4,302 Words Down. 45,698 More To Go.

Starting from where I left off… I’m not sure why some of this is in smaller type then the rest. :p

Mother greeted me as I came through the door, and I smiled and took off my bulky coat. Draping it over a chair near the popping fire, I paused for a few seconds, warming my numb hands.

~*~*~*~

Around dinner time, Mother had me ring the cowbell outside. It clanged noisily as I hurriedly shook it, and I quickly stepped inside the house again as a gust of wind flipped my thick, long braid into my face. I licked my lips and set the bell back in it’s place, hoping I had rung it long and hard enough that the boys had heard it. Soon my wondering was finished, as the door swung open and stamping feet came in.

“I do believe we’re expecting a storm sometime in the next few days,” Father commented, puffing out warm breath onto his fingertips. I mentally sighed—Winter was my least favorite season—it was so cold and we couldn’t travel as well when the weather was bad. I shook my head at myself—there I was complaining again.

We sat down to the large pot full of steaming chicken soup and a loaf of delicious bread. Mm, food. We all stuffed ourselves and the older boys hurriedly left with Father to get back to work. I scrubbed at the dishes and put them away while Mother took a short nap, then I awoke her. “Mother, I’m finished with the dishes.” She yawned and got up sleepily. “I’m afraid I’ll be needing more rest now that the baby is on the way,” she commented smiling. I nodded, then eagerly asked, “Would it be all right with you if I go to the barn and play my violin?”

Mother laughed and confirmed that the answer was yes with a nod of her head. I smiled brightly and pulled myself up the ladder to the loft. Sliding the violin out from under the bed, I grasped the beloved case and descended the ladder more graciously and slowly then I had done in the morning. One of the worst things I could think of happening would be that I would drop the case. I set it carefully down on the floor as I shrugged on my coat again. In my excitement I forgot the scarf this time, but it was no matter. I almost skipped a few buttons as I fumbled to do them. Mother laughed at me, “It’s amazing how much enjoyment you get from that!” She hesitated, “But of course, you know how much enjoyment I get from hearing you play it… Have a fun time playing to the cattle!”

I laughed and picked up the chocolate-colored leather case once more. Mother glanced at my hands, and her smile turned to a slight frown. “Your coat sleeves are getting quite short for you.” She commented glancing at my face. I stopped for a moment. “Oh, you are right! I guess I’m getting a bit bigger, right?” I laughed a little nervously, I didn’t want Mother to have to worry about a coat for me—we didn’t have money flowing out of our drawers, and I could live with my woolen coat for now. “It’s all right, Mother! I can do fine with this one, really! My wrists really don’t get that much colder then when I have longer sleeves.” I laughed. She shrugged, “Well, all right dear. Now off you go.” She opened the door for me as I said “Thank you! See you soon!”

I placed one boot in front of the other as I paced the ground to the barn. The small windows let in enough light at this time of day that I had no need to light any lanterns. I heard Fanny mooing from the back, and I again ascended a ladder, this time to the loft. My right hand gripped the straw-strewn floor of the mow as I climbed up, and I stood once I was there completely. Undoing the clasps on my case, I lifted out the beautifully made instrument and lifted it. I raised the bow and gently laid it on the strings. I played my newest composition, “Gently” and experimented with the different sounds. Soft music spread throughout the building, and I closed my eyes as I slightly swayed with the wonderful notes. I don’t know how much later it was that I laid them aside and descended the ladder to walk back home. Surprisingly, my hands were barely numb, and I had not really noticed the cold while I had been playing. Sliding the door open, I walked inside. Mother sat near the table reading the Bible. Her graying hair was pulled up into a soft bun, but a few strands fell in front of her eyes. I softly closed the door and put my violin underneath my bed again. I stole downstairs again quietly, and wondered where the little boys were, as Mother was alone in the house. She didn’t say anything, but only sat there silently. I gripped the door and opened it again to find out where the little boys. Mother was acting differently—She wasn’t normally this quiet, and usually she at least said hello, even if she was reading the Word. I puzzled over it in my mind as I turned the corner of the house and paused.

