We have three letters from this month. In this year's correspondence her love of animals is very evident as shown by her concern abuot a Spaniel owned by person who cut her firewood. Her interest in the birds surrounding her home is also present with a particularly elusive bird mentioned once again in her correspondence. As with other year pages, images embedded in the text from the letter will include the first page of the letter or card and occassionally the envelope itself if it is of interest. All dates of letters are drawn from the postmark on the envelope unless otherwise noted.
January 17, 1962 Page 1
 Dear 
					Marion,
This will be just a note to say I 
					wonder whether you’re with your second cousin this Sunday. 
					She should be good company.
I suppose the leaves are turning color. 
					A few were turning in the mountains before I left.
Had a note from Effie saying Fate 
					died—and it was the day I left. 
					(I left before dawn.) 
					She is staying with her son next door.
Last week a Moravian young man, former 
					student, now teaching in Va., admired the clock. 
					I hope to visit his home, more than 150 years old, in 
					Winston-Salem Nov. 11. 
					That weekend I hope to go to an English meeting in 
					Charlotte.
The old clock and the Seth Thomas 
					differ only a few minutes a week. 
					That’s good for the oldster.
With love, 
Laura
(side note, handwritten after the typed 
					letter,  “The 
					picture was taken for the sale of the cabin. 
					Can you see Kip?)
					
Dear Marion,
Examinations are in progress. 
					I give my last at seven tonight. 
					Thanks for recipes. 
					They sound good—with nuts and cocoanut.
Meg, like you, was born Feb. 9. 
					And I think we’ll have to celebrate Bonnie’s 
					anniversary the same day. 
					Meg had no pups, though the Holts came over the 
					previous Sunday and brought rags, a rectal thermometer and 
					the like, for my use. 
					They explained my duties also—as they saw them from 
					their experience with Danes. 
					I kept Meg in the kitchen almost a week; now she is 
					out in the dog house with the other two.
I’m sure you did all that could 
					possibly be done for your mother, and no doubt she realized 
					that fact.  She 
					must have been much more comfortable with experienced aid 
					than she could have ever been elsewhere. 
					Do think of the good things you have done—which far 
					outweigh any chances of error.
I think you thought the Havana I 
					mentioned was in Cuba. 
					It is only 20 miles from here.
What is Mrs. Martin of Moquoketa doing 
					now?  How does 
					Teddy like the U. of Virginia? 
					If Mrs. Lowery would like a nylabone I’ll send one. 
					My dogs seldom chew them—and I bought three large 
					“bones.”
Recently I saw a Spaniel in a pen with 
					four large hunting dogs, at the home of the man who cuts my 
					firewood.  The 
					dog’s ears were matted and he bit fleas. 
					I suggested the man take him indoors; he wouldn’t. 
					I asked the price; he answered $10. 
					The following Sunday I ran an ad in the paper and a 
					girl and her mother bought the dog for $10. 
					I hope he has a happy home.
With love, Laura
(side handwritten note as follows, “I 
					guess you and Lou will soon see the ????????”) 
					unknown word at end
Dear Marion,
For some time I’ve intended to write 
					but since I have a Saturday class rather often I seldom find 
					time to do my housework and correspondence both. 
					I sent in your gift in memory of Buster—we won’t 
					forget him.  I 
					know Brother must be cunning too. 
					I’m glad Brenda had a chewy roll. 
					One can buy them in pet stores or at Macy’s pet shop 
					in N.Y.  Three in 
					a package cost less (79 cents)—and since I have three dogs I 
					usually buy three rolls.
You asked about mother’s farm. 
					There used to be a fine house—built by her father in 
					1885.  During my 
					sister’s management, while my mother lived, it seems the 
					buildings were left unpainted. 
					Finally my sister said they were uninsurable—though 
					two years ago, though the windows were largely broken in the 
					house, it looked to me as though the floors could be 
					straightened and repairs made and a fine dwelling created. 
					However, one barn or corn crib burned and all the 
					buildings were finally carried away for lumber the tenant 
					could get.  
