think of their face
    It hurts all the way down to your soul
    It's like that incident, left a burning hole

    It's because, the soul is always affected by what we say and do
    If it's not rectified in this lifetime, it crosses over with you
    Believe me, it's a lot harder to rectify when you're over there
    When a spirit comes around you, and you are not aware

    Clear it up here on earth, while you still can, mend the fence
    Take responsibility for your actions, use common sense
    Take the blame for being wrong, and apologize
    Heal the pain, is what the spirits advise

    ©Feb 15, 2025 Bud Lemire

                           Author Note:

    Life is too short to be going through so much
    pain over some misunderstanding and words
    that were said out of anger or emotional
    haywire. Apologize and free your soul
    from that burning, and it will set you free.


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    Day to Shine

    By Bruce Clifford

    Today is my day to shine.
    Lost in the thoughts of the rhythms.
    A nine-legged spider on a banana tree.
    One of life’s many mysteries.

    Today is my day to shine.
    Panic within my point of view.
    Freedom fights from within our dreams.
    Sparks in the shadow of fantasy.

    Today is my day to shine.
    Immersed in the sounds and the rhythms.
    A polar bear at the tropical sea.
    On of life’s many mysteries.

    Today is my day to shine.
    Day to shine.

    Today is my day to shine.
    Lost in the deep thoughts of wonder.
    Visons capture this relevancy.
    The way things are supposed to be.

    Today is my day to shine.
    Lost in the thoughts of the rhythms.
    A nine-legged spider on a banana tree.
    One of life’s many mysteries.

    Today is my day to shine.
    Quiet in the shadows and colors.
    A purple coconut by the fallen trees.
    One of our planets many mysteries.

    Drunk as a skunk outside the door.
    I don’t remember hitting the floor.
    The panic in my point of view.
    Broken on a silent platitude.

    Today is my day to shine.
    Today is my day to shine.

    ©2/10/2025 Bruce Clifford


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    Saturday, February 1, 2025

    Editor's Corner

     

    By Mary E. Adair

    February 2025

    "While it is February one can taste the full joys of anticipation.
    Spring stands at the gate with her finger on the latch."
    –Patience Strong


    We have enjoyed working on this issue which like February itself, is a bit abbreviated. That doesn't mean less interesting, only more compact - like distilling liquid delivers the true essence. And this month begins Volume 28 online.


    We needed a calming period after the weather, in a capricious mood, skipped past our desert area and confounded our Texas Gulf areas along with a few other southern states that hadn't had snow in nearly 30 years (if ever) and piled eight inches, more or less, upon them. More convenient in a way as it had less mileage to cover as it melted and drained toward the coastlines. We had frigid dry below-freezing temps without precipitation. Now February has plans to treat us to the high 70s in its first week. Diversity has its proof in such circumstances.


    Check out "Mike's Place" the column by Mike Craner, who makes a discerning but gentle spokesperson for many older citizens. Being a father of a few of the younger generation offers unique insight.


    Marilyn Carnell's "Sifoddling Along" column, surprised this editor, but she explains it. Thomas F. O'Neill uses his former experiences while teaching school in China to form his current observations shared in his column "Introspective."


    Mattie Lennon's column "Irish Eyes" sounds like it will be frightening from his title, but all is well. Pauline Evanosky's column "Woo Woo" explains that her conversations with the deceased are most often begun by them. Judith Kroll's column "On Trek" addresses decisions chosen when necessary to controlling your life.


    "Armchair Genealogy" by columnist Melinda Cohenour has an update on the further findings and upcoming decision in the Gilgo case that has made investigative strides in new uses of DNA. "Cooking with Rod's Family" presents his and Melinda Cohenour's Granddaughter-in-Love Prisca with her "White Chicken Chili" recipe this issue.