Our homestead was on a vast expanse of ground. Near the walls were groups of trees and a small orchard. I always wove my ways through them to reach the path to the barn. Beyond the well-trod path and barn there lay the acres we owned—right now they were bare and a grayish brown color, empty from harvest and ready for snowfall. Even farther past them was the forest. We didn’t own the forest—and I wasn’t even sure who did—but I went there semi-frequently. It was dark and mysterious most of the time, and a small stream ran through it. I had ridden another mare of ours—Missy—through it a few times. She always skittered a bit, but I was never nervous. I loved the mistiness of it, the dripping trees and the woods sounds. I thought of how the whole expanse would look in about a month—most likely covered with snow and ice. It would be harder to get around and colder…

I stopped my daydreaming and started walking again. Now that I was listening, I could hear the younger boys out in the back playing near The Big Tree. Father had tied a sack full of hay to a rope and hung it from the tree. I heard Levi laughing as I rounded the corner as he clasped his knees together and clung to the rope as Joseph spun him around and around.

My mouth twitched into a smile—I hadn’t been on the swing sack all summer. I used to play with the little boys all the time—I joined their war games and got just as messy as they did. I hadn’t really played games like that for so long though. To tell the truth, I rather missed it, but it seemed there wasn’t time. And of course, I didn’t want to ruin my dress. They didn’t really ask me to play anymore, they just played by themselves. I supposed I wasn’t very much fun to them anymore anyway. I kind of sighed—it would almost be wonderful to stay young forever. Not to worry about everything—just let the parents decide. They had all the answers anyway—it seemed. But now that I was older things were different. I saw that Father and Mother often didn’t have any answers. And when things were unsure, I was worried, and it seemed I was always worried. I didn’t trust God enough—barely ever, and it was so hard for me. I sighed heavily.

“Hi!” Daniel yelled—now he was grasping the sack and swinging back and forth. I walked forward and pushed him as hard as I could. “Aaaaaah!!!” he shrieked as the bag flailed wildly. I started laughing as he rocked back and forth. “Push me next! Me next!” Nathanael cried eagerly. I heaved him onto the sack when Daniel got off, and he gripped the rope tightly. Since he was only four, I didn’t push him nearly as hard—probably only half of what I had swung Daniel—but that was enough for him. And I shoved my worries back and tried to be carefree.

After playing with the boys for a while, I returned inside to see which chores should be done. Mother wasn’t at the table or in the kitchen, so I peeked into her and Father’s tiny closed of bedroom, as I doubted she would be in the loft. She was laying on the bed sleeping, which surprised me greatly. She had already taken a nap today, and she rarely slept so much. I shrugged—if she was tired enough to lay down again she must need the sleep. I crept away and looked at the house. It was all straightened and clean—We had done laundry on Saturday, and today was Tuesday, so we had no need to do more of that yet. Supper needed to be made, but I wasn’t sure what Mother wanted to do. I sighed, hating to feel useless like I was doing nothing; I hadn’t done very much yet that day, just normal chores and making dinner. With nothing to do though, I felt lazy but couldn’t change it, and I stepped up the ladder to the loft. Laying beside the bed was some stationary I had received in the past year, and I picked it up.

2,727 Down

I couldn’t stop shaking as I curled up next to Father under the woolen blanket. My teeth chattered noisily, though I willed them not to over and over again. Bets and Dusty, our two faithful horses, plodded quietly along, pulling the large wagon. Father and I were heading back to our home after a visit to the sick neighbor family, whom we brought a big pot of soup to; not to mention a delicious loaf of bread as well. Mother was busy with the children, and Father wanted to spend some time with me, so I rode along. It was a windy November night, and I was thankful to be near home.

“Kind of chilly, eh?” I glanced up at Father’s face. His gentle eyes found mine as well, and I smiled. “Just a little bit, yes.” I shakily answered as Bets and Dusty turned the dark corner to our little lane. A lantern lit the small window, and as we neared, a few faces looked out in expectancy. It must not have been too late, or Mother wouldn’t have allowed the little ones to stay up. But she knew how they loved to have Father say goodnight to them and tell them a story… A cornstalk story. I smiled again thinking of it. Listening to “cornstalk stories” was one of my fondest memories, and I still enjoyed sitting before the fire and laughing at Father’s humor and imagination. I just then realized how empty my stomach felt, and shook my head at myself. Why wasn’t I thinking? Of course the little ones weren’t in bed, we hadn’t even had supper!

