May 7, 1935
Today is Karl’s birthday—he has just become 40 years old. So now Life Begins for him. I tried to get a chicken to send him but no-one will sell any at this season so I just sent him a card. It is raining again—a thunder shower this time—just a fierce one. Richard Olson plowed our garden this morning and Daddy did all the rest of the digging so now if it’s nice tomorrow I shall get my seeds into the ground.
Myron played in Church Sunday night as I didn’t feel good—he tried to get Mrs. Robertson to come and play but she wasn’t well either, so Myron had to. He said he made no mistakes.
Harriet is to be a gypsy in the Senior class Specialty and She and Donald Nordlie are to sing “Little Gypsy Sweetheart.” I didn’t think I’d spend the money to go this time but now I s’pose I’d better. Myron is in the Orchestra of course.
I read about the Amphion Chorus in TIME—it must have been good—it said they were butchers, barbers, and bakers—93 of them.
We had read all about Colleen Moore’s doll house in H’s school paper. Weren’t you the lucky one to see that!
Gloria has written to Russy but H never gets at writing her share—she is the busiest person I ever saw. Tonight Gloria will deliver her papers while H practices the gypsy song.
Now the sun is coming out and there are puddles of water all over the place—a river at the edge of the lawn. Who says Minnesota isn’t an ideal place to live in?
Did you read the article about Norway in the last Nat’l Geographic and the one about the Tuatara in New Zealand? I liked them both so much.
The teachers are making Harriet’s costume. I’m glad of that. I know they did it just to save me. I shall miss every one of those that are going—they are really a part of Atwater after being here so long. I think it will be hard to adjust ourselves to new faces and ways next year but I suppose that will be good for the children.
The thunder is rumbling off in the distance now and the birds are lovely with their singing. I saw a ruby crowned Kinglet in the apple tree this week. Nat’l Geog. has had good accounts of birds in the last issues.
Marjorie came over to sleep with H last night. After H went to sleep, Marjorie couldn’t get to sleep and she got lonesome for her mother. She dressed in the dark and went home about 9:30. None of us heard her. You can imagine our surprise and worry this morning. I called Betty and she said she was lonesome. Well we had a good laugh about it. It will be hard for Marjorie to meet the world, I’m afraid. Love from Mother.