A fine Christmas season – all of us more or less well, and happy, a spirit of peace and contentment.
I am going to buy a book, and write in it various headings, and at times I will open it and whatever the heading suggests to me there will I write the thought.
The sun is so low-down that Main Street at noon is like some valley or shallow canyon into which sunlight never looks, [except] three chinks in the walls...
"...Later my room was changed to one on the south, where out over the fields & woods, I could watch the play of sunlight in the clouds...or seeing the Elysian Fields in the landscape outside."
Finished packing the picture and took it to the airport.
At nightfall a slow-moving mass of dappled clouds gradually obscured the brilliant silver moon-sliver like soggy ice floating in a February creek wipes out the sun-sparkles –
Working on some shelves for the children’s playroom – which I decorated with primitive designs, and on one side a panel of twelve pictures representing the months –
I do not know whether it is because I know the earth has commenced to swing back towards the sun, but today the brilliant watery sunshine seemed like a mid-winter spring...
Cold—sunny—scarcely a trace of snow—to city line for green vegetables and a ball-point pen for Bertha — All day on decorations—setting up tree, etc.—
Today had difficulty dragging out the tree - had to let it stand for hours in the front room to thaw out.