    John I. Blair's new poem this month, "Spider" is so descriptive one feels they are calmly viewing it with him. One of his poems composed in 2003, "Friendship" appears as an encore. Walt Perryman's poems are "Watching TV or Not!!!", "At Least Try," "Just Rambling This January Morning," and "There is More to Talking than Words." Bud Lemire's poems are "Don't Need Money And Power," "Why Change Anything?" and "Mary, A Good Friend." Bruce Clifford's two poems for us are "Sleepy Old Town" and "We've Always Wanted More." Yours truly has a new poem to share titled "Phases."


    As always we continue to rely on our co-founder and webmaster Mike Craner as he is the one we trust for our status quo. Thank you, Mike, for all you accomplish. I shall continue to place our confidence in you as we have in the past.


    See you in March!


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    Mike's Place

     

    By Michael L. Craner

    Yep.


    We of the older generations that you of the younger generations that incorrectly label anyone born in the last century as "boomers" can be a bit surly, to your eyes even be backwards thinking, rigid, and disdainful of you.


    That's fair.


    We largely felt the same of those before us and we were also rude, crude, and uncaring at times. For the most part we grew out of it and came to understand what our parents and grandparents meant and came to respect that. Most of you will too in time, which is why most of us don't complain about you nearly as much as we'd like to.


    When most of your Hollywood and music heroes have passed on, and you've buried a few friends and maybe even raised a child or two, you'll understand. You still may not agree with us, at least in some things... but you'll come to understand as we have... that we're all just trying to do the best we can.


    Be kind, rewind.


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    Armchair Genealogy

     

    By Melinda Cohenour

    FUTURE RESEARCH PLANNED

    Our household has been affected by the flu. School districts closed or, where staff has not been decimated by flu, will offer remote schooling.

    Updates on the Gilgo Beach Serial Murderer

    Court date held January 19. Subjects under discussion and consideration were a Defense motion to sever the multiple murder cases brought against Rex Andrew Heuermann; and an expected challenge to the new DNA tests utilized to connect the victims' remains to Heuermann. This is referred to as a Frye challenge. Every new type DNA or other scientific forensic test is subject to this challenge.


    New DNA testing submitted for our step grandson.
    Test has just been received per notice from Ancestry. Expected six week wait to begin receiving results.

    This should be interesting. Shaun's mother was married to my son John when Shaun was just a toddler. I have been in contact with Shaun's bio dad's sister. She informed me several of her siblings have tested as well.


    More next month as your author recovers from the flu and results are received.


    See you here next month. (Cough cough cough, sniffle, sniffle. )


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    Introspective

     


    By Thomas F. O'Neill

    I like writing about China because I have lived there for approximately 14 years, and it still appears China is ushering in an era of emerging technologies. I say this because a company in China (WinSun) uses giant 3D printers to make full-size, detached, single-story homes.

    This 3D printing technology is a small evolutionary step from spraying toner on paper to putting down layers of something more substantial (such as plastic resin) until the layers add up to an object. And yet, by enabling a machine to produce objects of any shape on the spot and as needed, 3-D printing is ushering in a new era.

    The Chinese private firm WinSun boasts they can produce 10 full-sized homes in 24 hours. They have been using four giant 3D printers to spray a mixture of cement and construction waste to build the walls and floors, layer by layer, quickly and more efficiently than any typical manual laborer. The homes can also be produced for under $5,000 due to the printing process.

    However, this new technology does have its critics, and they fear that as it advances. The construction industries relying solely on manual laborers to complete their construction contracts may be adversely affected.

    For instance, WinSun, as I mentioned, boasts that it can print buildings using any digital design its customers bring. The buildings can be manufactured fast and much more cheaply than manual laborers can produce. Soon, skyscrapers may be built using the same process, and as this technology becomes more readily available, many construction workers may find themselves out of jobs.

    The 3D printing methods are also being used in much more creative ways. In America, for instance, a company used the printing process for a handgun. Other manufacturers and designers have used 3D printers to make jewelry, furniture, specialized machine tools, and industrial components.