Father pulled the horses to a stop in front of the house, and I gripped his hand as I jumped off onto the frosty ground. “See you soon!” I cheerfully yelled back as he brought the horses to the barn. My black boots ran to the broad wooden door. My icy hand started to push it open, but before I had a chance it seemingly opened for me and I walked into the midst of my excited brothers. Seth leaned over the bench cleaning the rifles—he must have gone hunting—David sat in front of the fire with a thick theology book propped up, and I smiled again. Life was good.

“Did John say hi to me? Did he? Did he?” Daniel asked incessantly. “And what about Mark?” I grinned at their excitement as Mother told them we would hear about everything later at the supper table when Father came in. Just as she finished setting the cornbread on the table, the door creaked open and Father stamped his boots trying to warm his feet. Blowing on his hands he walked towards Mother and said hello, along with a little more which made the younger boys groan in teasing. Seth, David and Michael greeted Dad and we all noisily found our seats around the crowded table. After Father thanked the Lord for the food, Mother and I stood and dished out steaming food onto the passed in plates and Father told them the basics about our trip. Mr and Mrs Drehpehs had been very thankful for the food, and the family seemed to be improving, though Mrs Drehpehs seemed a bit weak yet. Elizabeth had accepted the food gladly, as she had been the one preparing the food as of late.

“Mark was the first one to be up and about,” I commented. “He seemed full of energy as usual. John was still in bed, as was Hope, but as Father said, they seemed to be getting better. And Joshua was doing well too.” Seth glanced at me. “You didn’t mention Marie. How was she?” I shot a quick look at him. Yes, he was teasing—I smiled. “Marie was fine. I didn’t know you would be so interested.” I avoided his eyes and laughed. My brothers all loved to tease me about my friend Marie. I wasn’t sure why, but they would always give comments about how close we were. Maybe that was why I avoided mentioning her, because they talked about her in teasing enough for all of us. I pulled my mind from daydreaming and started scraping the buttered cornbread from my plate and into my mouth. I ran over the day in my mind, thinking over the conversation I had with Marie, and then sighed. Life was good. But life was hard too.

I looked over to Father as he cleared his throat. He looked over to Mother as she looked a bit nervous. Mother looked over to me as I raised my eyebrows. All the boys kept stuffing the delicious food in their mouths.

“Well.” Dad said. It seemed to have the desired effect, the boys took a second away from their precious food to look at him. Seth was the first to ask him what he wanted. Mother laughed softly and I saw her reach below the table to hold Father’s hand. My eyebrow sloped as I thought of speaking with Father in the wagon. “I still think of Nathanael as the baby.” I had said. “I probably always will, even if he’s four years old.” My head raised to look at Dad, but he seemed not to be paying attention. But I wondered why he had that interesting look in his eyes. What was he thinking? Maybe now I would know.

“Well,” Dad repeated. “If you think the food is scarce now, think again. We’re having another little one to feed soon.” My mouth really must have opened in shock. What?? The boys didn’t seem to catch on and Dad laughed. “That means that Mom is having another baby.” All I heard was the fire crackling. I was surprised, the older boys were surprised, and all the younger boys were only quiet because everyone else was. “Why are you so surprised?” Dad asked, puzzled, and suddenly the room was full of noise. “Yay!!” “What’s their name?” “A real baby??” “That’s great!” “I can’t wait!!”

I was quiet, and Mother must have noticed, because she softly said my name. “Is anything wrong?” she was so happy—I didn’t want to say anything to make her upset, but… Oh well, she knew better then I did anyway. “No, I’m fine,” I quickly said pasting a smile. I really was excited, but I was worried too… Mother was getting older. She wasn’t exactly young when she had Nathanael either. Everyone was suddenly back eating, though I was sure they were all still thinking about it.

