Clear but windy. I rise early, but feel drowsey. I overtaxed myself yesterday. Age is laying its heavy hand on me, as my increasing years tax my vigor. I find myself reflecting on the past too much, this is not good, yet it affords me pleasure that I made some small accomplishments in the various departments of life. Death of old Mrs. Caesman, a German, died milking her cow. She was a vender of fruits in season, a cheerful woman, but poor. Was quite a fixture in our town, and will be missed.