    It has been said that the Chinese government's interventions have been pro-producers at every turn, favoring the growth of their country’s manufacturers over its consumers' purchasing power and living standards. But as 3D printing advances and products become cheaper to produce the consumers in China will greatly benefit from the cheaply manufactured goods. They certainly won’t be losers in the new era; China will always have its domestic market, and its domestic market is huge.

    Not all products lend themselves to 3-D printing, though, so the Chinese will not have to immediately give up on being the mass-manufacturing powerhouse of the world. But eventually, as 3D printing takes hold globally, the factories that have made China the workshop of the world will lose much of their force. Goods will be infinitely more customized because altering them won’t require retooling, only tweaking the instructions in the software. Creativity in meeting individuals’ needs will come to the fore as well.

    This will force many Chinese manufacturers to focus more on their localized consumers and make products specifically to fulfill individualized consumer needs. As applications of the technology expand and prices drop, goods will be manufactured at or close to their point of purchase or consumption. This will have wide-ranging effects throughout the world.

    The overall impact 3D printing will have on the future of manufacturing in China and abroad will undoubtedly be revealed very soon.

    Always with love
    Thomas F O'Neill

      Email: introspective7@hotmail.com
      WeChat - Thomas_F_ONeill
      Phone: (410) 925-9334
      Skype: thomas_f_oneill
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    Cooking with Rod's Family

     


    By Melinda Cohenour


    Prisca Bradshaw is my Granddaughter-in-Love. She's been family almost 20 years now. I felt like God sent her to us the first time she walked into view.

    She has gifted us with two fabulous great-grandsons, Tristan and Christian. Precious boys about 12 years apart. They are strongly connected. Christian really looks up to his big brother and Tristan adores his baby brother.

    When Prisca first came into our family she didn't really know how to cook. After enjoying various dishes originated by Pop or myself, she approached us with a special arrangement. We were working long hours at that time, she was already helping keep our home clean and tidy as well as being a loving caretaker and companion to my Mother who was already pretty advanced with Alzheimer's. She suggested she be our chief cook and bottle washer BUT WOULD NEED TRAINING if we were willing. We absolutely were agreeable.

    She developed wonderful cooking skills. This is one of her delicious dishes.
    Bon appetit ~!

    Prisca's White Chicken Chili

    Ingredients:

      1. Chicken breast (3lb) (Chop chicken breast, place in broiling pan, cook in oven until tender) While it cooks, in large pot add:
      2. Chicken bone broth (2 large cartons )
      3. Cilantro (2 bunches chop one set aside one)
      4. Mexicorn ( 1 can drained)
      5. Rotel tomatoes ( 1 can )
      6. Diced Tomatoes with Basil ( 1 can drained)
      7. Large purple Onion( chop, yellow or white onion pairs nicely as well)
      8. Cannellini beans (6 cans drain half of the cans)
      9. Great northern beans (6 cans drain half)
      10. White Chicken seasoning ( 3 packages McCormick is the best)
      11. Salt (to taste)
      12. Pepper (taste)
      13. Dash Worcestershire sauce to add in large pot with the oven cooked, chopped chicken
      14. Sharp cheddar cheese ( shredded for the top with cut cilantro as garnish)
      15. Tortilla chips ( for dipping and crunch)

    Instructions:

      Chop chicken breast place in broiling pan cook in oven until tender, place in large pot with other ingredients, for maximum flavoring use pan drippings heat to a low boil, reduce to low and let stew for about 30-45 minutes
      My family enjoys the cheese, cilantro and sliced jalapeños on ours but you can add other toppings as well or just enjoy as is.


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    Irish Eyes


    By Mattie Lennon

    On Duty And “It’s About Life, Death And A Packet Of Digestives.”

