December 28, 1894. Barton, Vermont. Cold. All the time.

I woke today to the sound of Caleb crying his eyes out. He was outside doing the morning chores and when he came back in his fingers were white. Ma knew what to do though. She always knows what to do. Soon Caleb was back to normal and fine. What a fuss over nothing. It seems like this happens every year. Ma says we must be patient because he is the youngest.

Later

Nathaniel came over yesterday for supper. Before he came Ma reminded everyone (especially Pa) to mind their manners. It was very awkward at first but soon everyone settled in. After awhile all the boys were playing and fooling around. Sometimes I wondered if Nathaniel even realized I was there. Oh well. I never did understand my brothers.