8:228) Hope O`Keeffe 06-JUN-98 3:44

Under the floorboards upstairs, the construction crew has found a worn black notebook. Most of it is lists of accounts, the costs of bread and coal in the 1920s, monies owed from the boarders, all in picil. A woman's hand, I am sure.

But on the flyleaf, in pencil, it says:

Birds I saw at the birdbath Saturday May 1930

Tanager, Robin. beautiful longtailed brown thrush Smaller speckled thrush bathed and preened his feathers 2 catbirds. Blue jay. I can't imagine a place being more heaven than my front porch, morning, afternoon or evening, in May. I wonder if there is such a thing as being too thankful. Seems I was before I lost dad and I was so thankful. It seemed I had come to rest. Even when your body sits still and rests your mind goes on automatically thinking dreaming wondering ---

****

Later, on the same page, in ink:

This house is cold. Why? Oh I think winter is the time to visit. Of course one does not have the comforts of home. If I go some where or if some body comes here we don't find it like home in any way, and of course we are bound to howl. But since howling is our nature, why not?

***

There is no more.

I MUST find out who this woman was. And, of course, I must build a pond, if only as a birdbath...