    I did a small bit of amateur acting many decades ago but I don’t have any talents required by a thespian . . . except, I have the ability to belch to order. Why am I telling you this? Well, Hollywood didn’t call or even Dunlavin. But when Wiggleywoo film company was starting production on its first animated feature film, Tea with the Dead, the director, animator, designer and script-writer, Gary Gill tracked me down and asked me to do the voice of one of the characters; not because I have a rough, regional accent but because one of the characters, as written by Gary, is required to belch. In the film Frank Finnegan is a Funeral director/embalmer in the village of Ballyconneely, Connemara but his practice is not run of the mill. No. After he has disinfected, embalmed, washed and dressed the dead he has another unusual mission. He makes them a cup of tea and then brings them back to life. They talk and laugh over tea and biscuits, and basically tell their life story before Frank coffins them and sends them on their way. There are some interesting and amusing incidents before they reach the cemetery.


    This film is a spin-off of a short award-winning film of the same name that the company made in 2014. It was broadcast on TG4 and won best animation at festivals in Raindance and Rhode Island and was screened at festivals around the world.


    Tea with the Dead is essentially Irish but its characters, its storytelling, its location and its language has a universal theme. Gary told me, “The short hit a chord with our audiences all over the world, people cried, people laughed and people loved it. “


    The ‘corpses” that Frank speaks to in the feature film all have sad stories but there is an uplifting joyous ending. When the multi-talented Gary was asked by an interviewer what this film is all about his reply was a masterclass in brevity, “It’s about life, death and a packet of digestives.” In fact it is a charming story that takes the viewer through the five stages of grief with the main character Frank Finnegan, voiced by Colm Meaney, “interviewing” the dead characters.


    Watch out for Tea with the Dead. It is quintessentially an Irish film but its characters, its storytelling, its location and its language has a universal theme of grief and love. And you may pick up a trick or too on how to interview a corpse.

    * * * * *

    ON DUTY.


    There has been no scarcity of literary figures in An Garda Siocháná, from various ranks. Muiris O’ Suilleabhain, Dick Farrelly, Tony Guiran and John Duggan to mention but a few. However, On Duty is the first memoir by a retired Assistant Commissioner. This work is basically the life story of John O’ Driscoll, Retired Assistant Commissioner.


    It is a very well-written account of this dynamic man’s rise in the ranks from his first day in Templemore Training College on 30th June 1981 to his retirement as an Assistant Commissioner on 28th June 2022.


    John O’ Driscoll brings the reader through his days on the beat, gravel crunching, and making inroads into a solution to the heroin epidemic in Dublin’s inner when stationed in Store Street Station to standing, on 15th May 2022, attired in the uniform of Assistant Commissioner, An Garda Siocháná, on the National Mall in Washington DC, preparing to mark the lives and deaths of those who had died on Duty. From the day he joined he saw room for reform and without naming “the heavy-gang” he made it clear that a change in the rules of interrogation was necessary. He was quick to notice that at the time he joined most convictions were the result of confessions.


    From being at the wrong end of a sawn-off shotgun and using an unorthodox method the recover a stolen Walkie-Talkie an account of his career is given in minute detail.


    He began the Assistant Commissioner role during the deadly gang feud between rival drug cartels in Dublin in 2016 and lead operations against groups in Ireland during the final years of his service as Assistant Commissioner for Special Crime Operations


    John died suddenly on 27th September 2024, just one month before the publication of this book.


    Garda Commission Drew Harris described John as, “An outstanding member of An Garda Síochána. Throughout his 41 years of stellar service, John worked tirelessly to protect the most vulnerable in society and was a great advocate for the power of sport, particularly boxing, in helping and supporting children from deprived areas.. ."


    Minister for Justice Helen McEntee said she was, “very sad and shocked” at the loss and went on to describe him as a “man who manifested integrity and decency, completely dedicated to public service and to serving the State to the very best of his considerable ability. Throughout his career he mentored scores of Gardaí, built strong teams, and played a leading role in devising and implementing An Garda Síochána’s partnership with international law enforcement in tackling the scourge of organised crime groups,”


    Taoiseach Simon Harris said “John was a distinguished member of An Garda Síochána who served the force with such integrity”.


    In a statement Harris said: “Throughout his 41 years of stellar service, John worked tirelessly to protect the most vulnerable in society and was a great advocate for the power of sport, particularly boxing, in helping and supporting children from deprived areas.”


    In recent years, he was to the forefront in Garda successes against organised crime. This work helped save lives and protect communities from the scourge of drugs.


    This work is full of acronyms but the author had the foresight to include a glossary. I for one wouldn’t have guessed that OFAC meant Office of Foreign Assets Control or that an ESDA was an electrostatic detection apparatus.


    And John O’ Driscoll had wonderful turn of phrase, so the book is loadable with quotable lines. When describing his formula for dealing with international criminal organisations he says, "Anything can be unravelled if you pick at the right threads.”


    On Duty is published by Gill Books is an education in the workings of the Irish police and covers ground that not one Garda, before O’ Driscoll, even touched on. In the words of Conor Brady former editor of The Irish Times it is, “Quite without precedent.”

    WANT TO TWIN?


    My native village/townland of Lacken in west Wicklow has a school, a pub, a church and a community centre and a population of 200. If the powers that be in any similar place in the USA would like to twin with Lacken please let me know.


    See you in March.


    Click on the author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.
    This issue appears in the ezine at www.pencilstubs.com and also in the blog www.pencilstubs.net with the capability of adding comments at the latter.


    Woo Woo


    By Pauline Evanosky

    Splitting Hairs


    I realized something this morning. People don’t always know what a channel is. That is why I began to refer to myself as a psychic channel many years ago. Although, that has never felt completely right to me either. I suppose it would be truthful to admit that I sometimes get nudges out of who knows where about things. But I cannot market that particular talent. It’s just not reliable and I can’t pull it out of a hat.


    Mostly, I receive psychic hits these days. Like when my husband is going to telephone or when he is walking up the steps to our house. However, that could just be our long association as we’ve been married for 48 years.


    I’m not the person who will know when an airliner or a train is going to crash. Sometimes, I get a sense of disaster, though the last time was in terms of political machinations. That, too, might have only been an overactive imagination. Who knows? Time will tell, I suppose.


    It has never worked with the lottery, which I would think a psychic should be able to do. Somewhere I read Edgar Casey got himself banned from the tables in a gambling casino, but I cannot now find evidence of that fact on the internet. It’s just something I knew a long time ago. If you want to hear a channeling funny Edgar just told me gambling is the Devil’s work.


    I have never felt a bit psychic because it is as natural as breathing. Yes, I will sometimes get a psychic hit about somebody I’ve met, but it’s never anything that has proven to be a game-changer. I’ve met people who make me uneasy and I will avoid any more contact with them. I’m sure not going to go to someone and say, “Hey, I think you’re a dangerous person. Am I correct?” In fact, everybody does that.


    I have to confess going into great detail about what a psychic channel does is harder than just saying I talk to dead people. Also, animals and sometimes plants, but I am not the one who will usually instigate such conversations. Although I do not now give readings, people will approach me and want to hear from their relatives and loved ones who have passed. I cannot summon these folks to come talk to me. I have to just wait to see if they are there. If there are any messages, I will relay what is said.


    Which brings me to why I feel uneasy when I say I talk to the dead. I do if they are there to talk to. Can you imagine how many people have passed over the eons? And, talking to Mark Twain in Heaven is likely not the same entity who now walks upon the earth if he is reincarnated.


    I asked my spirit guide about that and was told that you can have simultaneous lives, the soul that is you can be thought of as your higher self. Meanwhile, that higher self knows which personality the person on earth wants to talk to. So, yes, I have spoken with Mark Twain occasionally. Is he alive now? Maybe. Probably. It was a massive puzzle for me for a time. Now, I am at peace with it. If they will talk to me I will talk to them. But, I haven’t been so much the approacher as I am the approchee. I think I will begin saying now that the dead talk to me. It’s a fine distinction, but I think it is more honest.


