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Had a very nice evening of bridge at the Harris's tonight. I just had the feel of the cards for once and I knew I played well.

Erie, Pa.
Saturday, October 1, '38.
Put the top down on the Ford today and while the family was resting this afternoon, took a ride around the Peninsula, stopping along the bay and at the channel Piers. As always, the scene across the bay affected me very much - the city with its stacks and church spires and  trees and the faint hills beyond  - the water front in the intermittent sunlight, the grain elevator standing out, the old part pale brown, the new docks, the sand and gravel wharfs, the black machinery and blast furnaces of Perry Iron, the red brick of the GE above the blue lake and the sandy cliffs in the distance, Toy trains puffing along behind the ships at dock, white sail boats on the choppy bay. On the way home I ran over a little baby chipmunk and my heart rushed up into my throat after I felt the rear wheels bump over his tiny body. Later I nearly stopped to avoid some pheasants running across the road near the lily pond. The peninsula is almost deserted now save for the cars that parade around it sparsely to look at the beauty of its autumn scenes and colors.

Barbara and Charlie Reid came in tonight for some bridge and we had a pretty jolly time as usual with them. Charlie's hair was long and coarse and he looked rather peaked, just recovering from a bloating he got from an overdose of aspirin, to which he is allergic but didn't realize it till now. Barbara is plump and full bosomed as ever, carefree, spontaneous and natural. An Old Grand Dad 100 Proof highball pepped all up considerably.