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23

   With the end of August, came the end of summer and also an abrupt end to my diary until I picked it up again around December 1st. So the autumn of 1932 is largely a blank with the exception of three pictures of Rog in October in which he appears hale and hearty. My diary records a few items very briefly just before stopping August 31st. At Mother's suggestion, I took Willie out to dinner the 30th, following which we drove to North East on the "new Lake Road" and thought it beautiful--and it still is whenever we generate enough initiative to drive it instead of I-90, running along [[handwritten]] ^the [[/handwritten]] vineyard-lined "coast" of the U.S.A. The next day, there was an eclipse of the sun starting at 3:17 p.m. and reaching its maximum of 91% at 4:26. Because of the 9% exposure of the sun even at maximum, it was impossible to look at it, and so we had the strange condition of blazing sun and weird half-light at the same time. It reminded me of the 1925 eclipse of the sun in Schenectady which was 99% and deeply impressive. It had been an oppressively hot day near 90 [[degrees]] and a record, so Willie, Mother and I took a drive in the evening to Franklin Center via Fairview, one of our favorite rides. As the diary closes out temporarily, I write that the family is well, "Bruv" is starting to take codliver oil and orange juice and is the cutest thing imaginable.
   The diary opens up again November 27th and without explanation or apology for its truancy. Nana and Gapa had just left for Louisville after having spent Thanksgiving with us during a week's visit. Rog weighed seventeen pounds and was "the most beautiful baby any of us have ever seen." He was exceedingly bright, happy, affable and obliging, fussed little and always had an engaging smile for everyone. If you wagged your head at him, he would smile and wag his in return. He was full of pep and impishness. I note in my diary that "I'd give a lot to have a good likeness of him in color--it would beat any Ivory Soap baby all hollow." And Babbie was growing and developing and bearing out all she'd promised--beautiful, intelligent, quick-witted, healthy. Willie and I were indeed fortunate. We had just about everything that anyone could ask for that really meant anything worthwhile in life--youth, health, love, beautiful children, parallel tastes, friends, loving parents, a job, a future, culture, taste. A few days later at the office, I was feeling low over the general outlook and to cheer myself up again, I elaborated somewhat on the above. I reflected that in spite of everything we'd never yet really experienced want and lived almost better than ever before. We had Bab and Rog and they alone were worth a fortune--in fact, they were priceless. We were out of debt. We had a nestegg in the form of our stock, which was safe in our box and, although of no great value at the moment, would someday come back (fortunately unaware that some of it never would to any appreciable extent). My pay was small but we did have a job and the pay was enough to live on or very close to it so we weren't depen-