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Author Biography
Rose Mary Clarke writes a weekly column about life experiences.
Rose Mary Clarke started writing columns for the Knightstown Banner when she was in high school. A graduate of Knightstown High School, Ball State and Indiana University, she taught French at Franklin Central High School and Howe High School. Her husband, daughter Victoria and she lived in Irvington for many years. She and Bill currently live in Warren Park.
She was a Realtor for over twenty years and returned to writing columns about twelve years ago. Her weekly column that also appears in the Weekly View is about life experiences — travel, nature, the arts and the funny/sad events of the past. She is an avid reader and enjoys writing, cooking and eating good food.
She has published a book of some of her columns that is called Ramblings: A Stroll Down Memory Lane with Henry David Thoreau.
Rose Mary Clarke passed away October 26, 2017.
Rose Mary Clarke’s Story Archive
Breaking Up is Hard to Do, Part 2
Hasn’t this early spring been one of the loveliest? Our magnolia tree and the ones throughout Irvington were absolutely loaded with blossoms. The plum and pear trees that Bill planted are in full, sweet-smelling bloom. Eek! They’re predicting a freeze. That’s Indiana for you. It’s hard to think serious thoughts … Read More
Breaking Up is Hard to Do
The word “Realtor” comes from real property — i.e. the land and permanent structures and should be pronounced “Reeltor” rather than “Real-a-tor.” Really proficient Realtors have real estate in the back of their minds 24/7. In fact, it is easy to become obsessed with it. They love to exchange war … Read More
Easter Redux
Peter Paas Easter Egg Dye is to eggs what chocolate chips are to cookies. When I was a girl, Mother and I used the dye tablets dissolved in vinegar, and Bill, Vicki and I dyed eggs and ornamented them with the little doodads from the kits. Peter Paas has been … Read More
Life at the Intersection of Luck and Love: Moving On, Part 7
Last week I wrote about selling our home and Judge Harold Kohlmeyer’s exquisite residence that Harold’s widow asked me to list. After she showed me the upstairs, we went down to the big, gloomy basement. I’d never seen anything like it. Stunned, I exclaimed, “Oh my goodness!” “Harold saved everything,” … Read More