Sunday, 13th January, 1867

One of the worst days I ever witnessed. It is now pouring down rain upon the thick sleet and deep snow already on the ground, and so cold that I can’t tell how rain can fall without freezing. We all spend the day within doors, except occasionally the boys go out to attend to feeding and bring in wood. I laid my plans yesterday as regards some little domestic concerns. Nan presides in the dining room this week. She has done very well today. For the beginning, had an excellent peach and pear roll for dinner, as well as some delightful soup, besides other things. I went out to feed my fowls about 12 o’clk. and John kept up a roar of laughter in the kitchen at my slipping about on the sleet trying to make my way to the hen house. The house has been quiet today, all hands are engaged in reading. Tom went to visit his Mama, although the rain was falling fast, after dinner. Pigeo copied some poetry. I’ve spent the day reading and thinking mostly of the absent, sometimes sad, but hope all things may be for the best.