Welcome to my blog. I write about fitting in, sticking out, and missing the motherland as a serial foreigner.

Twilight zone

Miriam and I were on a walk yesterday, saying hello to the cows and horses that live across the street. As we walked, I noticed a small scrap of paper on the ground with some handwriting on it. I looked closer and realized that what was written on it was my full name. My full maiden name.

[Twilight Zone music]

Before I really freaked out, I took a moment to think. I had seen the handwriting before, somewhere. But where? And why was it in my maiden name?

After a few moments, I was able to remember that it was the handwriting of one of the librarians at our local library branch. With that came the realization that the scrap of paper was what they insert between a book's pages to signify that it is on reserve for a specific library patron. Then, when you pick up your books on reserve, they usually take the paper out for you.

And it was in my maiden name because my library card is in my maiden name, along with almost every other bill we have here (I didn't get around to changing my name legally until a little while after we moved to Tucson. Which meant that I felt like an unmarried - and looked like a teenage, to everyone who encountered me - mother when I was dealing with all of Miriam's birth and medical paperwork).

So that part of the mystery was solved. The only remaining question was why the slip of paper was now on the ground. I can only imagine that the librarian did not remove it from a book, and that I then recycled it, and that it fell out of the recycling barrel, possibly on trash day during pickup. And then the wind blew it away to where I found it yesterday.

Or so it would seem...

Creepiest LOST moments