During that first summer of hard work, Beulah had a spell of being sick. I recall how afraid I was, but I had to be strong for my girl. Many's the time I held her head while she got sick, and brought her soup. We could not afford a doctor; besides, they were 50 miles away in the nearest town in the mountains. I had been chopping down trees and went in to check on her, still dripping sweat from that hot work, when she jumped into my arms laughing. "Tarnation, girl", I exclaimed, "what's got into you!". And that really set her to giggling.
"What's got into me? Why, a baby, that's what!" I stood there dripping sweat and bark on the floor. She put her hand under my jaw to shut my gaping mouth and gave me a peck.
"Homer, I just called my Aunt Douty and told her about my sickness. She asked me lots of questions -- we're going to have a baby!" I swept her up and swung her around; she didn't notice that I was getting her apron dirty; I didn't notice I had swung her feet into a lamp. We stood there holding hands and grinning at each other happy as a pig in a waller, standing in a mess of broken lamp and dirt.

But as the idea of a baby sunk in, I froze. Our little cabin wasn't big enough. Oh, I could build anything, and there was lots of wood on the place, but I would need money for supplies. And a real ice-box instead of the cold cellar. And indoor plumbing! My God, I can't have Beulah, heavy with child, going to the outhouse in snow! Even taking a bath would be too hard for her, what with having to bring buckets of well water to the wood stove to heat water for the tub in the kitchen. And baby stuff. Yup, kids are expensive. And we hardly have any money. This is all my fault.
Beulah put her arms around my grubby neck:
"Homer, dear, what is it?" she said softly.
"Sweetie", I started, "what are we going to do? We need so much. I should have let you sell pies to the town folk for some extra money, like you wanted to when we first got here."
"Now Homer, it's all right. The apples from those scrub trees don't make good pies anyhow. And I understand why you don't want us trying to socialize with people, them being so hateful and all. Aunty says it looks like I get pregnant easy, and I can figure on having lots of little ones. She wants to send us money, says it's the least she can do for us, considering how hard Poppa was on me."

I felt funny, taking money from her aunty. But I agreed, for Beulah's sake (and our baby. Our BABY!). Beulah made us supper while I bathed. It wasn't even Sunday, but this was a special day. Over greens and beans from our garden, and some sweet corn bread, we planned our house. Nothing fancy, but big enough for a REAL family. The upstairs was just two big rooms. I would add a second bathroom years later, but never did figure out what I did wrong that it was always cold sleeping there. I lit a fire in our cabin's stone fireplace, and put my feet up while Beulah made a pie. With that spicy smell filling the house, and my darling knitting by my side - why, it just don't get no better than this. Oh yea, Beulah says "Hay", and reminded me in those old pictures I was already going grey, and she was looking ashy. I told her she looked SASSY, and still DOES. Excuse us while we get frisky.