Writing Assignment for 9/11/2009

Pioneer Woman’s Journal
June 15, 1889
I hope that Barry did not see the look on my face when he pulled up to our new home today. He had told me that he had built us a Soddy but I really had not understood what that mean. Back in Ohio all of the homes were made of wood. Barry had written that there was not enough trees on the prairie to built our home out of logs and the price of cut lumber was just beyond their means right now. It had never occurred to me that what he was talking about was that our house would be built of dirt and the root system of the prairie grasses. Even the roof was made of sod.
I guess it is not to bad he had white washed the inside in some way that made the walls look like they were not made of dirt. Barry had spent a little of the money they had received in wedding gifts to make four windows that had glass window panes. The windows did let in some much needed light. She had material in her hope chest that would make wonderful curtains. She looked around the place that would be her home. It was really just one large room with a curtain hung to divide the sleeping quarters, at the back of the house, from the rest of the house. There was a few pieces of homemade furniture.
She would adjust to this new form of house. She was so happy to finally be Mrs. Barry Kirkpatrick that nothing could really upset her happy mood. She had felt so lonely the year they had been apart while Barry came west and located and filed on their homestead. Then he had to plant their first crop and build the soddy before he could return to marry her and bring her to their new home. The train ride from her family’s home place in Ohio to Omaha had been an adventure. Then in Omaha he retrieved the team and wagon he had left at a stable. The drive to their homestead had taken three days and sleeping out on the prairie was fun, but a little uncomfortable.
I had a chance to sit for a short while before I would have to begin cooking supper. I thought about the family Barry had introduced me to earlier that day. They were the closest neighbors. The man had spoken with Barry and a slender quiet woman with washed out blonde hair gathered five small children around her simple cotton dress. I also noticed that she was obviously pregnant again. What struck me the most though were her eyes, they just seemed to stare off into space and were void of any expression of life or interest. I found those eyes very unsettling and yet I want to learn more about the woman.
I have to stop writing now as I must get supper.

July 4, 1889
What a wonderful time I have had today. In celebration of our country’s independence Barry did not work in the fields today and instead we had a picnic down by the river, actually it was not much in the way of a river. The Niobra river was wide but shallow. After our picnic we picked Buffalo berries and crab apples from the bushes and trees that grew along the riverbank. I’ll use these to make some jam. I’m glad that I had Barry pick up some pint jars along with the box of quart jars I had him pick up the last time he went to Gordon. Gordon is the largest town and the closest railroad station.
As we came home from our picnic Barry stopped by our neighbor’s place. Here there had been no picnic or holiday celebration. In fact, every thing looked the same as when they had stopped by back in June. The only thing that had changed was the woman’s stomach was much larger now and it appeared to my untrained eye that she was surely about to deliver that baby. The other five children still clung to her skirt and were just as dirty and wide-eyed as before. I again notice the strange vacant stare of the woman. There was also no welcoming invitation to come out of the sun into the cool confines of their Soddy. I had overlooked that lack of courtesy the last time we visited. I wished I had more time to visit with the woman. Maybe once I get the jam made I’ll ride over for a visit. Barry showed me how to hitch up the team but I much prefer the small mare saddle horse he has brought back a few weeks ago. He said that way I could help him move cattle (what few we had).

August 5, 1889
What a night. Shortly after dark while I was still finishing up the dishes our neighbor came pounding at the door asking if I would come and help his wife. He said that her time had come and she seemed to be having some problems. I was not really sure I could help. I told him that I really had not seen many babies born and would most likely be in the way but he was so insistent that I finally agreed. Barry saddle my horse and I followed the man to his house. Inside their Soddy things were not nearly as cozy as they were in my own little sod house but I assume that with the baby coming the woman most likely had not been able to keep it clean. The five children sat huddled at the crudely made table, all wide eyed and scared looking. The woman lay moaning on the bed behind the blankets that served as a divider. I tried to assist her as best I could but am afraid that I was really not much help. I was able to heat water and clean the baby off when it finally came. I also bathed her down before I placed the baby in her arms. She place the child to her breast almost like it was nothing and then they both drifted off to sleep. After a short while I picked the sleeping baby up and place it in it’s cradle beside the bed and quietly left. What was so very unsettling was that through the whole ordeal no one said anything except me. Even when I left the man did not say goodbye or even thank you. I had such an unsettling feeling as I left that house. I can’t quite put my finger on it but the place just has a forlorn, sadness about it.

November 5, 1889
I have not written for months now because I have been so busy with harvesting and canning the produce from my small vegetable garden. Then I helped Barry lay in some extra hay for the cattle for the winter. Then helped him harvest wheat. Men from several nearby dryland farms came to help and Barry went and helped them. But the real reason I am writing now is that I just need to get my thoughts down on paper so maybe they will quit running around in my head. Three days ago Barry came home with very disquieting news. He stated that the farm next door would likely be go back to the government because the man was leaving. When I asked about his wife and children Barry said that they were dead. He told me that the woman had killed all six of her children and then herself. He said that sometimes people just go crazy out here on the prairie land. The isolation and loneliness just got to some people. When he talked about this I thought of the woman’s strange eyes and wondered if that was an indication of how she felt. It has been very unsettling for me. I have sometimes felt so alone when Barry was away over night going to town or helping out another farmer. It scares me a little, wondering if I too might succumb to the loneliness of the prairies.