November 12, 1872
Many of the towns have gradually, changed faces. The once European-founders and their Indian and Spanish workers have been joined by blacks, Chinese and other nationals… The hard-work, to build this town, and state has paid for it with the blood, sweat and tears; and lives. With this change, men have lost their spirit to live-out, the hope-to succeed… The once illuminated, disadvantage has been put-aside in selfliness, is subsiding. Promoting-better ability-of the society has incurred the overcoming, promise that has affronted the once, heightened occasion and ridden it back to sanctuary, of reality…
Fulfilling the basic needs of rightful, life and founding the incentive, elaborateness of self-determination. Pleas, and passage, has left the dimension of forging-ahead, fostering and formation; to assess the bettered-understanding of plot; rather-than the succumbing, of ordeal… This in America, in California and in Los Angeles the now redeeming, belying the essential-purpose funding taken manifest; portraying, mercantilism; as managing natural-majesty; not the ‘focus’ of deserving, but better embrace, abiding…
***In bounds and bestowal, in the manner of all-America. We have arrived and adjoined in the same-evidence, which encourages and inspires; and yet, this, the proud-heritage as the earnest-attainment entitled, and undertaken…
End
Eight
Dear Diary,
I am very, determined to seek an degree, in philosophy… Pursuits as in studies of my-youth-at ‘Universite’ de Paris’…skills in clothing-design, social-agenda and commerce. It is time, I sought as to the ‘discipline’ of ideas… ‘Principles’ of human-discovery, and its-effectives. Sanctions of people, in immaculate-design. Interesting-in its understanding-purpose, in civil-justness…
***Resolute ideas, proving-values of men, and intents of men’s hearts, in visionary… In my younger-years, putting energy-in ‘valence’-training; of self-venture… Ways of valued-men. Impact, in-mind and mentality. Oracles, elaborate-in necessities-of-life, law and liberation; holding human-directives to posterity…
…Classes, with Professor Taylor, in much time-of personal-tutorial. Hours-imparting, guiding me in verifiable, accomplishment and baring. He is guiding-me, in focus and refining of rudimental-ratifications… Rules and responsibilities; in remote, relay. …His-insight and versatility is beyond, inspiration as in my once, timely youth and removed, reality… This is, the right-time to focus-on things in-valued, order. I observed in church, the great religious-thinking leading-congregations in the Grace of God and the proving-Power of His Lord, without conquer, but devotion in Promised-Hopes to those seeking, piety. …Great-prophets, learned, students and faithfully, granted; un-bowing to destruction… Embossed in venture-joined, assisted and earned; in benevolence. Enduring-of promise and postured-prayer, in-courage and enlightenment of mankind…
I willingly, incited these-issues in inventions, implying and enterprising; ties, and hold-ropes in-bridging, expanse… A wealth of growth-facets, furthering and vistas so collectively, in virtue. An impressive-individual, seemingly opportune and stoic. Not, caught in division or malfeasance… Perpetuity finds him in mental-glow and proficient, standing-upon every-stance in some pillar-of proving. He once told me how and why so many different-precepts could be organized in one’s mind. He says the eligibility-of opinion, in which thought, is hypothesis… -”If you-see things by ‘sets-of-acceptances’ and in conversing, obligation-to-issues, disappear…and the lines of true-meaning-appear…”- …Mental-lines, brace in your mental-conclusions. Of the ‘margin-edge’ in men and their-thoughts. The propitiation-of dimension, all-fall into place like ‘a leaf from a tree’… I thought this as a strange-moving ‘parable’; not simply, a suggestion but encircling-justness. …This truing, forms-definition in what I have been taught.
