Carl Sandburg House

On the way to the town of the wedding we were invited to, Dorothy and I stopped by the Carl Sandburg House. It is in North Carolina just north of the South Carolina line. Dorothy knows by heart a lot of Sandburg's poems. All I remember from school is the line about the fog creeping in on little cat feet. One thing I learned was Sandburg only went through the eighth grade. As you may remember I only went through grade seven and one-half. I wish I would have learned years ago about the fact that he did so well with so little education. Maybe I would have been motivated to write a few poems myself. The thing that interested me most about the Sandburg place was the goat farm. I'll talk more about that later. This morning we were watching TV and this newscaster came on that looked, to me, a lot like Carl Sandburg. Sandburg died in 1967 and this news fellow was born in 1970. It got me thinking. Could people come back from the grave? Then I realized how silly this was when I saw one parted his hair on the left and the other on the right.