A bright beautiful morning but more snow on the mountains than I have seen before the past winter. Sara and I went to the cemetery. I wanted to see how the early spring visited Gertrudes last resting place and to give the man in charge of the cemetery instructions about some work I want done. He is to make a flower bed of Gertrudes grave bordered with turf and I am going to plant Petunias there. Also a little circular bed about the small hickory tree where I shall plant morning glories and sweet peas. We could hardly realise as we stood weeping there that that dear woman I loved so well was sleeping below. While we were there Sam CoyKendall and Joe Carnell came along and walked home with us. Called over with them to see John McEntee. He thinks he will have to leave my house and I very much regret it. Julias house is vacant and he cannot rent it. I wrote him a note telling him if the rent made any difference he could remain in my house at his own price until he rented or sold Julias house. I never have felt Gertrudes loss more keenly than I have during this visit home. I missed her every movement and was overwhelmed with a sense of loneliness and desolation. I wrote to Lucy and to Gussie.