Keeping house at last; moved last week. The cabin is back from the river, with big cottonwoods trees in front. The wind in the tree tops keep up a constant sing-song. The cabin is 12 by 12 feet, with a fireplace made of sticks daubed with mud. My bed is a curious affair. Sticks with crotches are driven in the ground, and then limbs laid acrost, and resting at the head on one of the logs of the house. Then poles are put acrost, and the tick, and so my bed is fashioned.
Along one side I have stretched the double blanket, shawl, and the single shawl acrost the end. It is very nice, but a warm place to sleep. Cook in the fireplace. Have a dutch oven, a skilet, teaketle, and coffeepot. When Philip batched, he had a kettle in which was water and flour, hanging up out side the house, when he wanted biscuits, he poured of the sour water. Now we have yeast bread, and dont need anything of the kind.
Mrs. Lane told me how to make pie out of sorrel leaves—or wild oxalis. The kind that has a purple flower. I could not find any, and as the crust was made, I patted it flat, and made a crumb pie, which I knew Philip would like.
*(kansasmemory.org, Kansas State Historical Society, copy and reuse restrictions apply)