Wednesday, Oct 7, 1885 Cold and Autumnal. It is a year ago tonight since my father had his attack. As he painfully climbed up stairs to his room tonight he said "I shall not be able to climb up these stairs many times more"[.] Girards family all went to her mothers today and he dined with us and spent the evening and sleeps here. Tom and I this forenoon dug up and removed to the garden the peonies from my mothers little flower garden in which I have seen her work so many times. I am going to abandon it as she wished to before she died because nothing grows well in it on account of the fibrous roots of the trees. It gave me many a pang to obliterate this little garden so closely connected with her, but it seems to me I have daily to do some such sad work. While we were at work a large bird flew swiftly by towards the barn. Not long after Tom had occasion to go to the Carriage house when he called to me to come there. He said he saw a large strange bird in there. One the top of the wood pile was a poor frightened partridge which I wanted Tom to allow to escape out of the open door, but he thought this refusing the gifts of Providence and I caught it and cut off its head saying it would be nice for my father. The instinct in almost every one is to kill these poor frightened Creatures when they unwisely seek shelter with us. I fixed a new ventilator in my fathers room and set out some bulbs and then went and sat by the fire in the parlor and wrote to Mr. McLasen in Canada, Mr. Farmhams man about the birch bark braid and also a letter to Fuller acknowledging the receipt of his check. A note came from Joe Warren to whom I wrote a few days ago asking him if her were still in the same place.