"Wet May so far.  Rivers slightly out of bank over low land.  Backed a little over my land but did not flow across so it did more good than harm.

Was at the Will's this morning looking for mushrooms.  Found only one: a morel.  Must have been a little to cold for them.  Gathered Sweet William and Trilliums.  Will sold the timber off the woods just over the canal hill.  The sawmill certainly has made a ragged place out of those beautiful woods.  After the hill walk the dogs and I came to the farm where I spaded and enjoyed roving around appreciating the growing alfalfa and wheat, planning and listening to the birds.

Nell Davis died last Sunday.  The relatives were here all week.  I was a pallbearer.  She was my neighbor, living in the cut stone house.  The old home will be sold.  The gave me a ladder, grind stone, maddock, post hole digger, and scythe.

Ella was given many trinkets and two pieces of furniture - one an old bureau of Nell's mother."

D.C. Richard's Journal
May 5, 1935

Editors Note:  As I stood watching baseball tonight, two men stood nearby and I listened to the following conversation:  "Your father-in-law find any mushrooms this weekend?" 

"I actually was out and didn't find a one.  How about you?" 

"Found about twenty.  Nights have been too cold.  I'll try this weekend." 

Some things never change.