Friday May 2, 1862
The roads are so dangerous that we don’t even go to church anymore. This is fine by me. It’s very tiresome to ride five miles in a bumpy carriage and then sit on a hard wooden pew and listen to a man talk about our damned souls. But tonight we have more guests besides just Mr. Williams; the bald, round Pastor Carson, his snooty wife, and three grubby little boys which unfortunately sit on both sides of me. Pastor Carson also brought two of his slaves.
After a much longer prayer than usual by Papa, the first course is served. I stopped ringing my bell to rile Anna years ago, but part of me wants to take up the habit again as the only conversation among the adults is about the war, and the pastor’s boys are not good company at all. The two on my left are slurping their s
