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


Monday, August 31, 2009

Lacking a Sibley's, sighting a kingfisher, last day of August 09

I would have never thought to look up if it hadn't been for that strident screeching I heard coming from the neighbor's fir tree. I somehow remembered hearing that sound before, during some walk or another I took a few months back. It was late spring and I was close to home, a block or so off the water when I heard that very same sound. I looked up and there they were, two kingfishers racing their way up a side street, to some nest or observation place not too far off of the water. Seeing the kingfishers made me glad then and made me smile this morning. It was a good omen for the day. The only thing that I was lacking was the ability to write or call you, just to let you know that your favorite bird was sighted practically right outside my kitchen window.


I know that binoculars and guide books would have come in handy, but they are all packed away and so out of the way that searching for them would have been a complete waste of time. I knew that tufted little head well enough from earlier sightings, from our discussions and your passionate school calls on the subject. All that was enough for me to be able to recognize the outline, and then, with a bit of imagination and all the pictures and photographs and personal experiences I gathered over the years helped fill in the rest.


There was a time when emails would have flying back and forth, where rivalry would have prevailed and you would have, well, just might have, jumped in your car and raced over to see the show. Speaking of which, it's about time for the annual "bird show" in Portland. No guidebook needed to enjoy the Vaux Swifts return to that school's brick chimney. Seeing those kingfishers were a reminder that the fall birding season is upon us. Seems like the weather is right, that there is plenty of time afoot and that the weekends are open for a nice afternoon drive down south. Plenty of stuff to do other than birding. No one said we had to spend the entire time in town grooving on birds now, right?


Okay, just a quick post just to let you know that your favorite bird was hanging around today, and that I was around not only to witness it but that I also have enough time on my hands to pass along a "nah-nah! I had two kingfishers in my yard this morning! What about you?"


Your WHMB
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