    In the articles I write both here and in other places, Spirit does come to chat. If it is appropriate, I will include their comments, which, at times, are funny. Other times, they are just thought-provoking. It took me time to gain harmony with the peanut gallery I once called them. But, now, they have acceded to my simple requests that not everybody talks at once. That used to get complicated.


    In the first year, when I learned how to channel after the peanut gallery had become rambunctious and noisy as anything, I only decided to talk to my guide, Seth. After about a year I began slowly to speak to other entities. I remember Amedeaus Mozart was one of the first entities I talked to. This also opened up other possibilities as I learned folk on the other side were willing to help me learn things.


    So, from now on, I will say the dead speak to me rather than the other way around. I know it’s splitting hairs, but it feels right.


    Thanks for reading. You can find more of my writing on Medium.com. I published a book years ago with channeled advice available at LuLu.com, and I plan to begin writing books this year that will be sold on Amazon.


    Never quit believing in magic. It is real.
    Pauline Evanosky


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    This issue appears in the ezine at www.pencilstubs.com and also in the blog www.pencilstubs.net with the capability of adding comments at the latter.


    Sifoddling Along

     


    By Marilyn Carnell

    A New Stage of Life

    The time has come for me to give up some of my independence and move to an apartment in a “Senior Living” location. I have been on waiting lists at a couple of places I was considering for about 18 months, but larger apartments are scarce, so I thought I had more time.


    I will be moving to a Presbyterian facility, Beacon Hill, in Minnetonka, MN on February 11. The apartment has two bedrooms and a large “dining room” that I plan to use for my office. It is on the southwest corner of the building on the 4th floor. There are lots of windows so it is bright and airy.


    To simplify the move, I have hired a special moving company, Rose’s Daughters to move me and set up the new place. They pack and unpack everything just they way I want it. so I will feel “at home” right away. There are lots of activities including a writing group, exercise classes and meals if I want. It has a complete kitchen, 2 bedrooms, 2 baths (one shower, one tub), and a washer & dryer in the apartment.


    Minnetonka abuts Hopkins, so I will be near my family. I plan on keeping my car while I still feel safe driving and there is a heated, underground garage for that.


    This is a big step for me, but I am advised that it is important to make the move while I am still active and can socialize. I hope I can publish some photos in the future and report on how things are working out. A benefit is that I already know two of the residents, and they will help me get oriented.


    I understand if I put a birdfeeder in the window, I can also attract flying squirrels. That should be interesting. I can write a critter report.


    Click on the author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.
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    On Trek



    By Judith Kroll

    How Far Can We Bend?

    We are all extremely strong. Because we can bend we seem to take everything farther than we probably should. Life is riddled with problems that come in droves it seems, I know we all understand this. We bend to try and make things work, but we reach the breaking point, and we say, "enough". Many times we see that the problem isn't always us, it is other people who are bending us, trying to mold us to do things their way.


    Family, friends, Religious leaders, Work relationships etc. all tugging and pulling us at once. And we still bend. When do we end the bend?


    It will probably never end, but we become more elastic, and stretch farther. When we are in control of ourselves, then we can choose when to bend, or not budge.


    Saying No is hard to do, but it is necessary. Like a child, they need protected, they need to hear the NO's and why it is a NO. For their safety, and for our peace of mind.


    But when someone is using us beyond normal, we have to learn to say Enough. We set our own boundaries.


    Some folks would push us till we broke.


    Love is always a factor. If we love someone we won't bend them, we would help them. But remember, we all have limits.


    Think of solutions using Love and not hate. Saying no is love for ourselves too. Then later we can help when we are ready, if it is not toxic. Toxic people are hurtful to the soul. Some never stop till we say stop.