I lowered my head, and then thought of Marie, back again to our conversation. Her mother—their babies—it was all so stressful for her, and them all. And now Mother was expecting. Would Marie mind at all? It was all puzzling and confusing to me, and a slight frown was set on my lips.

Michael looked across the table at me, and he asked me too if something was the matter. Again the automatic answer came; “No, I’m fine.” And I finished supper in a thoughtful silence.

Father read us the Bible after supper and then we gathered around the fire. I wondered again why I had thought it was so late earlier. I must have just been tired and worn out. Mother popped some popcorn then as Seth kept on cleaning the guns. Michael was playing chess with Joseph and Levi, Daniel and Nathanael were playing with carved animals that David had made them. Father wrote down some things concerning the month, and we all just talked passingly of things until we grew tired and the clock reached 9:30. I mounted the ladder to the loft, and walked to my small corner as I heard the boys on the other side of the wall noisily laughing and getting ready for bed. We had three bunk beds on their side, and Nathanael slept on a stuffed mattress on the floor. Their room was almost crammed fuller then mine, which seemed a bit hard for me to believe. My mind drifted off as I crawled through the sheets. My head sank heavily onto the pillow and all was dark and silent.

Mother called upstairs all too soon, and I seemed to fall out of bed as I got ready and buttoned up my blue dress. I smoothed down the fabric and laced up the shoes in a hurry. The boys and I always silently raced to get downstairs first—but usually I won as I had more room to dress and less people to clamber over to reach my discarded clothes from the night before. I ungracefully descended the ladder and Mother flashed me a look and laughed as she again set a delicious meal on the table. I felt slightly guilty as she usually called me to help her. She must have been letting me sleep in since I was so tired. But with the new baby she certainly must be too, and I hadn’t helped with the supper the night before… I quit fretting over it and placed some cloth napkins around each place as a finishing touch. Seven rowdy boys clamored down the ladder one after another. “Later then usual,” I commented, grinning inwardly.

“Ha. You’re just faster because you don’t have to crawl over six little boys to reach your things,” Seth teased, using my previous words almost exactly.

“Little?? I’d like to remind you that I’m taller then you by three inches, even if you are older,” David nudged him.

“And I can at least grow a darker beard then you can,” Seth shot back. David laughed in disbelief at the comment, “That’s because your hair is darker!” he protested, and they both laughed as they took their seats. The clamor died down as Father bowed his head, and opened in prayer as usual. My eyes opened and my mouth watered as I smelled the bacon. Oooh, beautiful. Beautiful bacon. It was odd how the senses were connected—smell and taste—I pondered for a second.

Family meals were always full of conversation, and usually there were two or three of them going on at once. Father and Mother would be talking together, Seth and David would be conversing with Michael, and of course, the little boys would all be jabbering. I usually listened or talked with the older boys, or with Levi who sat to my left. “So Levi,” I started. “Are you excited for the new baby?” It seemed to be the new topic of conversation. Levi smiled, “Oh yeah! I hope it’s another boy. Even though sometimes I feel a little sorry for you since you’re the only girl.” I laughed and swished his hair with my hand. “I’m not the only girl you silly boy! Mother’s here too you know.”

“Well, yeah…” he said. “But she’s… a woman.” He was right, it was a little different. I loved Mother so much, but sometimes it was a little different. Much of the reason I loved Marie so much was because she was my age—a girl I could talk to and relate to in different ways. I loved Mother more of course, but Marie was almost like a sister to me. We talked about everything from daily happenings and work to politics and religion and everything in between and past it too.

I drizzled melted butter over the huge pancakes—Mother always made gigantic pancakes—and I listened to others talk until breakfast was over. Once Father closed in prayer and we cleared the table, the older boys went out with Father to start with chores. I hurriedly helped Mother with dishes and kitchen cleanup, and then I shrugged on my old woolen coat and a thick scarf. Tugging down at the short sleeves and pulling on some big gloves, I opened the door to walk outside. An icy gust of air hit me—I had forgotten how windy it had been the night before, and it hadn’t seemed to have died down any during the night. I had pretty much forgotten that it was so windy—Father and the boys had caulked the house so well when they built it those years ago…

My trail to the chicken coop was slightly worn and muddy. The temperatures were getting colder and colder each night it seemed, and soon I was sure we would have snow. The rickety door to the chickens creeped open, and I stepped inside the musty, dim little shack. After throwing them all some grain, I checked for eggs, and placed the eight I found in the basket setting there. Quickly then, I brought it back to Mother and returned the basket to it’s place in the hay on my way to the barn. I passed the clothesline and shoved the large heavy barn door open with both hands braced against it, then closed it again with difficulty.