					Unless one lives in a house, it is hard to keep a place in 
					repair.  My niece 
					and her family come the 14th and will probably 
					ask to buy my share, which my sister asked to buy earlier. 
					I think land is far more valuable than cash in the 
					bank.
The valuable letters you are 
					discovering should be filed in some library if you are 
					willing to part with them. 
					I hope your task of sorting is soon over, for it must 
					be a very sad duty. 
					However, with the snow on the ground outside, and a 
					pleasant fire inside, you were probably not tempted to stray 
					away from the work.
Yes, Mr. Hunt is still here. 
					He was in Damascus two years, teaching, but has 
					returned.  His 
					wife has arthritis in the hands so it is difficult for her 
					to lift a coffee pot. 
					I’d asked her to pour at a Coffee Hour of the 
					department, but she had to decline.
The woman teacher who has Parkinson’s 
					disease seems to have discovered a “cure.” 
					I saw her on the campus the other evening and gave 
					her a ride home.  
					She went to Gainesville and had injections, which stopped 
					the shaking (except in cases of extreme excitement) and has 
					allowed her to continue her work. 
					However, her right hand was partially paralyzed 
					before the treatment, and she uses that only with 
					difficulty.  She 
					has an electric typewriter. 
					It seems a small dose of medicine dried up the fluid 
					at the base of the brain—so no operation will be 
					needed—unless in ten years or so the medicine will not be 
					effective—as I understand it. 
					She said people who had flue in 1981 seemed to be 
					susceptible to the disease. 
					There are things she can’t do, as cutting steak at 
					the table, but she is pleased to know she can manage and 
					that she has no pain—she recalls a friend in agony with 
					arthritis.  
					(Stevie, too, seems to have arthritis in the knees, so she 
					can hardly walk.)
Thank you for asking me to visit this 
					summer.  I plan 
					to spend it in the mountains—though I would like to see you. 
					Won’t you and Lou come down? 
					Couldn’t someone stay in your house a week or two? 
					My car is 11 years old and I have three dogs, and Meg 
					will probably be bred in May, so her pups should come in 
					July.  Also, 
					since we go on the trimester system, the year begins the day 
					after Labor Day.  
					(And next summer we won’t be free until the middle of June, 
					I think).
In the mountains I hope to make a lily 
					pond near the house, after I have diverted the course of the 
					stream.  Also, I 
					want to reorganize two courses, so I’ll have to read a 
					number of books.
I do hope the snow has vanished so the 
					deer can be safer than they were. 
					I didn’t understand where telephones had removed to 
					save money.  
					(handwritten note here “the warden’s quarters?”, the 
					previous sentence must have referred to removal of a game 
					warden’s quarters by the telephone company)
Bonnie was out barking at something in 
					the grass—perhaps a snake—so I went out and brought her in. 
					She is now lying in the sunshine on the couch beside 
					me.  She tries to 
					lick my face when I lower my head.
Someone suggested that instead of 
					government supervision of laboratories the veterinarians 
					should be supervise. 
					I’m not sure they’re always humane—though the one who 
					wrote the book you mentioned likely is. 
					A student was telling me about Dr. Lee, who often 
					takes care of my dogs. 
					It seems he was telling some men in his office how he 
					hunted bear—by setting a trap so it’s foot was wounded and 
					he could track it. 
					He was telling it in a matter-of-fact way, the 
					student said.
You mentioned the Phillips were in 
					Sarasota. If they come through here, I’d like to see them. 
					Some people from the mountains live in Sarasota (the 
					former Park Ave.—Wall St. man).
I do hope the bluebirds don’t vanish 
					from the earth.  
					The cuck-wills-widow comes in the spring, to stay half a 
					year.  One night 
					Bonnie was still roaming and barking when the bird called at 
					twilight.  
					Another hunting dog was also prowling. 
					For a few nights I missed the sound of the bird, but 
					this morning I hear it further off.
Tomorrow, with grocery stamps, I’m 
					going to get a folding steel-frame cot covered with plastic, 
					to take to the mountains. 
					If you and Lou and Brother come, there will be beds 
					for all.  I do 
					hope you can.
With love,