In enlisting, my mind has sharpened and made, more-acute. I find like a painter, I have a stronger-sense of ‘colors’ and ‘strokes’. The great-tapestry by many of Man’s theories in-thought have fitted-well, into ‘key’-implying… Inferring-ideas of dimension read and propounded-in mission, discussion and idiom in-proving. It is definitely, a graceful-framework. It uses all the arenas of understanding, standards and surmising. Differing-declarations, dependences and purported, digest… Men can discuss, in open-terms corpuses of decision. Prized-conduct, and policy deducing standing-logic in man’s perceptions, methodologies and mastery…
***
I myself, have attempted to delineate-leanings only to be struck by the infinite-bounds, of disseminating-men… The world, is the limit to which men have tested, true. There is still arrays, refined and adjusting; permeating the discipline that forwards-in position of every category. This empowering-station, moves greatly, thought of laws and assignments; defining-impact, unknown-before… In so many areas of science, politics and examinational, portrayal in referendum; unheard or unhindered, apprised in men’s understanding. New perspective-tools entailing, and encountering among all people… Truly, especial men occupying logic in its recourse, rather than its remunerate.
In all that I have considered the belief may find a universal law-of-man realized with academic studies and theme of thinking-theory. In this new era of mastery, mission and meaning precepts of thinking being the best-rationality, shown for advancing of duty. Man, will be a multitude, in modality. Assigning-model to mind, method and use-insuring best, abreast… As we end a decade of expansion and enterprise, war and advancing in state of focus, providence and provocation. I know the legacy of having children to follow after me, is a good-thing. Civilization is for old, and young. My children seek their-life with the help of their-parents and justly, guises of mentoring.
Incentive, quite in legitimateness and deliberateness in-all that is given, as self-assured deeding that good comes-out of traversing and trust. Mother and father, living-out lives in the shadow upon their-children. I trust and pray that united, in truest-form leads them to find great-success. Perhaps I and Will, are forces to be reckoned with against so many forms of demise… In living-proper, set-morale we have bonds-with our children in how we-see the world and how they see us… Doing as well as I could, in the balance of good swaying-in our favor and the belief in justness, against many negative-influences…
I look-back and see the many, mosaics and talents I’ve put-into effort to follow my-heart and conduct the concerns’ around-us. We can put-much decency in to the worthwhile, warding and winsome that parabolic: the betterment of all. If I was-to seek a bestowal of bounds, brace and bearing-little, in barren, misunderstandings on many sides, as I take-abreast the thoughts of advancing-men in precepts of auspicion… I can define my personal-standards of the realms of humanity; life, love and happiness in-edict. Many men I-have learned that their suffering, sufficiency and surmising; is the three-tiered adduction-in preliminary, by existence.
…You are not ‘just’-there. I ponder the greater-good of individual and demarcation in-society and the line between, works as the guide-bar in reality. This is the reasoning I-have learned as the union of self-and truly, superficial and substantive, of existence…
Genevieve Garcon Mc Masters Sch.
Diary,
~~~I am very, disturbed about what-has happened in a very distressful-way. He has kept it a secret until I found several-bottles of whiskey in his foot-chest. Where he’d usually, kept his tools. Maybe my preoccupation with other things, and the value I have left-undone with my husband. He has spoken-on how I spend more time with Professor Taylor. I enjoy the professor’s company but my husband is my world. He is the man I have bestowed my love-upon, and now he is in-need, without the aid I was bound to give-him. We have had a long-talk, and he seems disgruntled about how uncaring he feels I am about his-concerns.
I promised him I will spend more time and listen to his wants and needs. My-mother has said that the best-way to a man’s heart is through the forgetting of your personal-needs and fulfilling hi
s most-desires. I must admit that I ignored him and avoided his basic-needs, for my selfish gain. In my growing as a person, I have left-behind with the memory of being a childless parent, the obligations of wife and confidante. It would be impossible to know all that can happen in the course of time. Perhaps I will be alone one day and my Will may be a memory. As such I want to do all I can to give my husband.
