An unveiling of artifacts

The Tale of the Librarian's Fifth Wife is collection of moments, an assemblage of events, a bread basket of words, a swap meet of scraps left behind from a beautiful romance that will help clue you in to the real deal, to the life of two star crossed lovers that has already been lived and left behind. For the moment, anyway.


Our lives lie scattered over several states and a half a case worth of decades. It's not so much a want as a need to do this, to gather together the splinters and the shards of our times and share them here with you. Those bits and pieces of flotsam and jetsam found below in this winsome log are the bits and pieces of our times, a smattering of the trinkets of the love that Jane and I gathered up over the course of five long hard years. How they come to you now is in a story of sorts, a type of autobiographical fiction, with images cadged from places other than our satchel. Give it time, photos, sepia, wrinkled, pocket worn, are yet to come.


So, what else is there to do but get out that cobbled together blanket of dreams from the back of the car, spread it out under the branches of our favorite green and noble Oregon Maple tree that we both loved and share these words and tales of those long ago times with you. It was a wonderful time. Sit a spell, grab your spectacles and come ride along with us for awhile.

Love, Jane, the Professora and Roger, the Wild Half Mexican Boy



Friday, May 22, 2009

Some Tom Petty lyrics to go along with that Captain Nemo trunk recording, 08


Woke up this morning to muted sunshine, a nestled cat, a clutted room, an old snapshot of your face. Padded downstairs, let the cat out, boiled up some water, brewed up a presspot of very strong coffee. Did a bit of housework, stripped the bed, forgot the dishes, toasted some sourdough and added a bit more flour to the pot that's bubbling on the kitchen table. Stood outside on the porch for a bit while the music played, looked out over the water and thought about what a colleague told me yesterday about views. How important it is to have one so you have a reason to look out and away from yourself. So I did. Looked out over the water, out towards the mountains. Nice time, gazing over that view. There is a big world out there yet to be conquered, buddy, and somewhere out there you're in it, too.

So I took in the view and saw the long road that lies before me and I was glad. Happy knowing that there's still miles to go before I sleep. And know that when I finally do lay my head down on that goose down pillow I'll be whistling a Tom Petty tune that I've heard a thousand times before. Whenever I hear it I crank it up and sing along, sing way up loud. My neighbors most certainly heard me sing along with this song this morning. I'm sure you must have heard me, too, if you had your ears cocked in the right direction.
So, sing along with me, buddy, it's our song. That is, outside of Sabor a Mi.

"You and I Will Meet Again"

You and I will meet again
When we're least expecting it
One day in some far off place
I will recognize your face
I won't say good-bye my friend
For you and I will meet again

I heard you singing to no one
I saw you dancing all alone
One day you belonged to me
Next day I just wouldn't know
Someday all the rules will bend
And you and I will meet again

I've got a feeling
I've got a feeling so strong
Maybe someday
our paths will cross

A red-winged hawk is circling
The blacktop stretches out for days
How could I get so close to you
And still feel so far away?
I hear a voice come on the wind
Sayin' you and I will meet again
I don't know how, I don't know when
But you and I will meet again

by Tom Petty
Into the Great Wide Open

Love, your WHMB

No comments: