Sunday, Nov 7, 1886 When we awoke this morning our eyes rested on a grim and wintry landscape as though a month had intervened between today and yesterday. The rain had turned to snow in the night and about one inch had fallen and the wind was blowing a gale from the N. W. and has blown all day. Sara and I still sit in the parlor. Tonight it is clear and still with the mercury 5 degrees below the freezing point. Fred and Annie Norton drove up with their tram about noon and took Sara for a ride and she dined with them at Johns. I dined alone and sat in the parlor alone and read until her return about 4 oclock realizing how lonely it must be for her here in the winter when I am gone. I wrote to Mary this forenoon asking them all to come up to spend Thanksgiving with us and a separate letter to Downing asking him. Lottie Anderson who is going back to Santa Barbara on Thursday, and Charlie called. Girard came in for a while this afternoon. I realize how absolutely necessary is companionship to me and much of my unhappiness comes from dissatisfaction with myself. I am too impatient, unamiable and easily disturbed and whenever I am I regret it bitterly and resolve to guard against it only to fail over and over again. Lucy and Andrews and Sedgwick, if all has gone well are well on their way tonight from St. Louis to Omaha where they arrive tomorrow afternoon when we hope to hear from them.
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