Perhaps, the children have been my main concern, as I have been a good mother yet Will has had to go it alone and be the bread-winner. And I have even worked better than he in my tailor shop. He has only gold and the thankless job of surveyor. A job I have heard works in the bad weather and dirt and can be grueling. I have never really, noticed what Will does when working, I have ignored it as if unimportant, a dividing-line between Will’s right to respect and my total devotion to my wants and needs. The two of us will catch-up on what had been a ‘necessary’-complication. He spends his time either at home caring for our ranch, which he has done to take care of his family, and I, wanting him to fulfill the needs I have imposed. My father has said I am a head-strong women, at an early age. He figured I would be a spinster, yet I did not care; that I was my own women, and that it was superficial thing to worry about… Now I believe that sensing of youth, a wild girl who had to learn of life before she met him is a dear-blessing in his life and that he means the world to me.
So much availing and dedication for others, yet I didn’t see the issues of my own. As I have stood for advancement, I must be humble about the wants and desires-of others. Though, I look at the bigger-picture the small unseen ones may be as much important to me than the impersonal-posturing which maybe done, as well… As I began tending to Will’s ailment I have read of the condition known as alcoholism. A new disease that can lead to death. Our doctor says that I must watch him on a regular basis. And that the behavior is marked as a simple-distress of the station of loneliness, anger and despair. If I’d known that Will in all his-strength and effort, that I am so neglectful, my hope is to understand and heal his illness as much as I can.
~~~
My son Zack is a very, un-compromising young-man, has separated from his new wife of 2-years. He says she spends too much money and lies to him. I have requested that he sit-down and talk with her. He refuses and says she must come to him. She has been depending on him, meeting him at a bar as a hostess. I warned him not to chose a ‘free-wheeling’ women, yet he is head-strong and doesn’t qualm over differences; much like his dutiful heritage in his father’s side of the family. I am gentle with my youngest-boy, who adopts things to his-heart and never-expects to be let-down. One-thing, he doesn’t oppose the concerns-of others; wanting to understand that he has done something wrong. He has went far from-home, yet he is experiencing something of the reality-of-life. I could have saved him from life’s problem yet he would have learned nothing of living. I await, more of his-concerns.
***
I have a nagging-cough and will-see my doctor. It has come on all of a sudden, I have never had such hard-hackling in all my life. It wakes me up in the night and I awake flustered and more. My professor says he had heard of it before it is called: ‘consumption’, a very-serious disease of the lungs and can be fatal. I will pray and accept God’s Will. Though my Will is still recovering from his illness, I will spend my recuperative-time staying alongside my husband. It seems something that pains the soul brings the once you love together and gives the true meaning of devotion and commitment.
I will go to church, and spend less time working for others. Will is the stronger of us two, he is a gentle-man, quite reserve and understanding. Though he has a hardship, and spends time thinking of things, he-wants to do when he recovers. The doctor comes by and examines me to see if I have progressed but he feels the disease may get worse, under greater progression of the condition, people have died. He has hinted that I may be better at a hospital. He says there is a new clinic built several-years ago in San Francisco. It is a consumption recovery sick-bay that was formed by a Catholic service. He has visited the place as a doctor. It is especially made for those ailing…
End
Nine
It was November when I first seen my grandchildren who were born back-East… They, a full-six and three, and eighteen-months. Dressed in well-made children’s clothes that were well-kept. Lead by their nanny, the one who protected Patrice in the run-in with a thug. The youngest-boy had brown hair and blue-eyes, quiet and settled and very, caring; speaking to his Grand-mama and asking her for a cookie. He likes to sit, and not bother anyone. The oldest-girl is quite spritely, likes to make conversation with her-nanny. She trusts her ‘Nan’-fully, choosing to listen rather than speak. And the middle-child is outgoing and commanding, as if a sentry for his-family… He expresses-well and inquiries as to his grand-father’s condition. Following-him into the house and barn, he seems to be an interjecting-child, willing to accept requests and give-them. Their father, a tall, portly man, doesn’t seem to be concerned for them, he has a large-girth and speaks clear-English and introduces himself and is deliberate about his-concerns. He says that his family is Scotch-German and that they emigrated to the U.S. at the turn-of-the-century.
