Curtiss, May 30th 1889

Dear parents and siblings,

I have received Kristian's letter of April 18th, and learned there that father is better and mother is as usual. I also read that she has been very ill, both of a cold and of grief. I was afraid she would be. I was very pleased to hear they were better. I have had a bad cold too, as you know, and did not get well until after I arrived here. I am well again now and bright and breezy every day. I have been here in my new home for a month now, so I can write and tell how I am.
We stayed at Petter Bekken's for eight days. In the meantime Mathias and Kristian worked on our house. They made a new floor, painted the walls white and put a new roof on the hallway. So the house is quite cosy. It has two windows. There is a low room upstairs where we store clothes and food. There is a window in the hallway. There we have the stove. It is big and good for cooking and baking. I make flatbread on it. I bake flatbread and ordinary bread every weekend, and some cakes too. Mathias has bought enough for me to cook. But then we need a lot too, as we are five adults. All of his siblings are still here. It is hard for them to find a job around here, as the women do their housekeeping without a maid. They have started knitting. They are sitting here spinning. I have also helped out whenever I have found time. We get 30 cents per pound. A pound here is slightly less than a skaalpund back home.
Kristian has been helping Mathias at our farm. Mathias himself has also been away working, as he is known for working faster than the others. Today Kristian has gone to a little town nearby where he probably will be working for a while. The Bjoernhaug boys and Kristian Braaten, who stopped here in Curtiss, are also still out of work. They have had some work so they can eat, but they haven't earned anything yet.
So now time passes slowly for the newcomers. I'm glad our Kristian isn't here. Time would have passed far too slowly for him. It's not only in Curtiss the situation is like this. We received a letter from Nils Seielstad. He lives in Minnesota. He writes as such:

"There are those who will hire a man, but they will not pay much for a month. A lot of men are hanging around. They will travel west when the harvest begins.
…
It's the time now, between sowing and reaping, that the farmers will not hire anyone. When the harvest starts, there will be enough work for all."

I mentioned that time passes slowly for newcomers, but for me things are different. I have enough to do every day, so time passes quickly. I do the cooking. I have a cow and a calf to look after. I have four chickens and a rooster. I was given two of the chickens and the rooster by a farmer called Arne Olsen. He is Norwegian and doesn't live far from here. He arrived here 17 years ago as a poor boy. Now he is a wealthy man. He was at our place with oxen for three days and did the spring work. Here they plow using oxen. I found that strange. They put a wooden bar over both necks and then they walk on command without using reins. They were two red, 7 year old, enormous oxen. They nickname Olsen "the govenor" around here.
Another day Mathias borrowed oxen from a Swedish man called Dalberg. Mrs. Dalberg has also visited me. She is German by birth, but speaks Norwegian well.
I mentioned we have a cow and calf. Mathias bought them from a German called Poulmand. The cow is a red 3 year-old who had her first calf this spring, but she milks like a grown cow back home. We got her eight days after calving. The calf was a part of the deal, a bull, red all over. Mathias gave $30 for them. They don't come any cheaper around here.
We were here for a fortnight before we had a cow, so, in the meantime we bought milk and butter from Jean and Kari Soerlien. They have three good cows and are kind people, so I was given milk too. They are Swedish, these neighbours of ours, but that doesn't matter, they are nice people anyway. I wish you could have seen Kari Soerlien. She is a little, pretty, forty year-old woman. She lets me taste everything she makes; several kinds of traditional cheeses and lots of other goodies. She also gave us fresh veal, so I made soup. And she has given me many kinds of seeds I have sown in the garden. I was also given three kinds of bulbs. Marte Bekken had told me, before I came, that I would have a kind neighbor, and that is true. There are a lot of Norwegian farmers here, so when one wants to visit, there are enough Norwegians to visit and to have visit. We have already been invited to many, and some have visited us, too.
Dances are held often. Mathias and I were at one, too. We went because it was close by and we were invited.
I know you at home wonder what it is like here, and I wish you could know, but it is hard for me to describe it so you can imagine what it is like. Picture a flat landscape, overgrown with woods, deciduous woods such as birch, alder and other deciduous kinds I don't know and amongst them pine and spruce. I say spruce because at a distance one cannot tell the difference from Norwegian spruce. Everything has grown tall and is green now, so it is like a high green wall around us. We can see but one farm because of the trees, and that is Sorlien. And that is so close to us as Moellerstuen and the mill house are at home. I overheard Mathias tell Dalberg, he is the tax officer around here, that he had cultivated 10 acres of land. I believe one acre is the equivalent of 4 maal in Norway. But then he still has a large portion that has not yet been cultivated. Imagine a man's work and toil to get rid of these woods. The smallest trees are removed totally, the largest ones are sawed off about two feet above their roots. Then they plow between the stumps like one in Norway plows between rocks. All the young farmers have such stump land, as it takes several years before these large roots rot enough so one can rip them out. In the beginning I thought such stump land was strange. Seen from a distance I thought it resembled a churchyard with crosses spread out. But now I'm used to them, I don't care for them.
I must mention the town, Curtiss, not so far from here. If I can call it a town at all. There are only two merchants there, and then there is the station, hotel, saloon, schoolhouse - which we use as a church -. I've been to the schoolhouse both times mass has been held, as it is only once a month, by a Norwegian vicar who holds quite good sermons.
If you will follow me home from mass, I will show you the way and mention the farms we pass. Several roads lead out of town. We will take the one heading north. After walking a little while we come to a German farmer called Fedler on our left. A bit further we have Paulsen, the Dane. He lives to the right. We were invited for coffee and cakes there after the last mass.
Then we come to a Norwegian farmer, his name is Oluf Thompson. Then there is Ole Henrum's farm. He's from Ringebu. Then we have Dalberg and Arne Olsen. I have mentioned these farmers in previous letters. We walk for another short while to arrive at a crossroads. Here the road goes east-west. We turn the bend and take the road heading west and walk for a good while. The roads here are flat and long. Then we come to a bridge, longer than the Volds bridge. This bridge does not cross any river, merely a stream. Both sides of the stream are marshy, therefore the bridge is long. This stream crosses our land. And what do you think I could show you? Yes, my new home. There you see the house, a little ways from the road, surrounded by green grass and tree stumps. Then there is the barn. A large building containing both animals and feed. The cows are in one end, their feed in the other. The barn is closer to the road than the house. There is also a henhouse by the barn wall. The henhouse is the prettiest of all. It is a square house with a large window. The garden is not nice yet, because it was overgrown last year. This year we plowed it up again and I planted potatoes, beans, carrots, sage and some beetroot. I was also thinking of putting some plants in.
I can tell you that the road continues westward past Sorlien. Then there are three German farmers. Further west there are four Norwegian farmers. They are all from Musdal or Tretten. Three of them are called Botrud and are related. We have visited them. In the woods below Botrud is Petter Bekken's farm.
Since we came the weather hasn't been much different from in Norway. Lightning has struck a few times, but not hard. The weather has been rather cold for a while now, so the grass is worse now than a week ago. I must end for lack of space. When you write, then tell me how you all are doing at home. Whether you have two calves and if you have got a pig and whether the cow milks a lot. I hope this letter will find you in good health. Give my regards to my siblings and relatives and everyone who asks about me. But first and foremost the deepest greetings to my beloved parents from me,

your daughter Randi

Mathias asks me to send his regards home too. He is still busy cutting and clearing to get more land in tillage. Write soon and greetings to all.
Greetings to Ida, and everyone at the Bergom farm.