March 3, 1742
January and February were good for us. We rested. Keara looked great. She was back to her healthy self. Erich was growing stronger and doing very well. He had already grown into a loud child, and he sure knew how to cry. Bianca was growing like a w**d, and starting to crawl everywhere! The kid ate everything she saw off the floor and ground. I had given up.
Jacob and Tom had gotten their screen pans made. The horses were ready, and we were packed for the long journey ahead. I would have liked to say that Keara and I were looking forward to this trip, but I would be lying. We were not. The thought of ten days in a wagon, with two small children, and then six months camped out next to the Orange River, was not appealing, far from it. I was actually dreading it
