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19

We played out in the kitchen with a fire in an old cast iron coal stove, black as pitch outside, no sound but the roar of the waves on the icy beach, and the rustle of the wind through the bare branches of the trees which overshadowed the cottage

The following day we drove to the Public Dock and watched the wild ducks on the Bay and what a gay, carefree life they had. There were no business cycles to worry them--just fish in the water and spring in the air! And that was all they appeared to care about. I wondered why we humans couldn't live more like that. 

Spring came and went and summer came on. Nana and Gapa spent July with us while Mother went to Chautauqua. I took the last two weeks in July for my vacation. Willie and Bab and Rog were all well. Things were slow at the office but the market was booming for a change and a cheerful attitude had replaced the melancholy of a few months back. One day in early August, I repaired to the beach by myself and lay there in the sand beneath a blazing sun, looking out over the sparkling water of the lake, greenish-blue stretching away to a pale-blue horizon. The gulls were soaring and calling. The waves washed in over the sandy shore. I knew life was good and could be better. I felt good again and was more anxious than ever to live fully and well. I knew that I had to get a firm grip on my tiller and move ahead for Willie and Babbie and now for Brother, who was proving to be an added blessing and a notable addition to our household, some hint of which may be gained from his photos which are included here.

A few days later, I continued my philosophizing along the lake near the GE picnic grove where I'd gone for a walk for the first time in many months. The scene was as appealing as ever with the blue-green water shimmering away to the azure sky. The Peninsula in the distance ran out into the lake in the mid-summer haze. A white steamer with scarlet stack plowed off toward the horizon. The waves sloshed along the rocky shore, churning and bubbling dazzlingly white in the sunshine. I sat in a little cove at the foot of the high, vertical bank of gray shale and reflected about life and how it ought to be lived. It seemed to me that I should know enough about living by that time to be able to realize a superior performance. I'd spent thirty years learning how to live and now I should spend the rest of my life living the way I'd learned was correct. It seemed obvious that one couldn't "beat the rap," couldn't lead a sloppy, slipshod existence and expect to find happiness. One of the most important parts of the game I wanted to develop was to [[underline]] do[[/underline]] the things that I really wanted to do like writing, painting, thinking original thoughts, having opinions and good reasons for them, being a pusher and a thinker in my profession and not merely a "yes-man." I returned to the office from my communion beside the lake feeling a lot better about the future--I always did.