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



Wednesday, December 16, 2009

The phone rings...12/09



...and there's nobody there. It wasn't one of those dinner hour computer hang ups, it didn't have the crazy sweet giddy joy of a preteen prank call. No, just a "hello...hello?" from me and silence on the other end. I couldn't detect breathing, I couldn't hear background noise that would have said to me "phone booth at the mall". I couldn't hear anything other than my rampant imagination howling. It was all I could do not to call out your name. Instead I said "happy holidays" to the ether and hung up.

I would have talked to that dark space on the other end of the line until it hung up or I got tired or thirsty or the pasta water boiled, but I just didn't have it in me tonight. I have stuff to bring down and a car to pack and all that. I am fighting the idea of going that long distance just to have someone evaluate me for fifteen minutes for a job I'm not sure I want or that I'm even truly qualified for, but so far they're only ones that have given me a nod. As the saying goes you have to dance with those that brung ya, and this one, the Vehicle Inspector Trainee position for Idaho State's Department of Transportation, is the pretty fat gal that I will dance with till dawn if that's what it takes to get a job.

So, until the dawn I'll pretend my destiny lies elsewhere. Until first light I'll think that everything that matters to me lies up and over the Cascades and the Blues in the Treasure Valley. Until I find myself on the road in the morning and heading to Boise I'll just ignore those other thoughts that I just had a moment ago when the phone rang, when I picked it up and said hello to the universe..and to you. Yeah, hello to you, if only in my heart.

Those thoughts, the ones in my heart, tell me to stay. My mind and my bank account and my children all say "please, get out of the house and come over here!" I think, for the moment, I'll let the joy of the holidays and my children guide me in my decision making, as your children once guided you back in our day. Our children, the non-negotiables, possess the true meaning of Christmas and for me, anyway, are the reason for the season. Truly, the only reason to hit the road during this wild and crazy weather time of the year.

Hello...and Happy Holidays to you, my true love. Your WHMB on the other end of the line.

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