The barn was slightly humid from the animals’ body heat, and had the smell of hay and milk. It was a favorite place of mine–I enjoyed climbing to the small haymow and writing there, usually in my journal, or else letters. I walked to the end stall–Fanny was the cow I milked each morning, as she was the most gentle. I was thankful to Father and the boys for letting me do her instead of the others, for I would often hear faint protests, or an annoyed yell after a clang which said that the beast had taken into it’s mind to kick over our profits. Fanny was gentle and sweet though, and I had no such troubles with her. Pulling up the stool I began, and as was our custom, we called back and forth to each other, joking or talking together. There would be occasional lapses though, and in one of these I started singing a hymn, and Seth, David, Michael and Dad soon joined in.After finishing “And Can It Be,” Seth started a rousing “Oh For a Thousand Tongues To Sing.”

Singing was one of my greatest delights–and although my voice was far from perfect, I absolutely loved to sing when I was happy, and I would sing. One of my most prized possessions was a beautiful violin I had received from Father, which he had gotten in his younger days, but had never really learned to play. His parents had been wealthy, and so they could afford it. I had no teacher, but played by ear, and all those who knew me claimed I played amazingly. It was a little hard for me to sing along with playing it though, since it was stuck against my throat. All this I thought of while milking, and I was eager to finish up chores so I could fetch my violin and play for the livestock. They seemed to be my willing and ready audience almost anytime I wished. Mother loved my playing as well, but the house became so noisy sometimes, it was easy to find the quietness of the woods or the barn to rise on the breezes of beautiful melodious sound.

After we had finished milking, Father went off with the older boys to work, and I again trooped back to the house. I wondered what Mother had on the list for today. With the new baby, I would probably be taking on a lot more of the work then before. All the heavy jobs in the house of course, and once Mother was farther along I would probably be almost completely “in charge.” The thought scared me almost–I wasn’t sure if I really was ready to be in charge or to have so many responsibilities. Once I got married I would have a lot more I knew, but that seemed far off in the distance, and I almost didn’t want to think about it at all yet. Sighing, I opened the door and stepped inside. Mother was kneading the bread dough while Daniel read to her, and Levi and Joseph sat doing Arithmetic problems. I was very thankful to be finished with that–I had finished last year, according to Father and Mother. They said I need not go farther, and I was happy. I still read though in my spare time. Literature was my favorite–thick books–tales of excitement. I loved history as well, and found it absolutely fascinating.

Mother greeted me as I came through the door, and I smiled and took off my bulky coat.

240 Down… 49,760 To Go.

I couldn’t stop shaking as I curled up next to Father under the woolen blanket. My teeth chattered noisily, though I willed them not to over and over again. Bets and Dusty, our two faithful horses, plodded quietly along, pulling the large wagon. Father and I were heading back to our home after a visit to the sick neighbor family, whom we brought a big pot of soup to; not to mention a delicious loaf of bread as well. Mother was busy with the children, and Father wanted to spend some time with me, so I rode along. It was a windy November night, and I was thankful to be near home.

“Kind of chilly, eh?” I glanced up at Father’s face. His gentle eyes found mine as well, and I smiled. “Just a little bit, yes.” I shakily answered as Bets and Dusty turned the dark corner to our little lane. A lantern lit the small window, and as we neared, a few faces looked out in expectancy. It must not have been too late, or Mother wouldn’t have allowed the little ones to stay up. But she knew how they loved to have Father say goodnight to them and tell them a story… A cornstalk story. I smiled again thinking of it. Listening to “cornstalk stories” was one of my fondest memories, and I still enjoyed sitting before the fire and laughing at Father’s humor and imagination.