DIY History | Transcribe | Iowa Women’s Lives: Letters and Diaries | Eve Drewelowe's journals, volumes II-III, 1950s

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Eve Drewelowe's journals, volumes II-III, 1950s

Page 005

I have only mentioned in passing the love of my father for the out-of-doors and his joy in growing thing's.  But there was also an inborn pride in beautiful orderly surrounding's of sweeping magnitude. In this regard there is one incident which stands out so clearly in my mind - an incident stamped by the all too brief remembrance and relations with him. 
My father liked particularly to have the skirts of his magnificent evergreen trees sweep the ground. But Eve - small tyke she was - in an enthusiasm and strength of accomplishing - chopped down some of the under dead branches and other not so dead one summer afternoon. The chopping was done innocently enough in order to build a make-believe playhouse in the swept shade below and an adjoining tepee out of the branches. When my father discovered his mutilated pel trees he was very angry and with black brows he demanded to know who had committed the sacrilege. He was informed that it was none other than I wherefore he only said astonishedly and surprisedly, "Oh it was Eve!". No more was said. The subject was dropped for good no matter how badly he felt. Everyone naturally assumed that no great criminal offense had been perpetrated, despite the fact that the outlook had been sour enough not so long before, for anyone who could have dared to have touched the precious trees. And the small culprit escaped without punishment it is true.

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I have only mentioned in passing the love of my father for the out-of-doors and his joy in growing thing's. But there was also an inborn pride in beautiful orderly surrounding's of sweeping magnitude. In this regard there is one incident which stands out so clearly in my mind - an incident stamped by the all too brief remembrance and relations with him. My father liked particularly to have the skirts of his magnificent evergreen trees sweep the ground. But Eve - small tyke she was - in an enthusiasm and strength of accomplishing - chopped down some of the under dead branches and other not so dead one summer afternoon. The chopping was done innocently enough in order to build a make-believe playhouse in the swept shade below and an adjoining tepee out of the branches. When my father discovered his mutilated pel trees he was very angry and with black brows he demanded to know who had committed the sacrilege. He was informed that it was none other than I wherefore he only said astonishedly and surprisedly, "Oh it was Eve!". No more was said. The subject was dropped for good no matter how badly he felt. Everyone naturally assumed that no great criminal offense had been perpetrated, despite the fact that the outlook had been sour enough not so long before, for anyone who could have dared to have touched the precious trees. And the small culprit escaped without punishment it is true.