At Home - Oct. the 7, 1894
Dear Children, in far away Cal.,
As to day is a cloudy lonesome day in the fall and as I am naturally inclined to be lonely also, I find my thoughts are with you who are so cosily nestled down there in the lap of the great Pacific Ocean.
I was thinking of your as yet unanswered letter of recent date which we have read and reread with much interest, and how you have escaped the woes of Dakota of which you speak. And of your being in that fairy wonderland, of which Poets have written so much and Bards have sung. I also think of the coming winter that will be so soon upon us here and I fear that my thots are not quite as tranquil and as composed as are yours when thinking of your incoming winter. Well, I have been thinking of the changes that time is working, especially in our own dear old family. I feel almost startled whem I say old family. When I look back through the seemingly short vista of years that has intervened twixt the day we left N.Y. state in the spring of 1858, when we were young. Your Mother only 22, and I 27 yrs old with no children, to pioneer out a home for us and for the dear ones that God has given us in the passing years since. And Oh! the change. It makes me sad.
When you write or talk of the "coast", I and Clarence can fully understand just how it is there. For we spent 20 days during my first trip to Cal. in the county just NW of you (Ventura Co), at Sanbuenaventura, a nice little village nestled close by the sea. We have sat by the hour and watched the incoming surf of which you speak. One of which you say overwhelmed Chester, and by the way Chester, you must do as the geese did there at Ventura. As the wave came to them, they would shut their eyes and hold their breath and dive straight through them.
Monday night.
I'll try and write a little more to night. Your Mother says that Mary did answer your letter. Well, if she did, I did not know it and I think she did not tell you that she changed her name last Saturday and has left us forever. And we hope that it will be a happy union.
I suppose she told you that Clarence had left Florida and is at home. We've been "rolling" cane to day and it yields juice so little that it is hard to get only 2 strikes a day. So, we only boil the two each day, keeping them over night and boil next day.
The drought was so severe that we will not get 1/2 a crop of syrup, but a good crop of the seed which is ripe. We get the same price for the syrup as ever 50 cts., and a rapid sale. They come with their "cups" from far and near and go home with it rejoicing.
Our Lake is, or was before 2 or 3 late rains, lower than I ever have seen it - only a few patches of water out in the middle of it. We had good wheat and oats, and not very good corn. Our potatoes are pretty short but of excellent quality. We had some 300 tomato vines and they are all green yet. So are our later potato vines, as well as a little patch of cane left standing out south of the evergreens, south of cane works.
"OldDan", poor fellow, is lokking some gray about the face, and old. He has got so feeble that we think of putting him to sleep this fall, befor winter, as would no doubt be a mercy to him. It is like bidding good bye to an old companion as he and us commenced on this farm to clear it up nearly at the same time 25 years ago, when we were both young. He, 5, and I 35, now we are both old, 33 and 63. I passed the milestone a few days ago, the 4th.
I will now bring this to a close. It is now the 12th of Oct. and not all is yet killed by frosts. Cane all worked but a few loads of custom work that is not yet here. Poor yield, but good syrup. Wish I could send you the "keg" this year, but tis too far away. Somehow I can't think I would ever feel at home in Cal. It is so unnatural there. I suppose I will stay here and my poor worthless remains will be laid away hereabouts.
Good bye,