Mama’s back to cooking in the school and baking for the mountains. Today we took soup and pies up the hill, along with some tomato preserves and pumpkin spread. I like the smell of those pumpkin spices, it’s as if the holidays were hanging out a little longer. “Like the ghost of Christmas past?” teased Mama when I told her. “More like the ghost of Thanksgiving past,” I said, because we don’t have pumpkin pie at Christmas. Anyway, it was quiet up there today and Abby Mae helped us give things out. We didn’t have enough daylight to walk back up all those hollers, so people had to come to town and meet us at the deli. We made sure to drop off at Peet McCabe’s and Mr. Buford’s, and Granny Pritcher’s pink house, though. They can’t make it down without a deal of trouble, and their families have all died off. But most everyone else took food for themselves or their relations.
We didn’t have anything ready from Heart Threads, but as soon as we do, Daddy will take me back up.
Trail went back to the Army this week, and we were all sad to see him go. Mama held on real tight, making terrible noises trying to not to cry out loud. I couldn’t hardly watch, even though I was crying, too. But Trail said he won’t be sent back to the desert so soon, and his “hitch” is up in three months. Then he’s coming back to help Geoff and Daddy in the workshop. Trail can play the strings off a banjo! We had a good time singing the night before he left. Just another reason I hate January, Diary. :^(