Soapweed
Well-known member
My journal entry for Wednesday, July 3, 1968
I floundered out of bed at 6:30. Dad wanted to put on our new Kosch mower so he would know what parts to order, so we stayed home this morning.
My main job consisted of sharpening sickles. This kind of gets monotonous, and somehow I got a headache out of the deal.
Dad and the rest of them worked on the mower. Not much excitement was reported.
We had dinner at 12:00. I read until 1:00—"The Stranger, My Son," by Louis Wilson (out of a Reader's Digest).
We loaded up and headed for the Leach Place in the afternoon. Lloyd took his car down so he could leave early (his mother is in the hospital with gall bladder trouble).
Dad and I stopped in town at the hardware store for barbed wire. We got the mail and went south.
We put in a short stretch of fence north of the Myers buildings—using old wire and posts. This job wound up at 7:00, so we came home.
In town, we left Doug off and then went over to pay Dad's bill at Buckles Station.
Dad, the girls, and I did chores. We had a rather quiet supper without hired men.
I read some more and then wrote a letter to Chester Wingfield [about mules he had for sale]. I'm not caught up in this thing [the diary], but I guess I'll hit the sack anyway.
I floundered out of bed at 6:30. Dad wanted to put on our new Kosch mower so he would know what parts to order, so we stayed home this morning.
My main job consisted of sharpening sickles. This kind of gets monotonous, and somehow I got a headache out of the deal.
Dad and the rest of them worked on the mower. Not much excitement was reported.
We had dinner at 12:00. I read until 1:00—"The Stranger, My Son," by Louis Wilson (out of a Reader's Digest).
We loaded up and headed for the Leach Place in the afternoon. Lloyd took his car down so he could leave early (his mother is in the hospital with gall bladder trouble).
Dad and I stopped in town at the hardware store for barbed wire. We got the mail and went south.
We put in a short stretch of fence north of the Myers buildings—using old wire and posts. This job wound up at 7:00, so we came home.
In town, we left Doug off and then went over to pay Dad's bill at Buckles Station.
Dad, the girls, and I did chores. We had a rather quiet supper without hired men.
I read some more and then wrote a letter to Chester Wingfield [about mules he had for sale]. I'm not caught up in this thing [the diary], but I guess I'll hit the sack anyway.