March, Tuesday 1, 1864
First day of Spring—Laura awakened me for my breakfast. I looked out of the window and to my surprise, one of the hardest Snow Storms I ever saw was prevailing—lasted until 11 o’clock, when the sun shone out brightly. A more magnificent scene I never witnessed, the forests glistened like thousands of diamonds, sun set was glorious. It moderated a great deal, until night when the freeze came again. Laura and I spent the evening alone, except Beulah and Tippie Dora—buisy sewing. Laura just finished her ruffled apron—I am really proud of her, she sews so nicely. I spent the day in Tate’s room, braided one width on my white swiss—if my chest was only stronger, I would enjoy sewing, but oh! I am so weary—both in body and spirit. My angel Mother, you would not have thought your two youngest born could grow so indiferent . I pine for a companion, tis not my fault, she loves me not. My poor old Father, you are all that binds me here. Helen is to be married, they are all buisy , but do not wish me to share it—have seen no one, or heard nothing more from Dixie—