They have went their separate-ways… He is not a miserly, or sentimental man-preferring to sit-objectively, than show-spirit. I think somewhere in his heart is a man who wishes not to-suffer… Then there is Patrice, who seems quite at-home taking-care of and keeping her-family. She is not as outgoing as when I last saw-her. I used-to take her to our-kitchen and she’d tell-me all that she was thinking… Now she stays quiet, preferring to let-others talk. Her-eyes are solemn and she is very, committed I believe. By noon, alone after the men and children went to visit town, I and Patrice sat and talked, it had taken a few washed-dishes and some wine when she admitted her-thinking.
She said that she met Robert W. Schumer, at a party for her-boss. He was quite the-commanding, person he told-her that she was very, beautiful. Eventually, they went-out and he-told her all-his dreams. He had money and that he was tired of his mother and he was the last-one at home. She was interested, and then she met his-mother a demanding, senseless woman who divided her-time, keeping her son in-check and not-being, alone. Patrice tried to give her support but she seemed-only to divorce from thought that any-woman, was good-enough for her-son.
They were married, at a church in New York, and honey-mooned in Greenwich, Connecticut. Within the first-year, she was pregnant and his mother, finally, saw that her-son had his-own life; and that-if she wanted to be in-it she should take-care to respect his-wishes. Adaptively, they all grew-into, a simple-relationship. That’s when Patrice became a respecter of her new family-bounds. Intuitively, she knew that her-simple, girlhood had-ended, and that was that… I peered-into her green-eyes and could see that my baby had-found the live of her-choice.
After-conversing, and playing with our grand-children, and becoming acquainted with them. They will-go with me to church and visit-with me, would be proud, as am I… After-dinner and some coffee for Patrice and Rob, we sat on the porch and listened and watched the warm California sun-set. Rob said he had never seen it so warm, in November. Will promised to take him to the ocean and go fish. And I and Patrice-planned a trip to the seashore for the kids, which she felt would be a-thrill. Rob hinted in-a-strange-way, of an announcement which she said she couldn’t tell until Rob had okayed-it. So when we had prepared a luncheon and all chores were-done… Marky, Margret and David, and I and Patrice, all went to the beach on a sunny, Friday… As the salt-air blew-in and the green waves hit the shore a quiet-lull at 8 o’clock that morning, the kids played in the waters and our dog ran after. I and Patrice sat under our umbrella, and talked. She said that Rob had agreed, they would be-transferring his business center to San Diego by next-year and that she and the kids would find a place for her, until it was finalized…
I was so elated, I jumped-up, and screamed-for-joy.
The kids looked-back at us, as I gave my dear-daughter one of the hardest-embraces, I could. We-laughed and bantered the rest of the day. We were like as, in old-times. I realize she is now a mother-of-three, yet her family have been restored. I shall not intervene in her relationships; he is her-husband and they are her-kids and that is not, my responsibility. But in the next 8-months, we’ll get-to renew old-bonds and start new-ones…
December 6, 1873
Dear Diary,
I feel so happy, now. My Will who had suffered a great-deal in-both our contentions, has settled-in to Grandpa-dom… The grand-kids keep him sprightly, and going-like a watch. No-longer a depended father taking care of his children, but a gentle-old man, who has worriless, love and abundance. …He, deserves it. I spent-time with my daughter and her husband; at breakfast and at-dinner, in-between; I watched the children-play and frolic-having not a care, in the world. While I don’t feel-forced to work and can do so in my leisure I have limited-responsibilities and duties. I and Will, spend our later-years sitting in the sun, going-down to the shore and walking along-the-beach. I have very-few duties as part-owner/manager at our shop. I occasionally, pop-in to see how things are, check hems and detail or see that customers are satisfied and attended-to…