september 11, 1811 (wed.)

The Rev. Charles Wingfield, a neighbor who is a Presbyterian minister, held a simple funeral -- a few short words and prayers -- for Mrs. Carr today at the cemetery at Monticello, just down the hill from the house.

This summer has been a rough one. In addition to Mrs. Carr's illness and death, Mrs. Randolph, who had spent three months at Edgehill, had been quite ill for awhile in July, then lost the baby she was carrying, and all of her children had been sick, too. Here at Monticello, Mr. Jefferson's rheumatism was so bad that he was nearly bedridden, and had to postpone what should have been an early July trip to Poplar Forest until mid August.

Let us hope that we have seen the last of these troubles for awhile.

jan. 31, 1810 (wed.)

One good thing about winter is that bad weather makes it harder for unwanted guests to come. Ever since Mr. Jefferson retired, the place has been filled with gawkers. Of course, one has to be polite to them (although some are less than polite themselves) and give them a place to stay.

Winter evenings around the parlor fireplace with just family and maybe a few friends can be quite relaxing. Mr. Jefferson tells his grandchildren riddles, and tall tales about his own childhood, and listens as they tell him about the books they've been reading. There might be a game of chess, and there's always music. His daughter, Martha, and her daughters, Ellen and Virginia, play the harpsichord. Even though Mr. Jefferson can no longer play his violin since he broke his wrist in France years ago, he still loves to sing.