Dear mom! 

I am sitting and writing in the summer house. A robin has built a nest here, and is a little used to me. 

Tomorrow I am going to travel to Decorah, but do not want to in the least. 

I have worked hard all week. Miss Solum was here Monday and Tuesday, we are not yet totally finished; but luckily she is not coming again before next week. 

Yesterday I got the ¾ from Ms. Afsted to Norway. Had to read through everything first, and that took a long time. Yesterday evening Mrs. E had the company of all the Fellands; she wanted Tulla to help, and then we were also invited. 

I went to Dr. Berg- he has a new, good radio- and listened to the democrats nominate Schmidt. Had to stop on the way many times. Health is everything but good. Sat there until half past eleven and took a taxi home.

This week I have not written a single letter. Don’t have time. Not for you either!

Tulla is especially clever. Stay as long as you think you would like.

Fritjof has taken his old newspaper route again as of a couple of weeks ago. Today he has gone to town and looked for shoes. He has painted the garage and learned Norwegian well; it’s late for him, but he will get something done.

Today it is sunny and wonderful weather. But it has been dark and bitter lately. We have gone out and driven twice, and one day I was down in town with the Ford. Ziesmer finally wanted to loan it again, and now it has stood in the window for two evenings, fine and newly polished so that it shines; he will bring it up today again, and then we will go out driving tonight. None of the children have tried it yet.

Otherwise I have nothing to write to you.

In the letters people are begging for help, it is either lectures, or help reading books, and looking through manuscripts. I’ll let the letters lay unanswered for a while.

Now it is close to dinnertime. I doubt you will get more letters from me on this trip. We are having a good time- if only I was healthier! 

Today there is a letter from Professor Morisson, who finally wants me to join in August. 

Frede Faate writes that he finally wants to come up and visit me this summer. He is a fine man that you would like.

Your old man-