June 5, 1913
Today is my second day at the Plummer’s and I’ve barely had a moment to even breathe. It isn’t that there is so much work to do but all the visitors. It seems the whole neighborhood has stopped by to say hello and see how I am doing or to bring me a lunch or dinner. I haven’t had to cook at all.
It is dark outside now. I shouldn’t be wasting the lamp oil, but I just wanted to add a few lines to you today.
June 10th, 1913
I am still at Plummer’s. I surely shouldn’t have worried about being lonely here, someone is always stopping by and Mama calls everyday. She was feeling poorly with one of her headaches but today she said it was gone. I hated being away when she is like that for I know she really could use my help. She did say Hazel had pitched in and taken good care of her.
June 19th, 1913
It’s not even daylight but I must write about last night before I forget all the details. When I went out to check on the animals last evening the air felt oppressively hot. I got all the animals bedded down and all seemed fine except the horse seemed a bit skittish. When I emerged from barn through the haze of humid air, I could see dark gray clouds rolling in and could hear thunder rumbling in the distance. If there is one thing I fear, it is lightning. I dashed for the house as large splats of rain started to fall. I was barely inside when I heard a loud hiss followed by a brilliant flash of light out in the barnyard. The force was so powerful it nearly knocked me off of my feet. Another intense flash came from across the road followed by a deafening crash of thunder. Within seconds I was clinging to Bismark, the Plummer’s dog. The storm didn’t seem to faze him though. The lightening was followed by heavy sheets of rain and gusty winds but thank goodness the lightening moved into the distance.
The sun is up so I am going to interrupt my writing and check outside.
I am back. Everything seems fine except I found a clump of trees near the barn singed. Uncle Waddington came by to check on me and said a calf at the place across the road was hit and killed by a bolt of lightning.
As long as I live I hope to never see a lightning storm that close again. I tremble to think what might have happened if I hadn’t run for the house when I did.
June 23, 1913
This morning I took advantage of some solitude and lowered myself into a tub of warm water with thick bar of soap. I scrubbed myself until my flesh was pink, and my nails cleaner than they’ve ever been all week. Never before have I had a tub all to myself without having to take turns with the rest of the family.
A moment ago I stood on the hilltop behind the Plummer’s place with may arms spread, my hair blowing in the gentle breeze. I felt so free. Now I am sitting up here letting the sun dry my hair. Down below I can see the roofs of the farm buildings glinting in the sun and beyond the sparkling water of Deep creek as it ambles along. And the horse and cattle dot the fields like miniature figures.
Soon though I must return to the house and pin up my dark brown hair. All ladies keep their hair pinned up. And a lady I must be.
June 25, 1913
Well Roy I suppose you think I have forgotten you but not that. I’ll tell you I answered your letter as soon as I got it and have been waiting so long for a letter and last night I thot sure I would get a letter but here come my letter back I guess you must be in Puyallup for it said you were not there. I’ll tell you I was sure disappointed. We have quite a time with our letters don’t we, my other letter is so long in reaching you.
Well how are you anyway. I am pretty well. I have been staying with a neighbor while they went to town, I have been gone nearly two weeks. Just got back home.
Is Justin in Puyallup? I suppose he is for you couldn’t keep him away for at present anyway (ha ha)
I’ll wait until I hear from him and then I’ll write to him so tell him to write to me. I think my Wash. friends are few for I don’t get near so many letters as I did.
Every thing looks fine here I hardly knew my garden it looked so nice, everything is so large.
Things are getting pretty dry tho. We have some rain but not near enough. Last week while I was at Plummer’s, we had several bad storms and oh…I am afraid of them. I worry every time from the time I see a cloud coming until it is gone. Last Wednesday we had a very bad one. The lightning killed a calf in a corral a little ways from the house. I’ll tell you that is as near as I care to have the lightening to come to me. I was almost crazy for a little while.
Where are Uncle Sol and the rest of the people we never hear from any of them. How are your berries, wish I was there to help you eat some and pick a few. My it makes me homesick for Wash.
You had better come out in time for the fair at Spearfish. We will have a fine time. Tell Aunt Ann to write for I haven’t forgotten her if she has me. I feel pretty blue today and have a headache so must close. Hoping you will for give me and write as soon as received.