    Love yourself first, it truly is important.
    Judith


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    Phases

     

    By Mary E. Adair

    Life evolves in many phases
    Which can involve many places
    Some are quiet, a pure delight
    With peacefulness both day and night

    Yet others become exciting places
    Like fast horse or faster car races
    All are needed to round out one's being
    As memories record whatever you're seeing

    Whether serene or ferociously wild
    You remember it all since being a child
    Sometimes you recall what makes you weep
    Yet some are just boring you into sleep

    Each phase has a purpose, clear or not,
    It just shows you how far you've got
    Gaining in knowledge, if not in wealth,
    The important lesson: Protect your health.

    One can spend little time or endless days
    Living through just one intriguing phase
    Keep up the viewing--each phase has worth
    As long as you're dwelling on this earth.

    © Jan 30, 2025 Mary E. Adair


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    At Least Try!

     

    By Walt Perryman

    Just try to do the right thing, night and day,
    Someone might notice and be the same way.

    Try to set a good example for someone to see,
    There’s some that’s never seen how it should be.

    Parking your shopping cart isn’t much to do.
    But if anyone notices, maybe they will too!

    You will never be a perfect woman or man,
    Just try to do what’s right whenever you can.

    You might be surprised who is watching you,
    Maybe someone will see, how they should do.

    An honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay,
    Don’t forget to thank the good Lord, every day!
    PS. God and you will know you are trying.

    ©Jan 16, 2025 Walt Perryman


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    Why Change Anything

     

    By Bud Lemire

    God made people, to be as beautiful as they are
    So many are much more beautiful, by far
    You don't need botox in your lips, no way
    It just makes you look like a freak, every day

    You don't need to change anything, why get a tattoo
    The body is much better looking, remaining the true you
    Don't need to shave the eyebrows, I like how they look
    If you can't paint very well, it makes you look like a kook

    I'm into natural, just be as you're meant to be
    Don't you see your own beauty, that is what I see
    You don't need to change anything, for me
    The beauty I behold in you, makes it the key

    The body is perfect, accepting it is what you should do
    You can't always undo your choices, once you go through
    I go for personality, you don't need to change a thing
    Let your character shine, that will give you a zing

    Personality, and having a loving heart
    Now that to me, is a work of art
    Be happy and content, with how you were made
    Don't change anything, you don't need an upgrade

    ©Jan 7, 2025 Bud Lemire

                         Author Note:

    After seeing some people with too much botox in their lips,
    it had me thinking. So many people are concerned about
    their looks, and trying to improve it, when they don't need to.
    If only they could see the beauty they have, without changes.
    That beauty that is the soul, that is shown in their personality.


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    There is More to Talking than Words

     

    By Walt Perryman

    When you speak, it’s the tone of your voice,
    It can do good, or harm and it is your choice.

    I believe the tone in your voice is powerful.
    It can make someone feel good or terrible!

    Sometimes, your words can not say it alone,
    What can make the difference is your tone!

    But, it is not just your tone as you will realize,
    Your tone must match your heart and eyes!

    ©Jan 11, 2025 Walt Perryman


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    Spider

     

    By John I. Blair

    As I leaned attentively
    Listening to the speaker of the day
    Talk about a life that was not frightening,

    I noticed on the shiny floor
    Beside his foot
    A tiny spider
    Barely bigger than a bean
    But black as soot.

    It wandered slow across the wood
    Apparently in search of food,
    Oblivious to the room so full of humans.

    I could not keep myself from wondering
    If the spider did not see
    That the massive fabric pier
    Next to its octuple of eyes

    Was in fact a leg
    That with a single careless movement
    Could squash it flatter than a leaf,
    Too fast for grief.

    With my cane
    I gently nudged the spider,
    Hoping to divert its path
    Into a safer arc;

    But it refused to harken
    To my hint and wandered
    Farther into jeopardy,
    Aiming down the aisle
    Between other human legs.

    Then fate delivered safety;
    Its route brought it to the door
    And thence into the nearby kitchen

    Where, hopefully,
    It found a host of insects
    More suitable to greet
    Than a size 12 brogan would have been.

    ©2025 John I. Blair, 1/26/2025


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