Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

When I returned from New York, I went to bed almost immediately with the grippe, which was later complicated by a bad head cold. Bertha shared this interlude with me, and with both of us in bed, Catherine felt it her duty to stay home from school and take care of us, which she did very competently. We have been slow recovering – 

During this time Mary Alice has been transferred from Bristol to Winston-Salem, N.C. So far her letters have been glowing with happiness over her new place, which makes us happy. When she is contented, her absence does not bother so much.

Nov. 27 – (Sat.)

Out sketching yesterday – I did not feel quite ready, but it was a bright sunshiny day, and I felt I had to snatch the opportunity when it came.

After much wandering around, I finally settled at a spot just above and east of Cowlesville, where I make a small sketch. The warm sunlight streaming from the misty south, lightly up the dead grass, and the faces of two farm houses, one yellow, one white.

(from Bennington)

I then drove eastward, and parked by the side of a road and ate my lunch (cold chicken, peanut butter sandwich, onions, fruit cake and coffee) after which I drove on, taking a road that led S.E. from Darien (towards Attica). I had not gone far until I was attracted by a large sand and gravel pit – a preliminary examination of pit made me decide to drive the car into it, and spend the afternoon.