"To us it's very far from clear
The reasons for our being here
We'd leave at once, but do not know
We've any place where we might go"
That was a quote from an adult children's book (the best kind of book, in my opinion) by Edward Gorey. I remember distinctly the day when I read that book. I was in Pittsboro, NC, working on the farm. I took a half-day off from the farm to retreat into the air-conditioning of the tiny public library. I did the obligatory walk through the shelves, waiting for a classic novel to jump out at me (waiting for the day when I actually wanted to read Anna Karenina). Nothing. Nothing, at least, to retain my interest in the blinding humidity after an exhausting day of work. And then I happily twisted around and went to the children's book section. Why would I bother sitting in a chair when there were bean bags propped in an abandoned corner of the room? I was struck by this section of The Unwelcome Guest because it described my exact feelings. Where would I go? What would I do? When I was home recently, I came across a scrap of paper on which I had written the Gorey quote.
