A bright sun shine, moderate weather. All pleased to see a fine day, and every one busy in clearing away the mountains of snow. It fell one foot deep. I did not venture out. Mrs Bloodgood, came for my lilac poplein, brought home Louis coat, with new sleeves. Simon, engaged untill ten oclock at night sawing, and carrying in wood. The children spent the afternoon in the parlour, Julie’s cold is quite troublesome to her, she looks to me for constant entertainment as a relief. I bound my “quilted skirt”, sitting steadily two hours, gave me a pain in my breast, and shoulder. Amused myself in the evening with Miss Sedgenicks letters.
A deep Snow, every thing buried alive. The snow has fallen all day without cessation. A regular old fashioned snow storm met our eyes this morning, giveing a chill to the air, by no agreeable. Garret would not get up when the bell rung, he generally naps it a few moments if I will let him. We all kept quietly within doors. Julie, complained of a bad cold in her head. I attempted to make her a comfortable. but found it too great an undertakeing, put away in despair, the whole concern. Ripped the sleeves from my “lilac poplein [sic]”, and mended all Garrets old shirts. Put long sleeves , and pockets in Julie’s [every] day dresses.
A pleasant morning, damp afternoon , which terminated in regular, a snow storm at sun set. I went to Church in the morning with Garret, we were much pleased, with a stranger who occupied our pulpit. His text, were the words of David, “ I am satisfied when I shall awake in the likeness of God”. The solemn unassume- ing manner of the young preacher, and the deeply interesting matter of his discourse, riveted the earnest attention of all his audience. The congregation has diminished very much since Dr Van Vankin left, and the pews are really desolate We did not go out again, I spent my afternoon instructing Louis, and “Sis”. Garret, took two long walks, but did not go to Church. The children are all effected with colds, but not severe.
A clear, pleasant sky, but the storm has cleared off, very cold. I am anxious to get out for exercise, but I think the streets too damp to travel far. Dressing is a great trouble in New York, we are obliged to be so particular. I went up to Broadway, felt cold, my boots too thin for the season. Kept the children within doors, they all seem complaining. Bought 1 yd ½ ribbon for my lilac silk apron. 18 pence. The afternoon was cold, so I remained at home.
Overcast, with rain at intervals We were all in good health, and met in peace around our breakfast table. Louis, and Sis were striveing to recall their christening party, last year on this day. I sent mother two pumpkin pies to help celebrate her wedding day, this is the 37th anniversary of this event. Wrote a note to C. of all the news, lent her the last magazine. Bridget rode up to take a bundle of clothes for a poor family in Chelsea. Catharine, sent me some grapes and an “Indian Story, a poem called “Ontua”*. I read it through in the afternoon. Julie, is fond of reading, and delights in “Indian tales. She taxes my powers of invention daily, her favourate story is “Sally Brown”, the heroine a fictitious character which I pourtray [sic] to incite her to emulation. It was commenced two years ago, and still is our evenings entertainment. A firkin of butter came home to day. A barrel of apples also. A demi.john of delightfull port wine. Bottle of Olive oil. This evening I read a description of the pictured rocks on Lake Superior. they must be truly sublime. A wall of rock, three hundred feet high, and fifteen miles in length, presenting a succession of [eaves], arches, and pillars. To night Mrs Dr Mott, gives a splendid soiree to the “Prince de Joinville”**, it was described as delightfull in the papers. The Prince, has received much attention in this country. I should have liked much to have seen him, but my husband has so little “Yankee curiosity”, that he never goes to see new arrivals, or great folks. ———————————————————
* Ontua, the son of the Forest, written by Henry Whiting in 1822.
** Prince de Joinville; (1818-1900) naval officer and writer on military topics who was prominent in the modernization of the French Navy.