Saturday, May 16, 1873

Saturday, May 16, 1873

       By Time and Again Reimr (Ph.D)

Echj vel dot eifoch neenich fejeati. Zeen jeburtstag morje. Wot woh echj am jeve? Oda feleajcht sow goaw fa am downe? Hm, hm, hm, hm,. Felaecht en kleen baet rom speale? Fa am? Met am? Ha, ha. Dot gleiv etchj vood am eranow jefolle. He’s fifty-two tomorrow. I’m sixteen. Yet. Well, seventeen soon. Next month. He asked, so should I? In the woods by the old barn. In the ovenside. And I have to decide. I don’t have to decide. What will it be like? With him? Eva Zacharias. Eva Zacharias Reimer. Nice. He’s big.

Sunday, May 17, 1873

Three little pigs went to market! Praise God from whom all blessings flow! Now, I must not dwell on this in diary. In case. Maybe later I will erase yesterday’s. He’s so handsome! He’s kind, he’s big and he’s mine! Birdy’s in the yum yum tree, Bunny’s in the wood, Billy’s in the clover, Betty’s feeling good.

Monday, May 18, 1873

I met Rita Reimer today. I wonder how he ended up with that skinny thing? She’s nice and everything, but. I want kids with him. Seven plus five. Seven girls, five boys.

      

Tuesday, May 20, 1873

Today mother wants to plant potatoes and tomatoes. The onions are in already, as are the squash, radishes, lettuce, kohlrabi and cabbage. Watermelons not till June 1, and by then the first strawberries will be ready for jam. What for supper today? Fish. Mother said cook the jackfish and make the celery chowder.

Wednesday, May 20, 1873

Laundry, milking, cream separating, baking and then supper. I wonder what he’s doing today. Later I will take a walk to the barn and sit there for a while. He may show up.

Thursday, May 21, 1873

He did. But we can’t. He’s married. I laughed when he told me because I already knew, of course, and he looked so discouraged. I held his head on my lap and sang songs to him. Don’t cry little birdy, it’s going to be all right. I will never leave you. I’ll think of you each night. When you’re tired and weary, and she is weary, too, think of me my darling, for I’ll be holding you.

Friday, May 22, 1873

Sail away, sail away, we will cross the mighty ocean on the Charleston Bay. Sail away, sail away, we will cross the mighty ocean on the Charleston Bay. He’s talking about America and me joining him there some day, if luck allows. We shall see. I would love to see the new world. O for just one time, I will take the Northwest Passage and find the hand of Franklin reaching for the Beaufort Sea. Tracing one warm line, through a land so wild and savage, and find my lonely way back home again.