Sunday, May 30, 1880 I am at home this morning. A gentle rain is falling and I have been busying myself unpacking and putting away some of my clothes in which I come constantly in contact with the personal belongings of dear Gertrude. I have been feeling more hopeful and cheerful for several days, but the old sorrow forces itself upon me here where there is so much to remind me of the impossible loss that has befallen me, but I am striving against it and begin to feel ambitions to go to work and to produce something fresh and good. I shall try to make this my aim and if I can only get thoroughly interested I shall be comparatively happy. I have felt that my pictures of the past year were not fresh and new. I have lacked enthusiasm and through that have failed of encouragement. If I can only strike out in a new and vigorous way it will be well for me. I am glad I feel the need of it. I wish I knew just how to go to work to bring it about. Wrote a long letter to Alice and sent her a sketch & description of the stone I am going to put at dear Gertrudes grave.