Rev. C.C. Jones to Mr. Charles C. Jones Jr.Maybank PlantaionLiberty County, GeorgiaMonday MorningMay 22nd, 1854
I do not think, my dear son, that anyone wrote you last week. I did not, it having been a busy week. Mother is always busy, you know, and has had company. She is remarkably well, and was never so fleshy. I must give you a sketch of her daily life.
She rises about six in the morning, or now half-past five; takes her bath, reads and is ready for family worship about seven; then breakfasts with a moderate appetite and enjoys a cup of good tea. Breakfast concluded and the cups etc., and dinner ordered, Little Jack gathers up his "weapons," as he calls them--the flower trowel, the trimming saw, the nippers and bears and two garden hoes--and follows his mistress, with her sunbonnet on and her large India-rubber-cloth working gloves, into the flower vegetable gardens. In these places she spends sometimes near two planting, pruning, etc.,
Little Jack and frequently Beck and several other little fellows and Gilbert in the bargain all kept as busy as bees sweeping, another watering, another weeding, another planting and trimming, and another carrying off the limbs and trash. Then she dismisses the forces, and they go off in separate detachments to their respective duties about the house and premises, and she takes a walk of observation and superintendence about the kitchen yard and through the orchard and lawn, accompanied by many friends she may have with her and who may be disposed to take a walk of a quiet domestic nature.
About ten her outdoor exercise is over, and she comes in, sets aside her bonnet draws off off her gloves, and refreshes herself with a basin of cool water, after which she disposes of her seamstresses and looks that the house has been well put to right and in point and in perfect order--flowerpots dressed, etc. She now devotes herself to cutting out, planning, fitting, or sewing, giving attention to the clothing department and to the condition of the furniture of chambers, curtains, towels, linens, etc. The wants of the servants' wardrobe are inquired into, and all the thousand and one cares of the family attended to.
Meanwhile the yards have been swept, the walk sanded, and Patience has her culinary world all in neat order. The two milk-white cats have had their breakfast, and are lying in each other's paws in the shade on the green grass in the flower garden; and the young dog Rex, having enjoyed his repast, has stretched himself at full length in the sun, and ever and anon rolls over and wallows and kicks his feet into the air. The old turkey hen has spread her young ones like scouts around her, and is slowly picking along the green, and the gobbler is strutting with two or three idle dames in another direction. The fowls have scattered themselves everywhere in the lot, crowing and cackling and scratching; the sheep have finished their early browse, and are lying down beneath the great hickory tree; and overhead and all around is one general concert of birds.
A short documentary about Bruce Riley, an artist who paints abstract wonders with poured resin