A sultry July Sunday. Bright and still outside the garden and fields. The cries of my children below- sometimes of glee, sometimes of invitation – the swift buzz of machines going by. I discover a spider has built his web over my desk and table; from the extension cord to the light – what a reflection on me! I must put up with his impudence until I really do something – he must stay where he is until he is actually in my way.
At 10:20 baby girl born. (The long heart breaking ride to the hospital over bumpy roads in a Ford with Bertha in agony).
I missed the11:30bus to Gardenville and went out Seneca St. I missed the last car and walked over. A moonlight night. I tried to convince myself that I was not disappointed that I wanted a boy, but failed. Had it been a boy I would have walked all night.
Charles E. Burchfield, July 5, 1925