Journal entry by Al Negstad — 22 minutes ago
WOW! Snow and water, snow and water...that was the scene all the way from Minneapolis to The Little House on the Prairie. This winter was similar to that of '68-69. My dad died in March of '69 and I remember flying home for the funeral via North Central Airlines and seeing all the snow. Joanne entered the hospital in Mohall, N.D., April 9, to give birth to L. The snow had not yet begun to melt but then the temperature suddenly soared into the 70s and when she was discharged 5, days later the snow was gone and so were most of the bridges in the county. Fortunately the thaw has not been so rapid this year.
When I arrived at the Little House today I had to shovel my way in. I was last here the first week of January. All is in order; the furnace works, as does the sump pump so no frozen pipes nor water in the basement. Joanne's chair, the twin to the recliner in the condo, the one which I purchased for $20.00 on a farm sale, sits empty reminding me of the presence of absence.
Joanne loved coming to S.D., the Little House, time with family, reading in her chair... Perhaps those are some of the reasons that she wanted to be buried here. Tomorrow I'll see if I can get through the snow to her grave.
Blessings,
Al
Pictured is the Little House in the snow.
When I arrived at the Little House today I had to shovel my way in. I was last here the first week of January. All is in order; the furnace works, as does the sump pump so no frozen pipes nor water in the basement. Joanne's chair, the twin to the recliner in the condo, the one which I purchased for $20.00 on a farm sale, sits empty reminding me of the presence of absence.
Joanne loved coming to S.D., the Little House, time with family, reading in her chair... Perhaps those are some of the reasons that she wanted to be buried here. Tomorrow I'll see if I can get through the snow to her grave.
Blessings,
Al
Pictured is the Little House in the snow.
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