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Summer II
I will leave here in May. If what I really believe is true, this place will be one that no decent, self-respecting person will even enter, by the first of July. Isn't it pitiful horrible! I love this old place more than any other spot on Earth, and…
Tags: Anna's Art, Anna's Life, Art, Diary
Summer
I will leave here in May. If what I really believe is true, this place will be one that no decent, self-respecting person will even enter, by the first of July. Isn't it pitiful horrible! I love this old place more than any other spot on Earth, and…
Tags: Anna's Art, Anna's Life, Art, Diary
Pie
Dear Joe, Today I made a pie. It was a wond'rous pie! (Now you must take my word for it, It really is no lie). The filling first I stirred around, With sugar and with spice. (The recipe it called for milk, I substituted ice). Cloves, cinnamon and…
Tags: Anna's Art, Anna's Life, Art, Diary
Ax
You may remember that the day we had our talk on the road to FredoniaI spoke of having two men at work cutting wood. Well, they loafed and fooled over the job in spite of my constantly urging them to hurry. The best wood was at the other end of the…
Tags: Anna's Art, Anna's Life, Art, Diary
Water barrel
Last winter and the winter before I always had water hauled for me. This winter, also, I intended to do it, but it all came about in this manner: Mr. Jackway was busy fishing and couldn't do it for weeks. So I went to Mine Chousine and offered to pay…
Tags: Anna's Art, Anna's Life, Art, Diary
[Untitled work]
Illustration from the margins of Chapter III of Van Buren Life
Tags: Anna's Art, Anna's Life, Art, Diary
Fisherman's Hollow
I knew that the roads were drifting fast, but as I had walked down the beach I didn't realize how fast. My one hope was to get to Fredonia and back before they became impassable. Maybe you remember the two hollows on the Lake Road just before you…
Tags: Anna's Art, Anna's Life, Art, Diary
The Bluff
In the morning the gale had died down a little and I then saw what I never expect to see again. The bluff, for yards back from its edge, was sheathed in ice - every blade and spear of grass stood up round and stiff in its coating of ice. The smaller…
Tags: Anna's Art, Anna's Life, Art, Diary