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Erie, Pa.,
Sunday, Feb. 18, 1940
Dr. Gage relieved our worries today about Bob's bruise - said it would be OK if treated properly, so that's a relief. This afternoon we took a ride out toward Gerard but a snow storm came up and we scuttled for home. A quiet day  mostly indoors at home during which I have felt rather downhearted for some reason- probably a reaction from such an active and somewhat exciting and slightly dissipated week. Income and personal property tax returns are now up, to be a headache until they are cleaned up. It seems like it is always something- never everything clear sailing ahead. But if it were, maybe life would lose some of its zest- so what the hell! Everyone will be glad to see Spring come this year after a long hard winter. February is always the lowest month of the year, and March, while a wild, disagreeable month here, will be welcome because one knows it is near the end of winter's bitterness. Even ^[[in]] April, [[struck out]]in[[/struck out]] Erie is no paradise but the unmistakable feel of spring is in the air then and one's hopes rise with the sweet, intangible something that is in the air - the new life, the warm, lovely air that comes across the old grass and the marshes, and across the breaking ice of the lake. And the robins are coming back and one knows that life is meant to be good - should be, can be, and new hope and new happiness are born. Here in America we can thank God this spring we are in America. In Europe, the coming of spring may well bring a breaking loose of hell unparalleled in all history. The old world is in a tragic state. Why can't people live happily together!