Monday, Oct 4, 1880 Went to the Strand to the mail. As I was coming up Union Ave a horse ran away and threw a man out bruising his head considerably. Found out that the grading of Chestnut St. referred only to a small portion of it out near the cemetery. They are picking the apples of which we have an immense crop. We have given away bushels of them but now the rest are to be made into vinegar. The weather is windy and dry and not inspiriting to me. I wish we would have a long rain. The wells and streams are drying up. Out on the Neversink the trout are dying. I have tried to paint a little today but could not do much. I am worrying over my water color which does not please me. I think I will begin a new one. With a strong feeling of necessity to produce something, I seem unable to do it. I am unhappy, unhappy. I read over some of my diary of 1872. Of our Christmas time when we were all here together. How different it all was then, but even then I thought it would not always be so. I dreamed last night that Gussie suddenly appeared to me and called me "ma chere" and it startled me and I said to her "that for a moment I thought it was Gertrude.["] I know I awoke feeling as though I had heard the sound of her voice.
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