I thought that my night in Carlisle, PA would be spent solely in the Ramada, but I decided to wander out for a couple different reasons. The job I just finished has a site there, and they have Fiction Writing class. In the last week of teaching I decided that I must teach that class next year. One of the other classes was working on short stories, and though I was not unhappy with the work my class was doing, I was filled with seething jealousy.
But that is not the point. The point is that I was driving down the street and caught a glimpse of an historical marker. I thought I saw the words "Marianne Moore." I stopped the car and walked back. I was correct! It was Marianne Moore's house. She lived there for about twenty years before she was superfamous. Unfortunately, my camera batteries were dead, so I have no pictures. It was a blue and red row house. The family who lives there now had a little index card in the window (mere feet from the historical marker) to indicate that she had lived there.
A better blogger would do a little write-up of Marianne Moore. But I am lazy, so here is a link:
http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/96
Real toads in imaginary gardens!
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