July 24, 1939.
My Dearest --
I just finished reading your letter that I received this afternoon - (that was the 4th time) and I enjoyed it so much, as usual. The one thing I can’t understand is why you didn’t get more letters from me. It seems I write nearly every evening. From now on I’ll mention in every letter whether or not I wrote the day before if I don’t forget. I didn’t write one Saturday but I wrote one yesterday. The only other day I didn’t write last week was Wednesday.
Well, darling, I was measured (height) and weighed today. I am 4ft 11 or 11 ½ inches tall (they just couldn’t stretch it to five feet) and weight 93 ¼ pounds. Oh, I’m really buxom now. I have to pin my belts and everything. But I think you’ll recognize me when you see me. How much do you weigh? By the way, speaking of being (or getting fat) I need my girdle. If I have two half decent ones bring them along when you come down, will you? I think of lots of little things that I could use from home -- then I forget them in the excitement of writing to you. I guess it’s just as well. Oh, I know one thing -- emery boards.
This pen doesn’t seem to work right. It hasn’t for awhile, unless i just use one the other hand. I guess it has a right to lay down on the job. Do you realize how old it is and how hard it’s been used? It’s over 10 years old and I don’t think there has ever been any repairs necessary. Maybe something I can get you another with the kind of a point you like.
This afternoon I went around to see the bunnies. Yesterday was the first time I saw them since I saw them with you. Then I saw the two black cats and petted them awhile. The surrounding country looks lovely from here -- how I wish you and I could explore it together! Wouldn’t that be wonderful? I miss the drives you always took me so much -- and it makes it twice as hard when you know there’s nothing to do about it.
This morning I had the nicest dream -- only I was awakened before the end. It was that you and I and Frank and Mariane were somewhere in a big auditorium and Frank had his Hammand Organ on which he was playing different selections for us; and just as he was about to play “Chloe” for us, Mrs. Jackson came in and awakened me to take my medicine. But that was alright -- I was with you again in my dreams.
Darling, you said that may be you’d be tiring me about the house. Indeed you don’t , I love it. After all if I can’t have the fun of helping I should have the fun of hearing how its growing. I should say blooming since your painting and getting all the trimmings on it. It sounds so swell. Have you thought of taking pictures of it? That would be kinda nice. I was talking to someone about poplar trees and they said we’d be sorry if we got them. There is something about the roots becoming a nuisance in a few years; and then there was an evergreen suggested as a windbreak but I’ve forgotten just now which one it is. I’m glad you’re putting a little fence along the wall - it sounds swell. About coloring the patch of cement on the porch -- I think about the shade of pink that young electrician has on the house he built would be lovely. I’m afraid if you go darker it’s going to distract from your brown trimming, but by staying a little lighter it will make your brown look richer. What do you think? After all you’re right there which is a big help you don’t have to use your imagination so much. I’m so anxious to get to our home, aren’t you? (Darling, just this minute I realized this pen is just going on 10 -- it’s really only 9 years old) I was just thinking it will be just like we are getting married all over again only we don’t see each other as much as we did nine years ago; but this time you will be taking me into our house that you are working so hard on and making so lovely for me. Darling, I can hardly wait. How do the iron bannisters look on the porch -- how are they made?
I got a card and a lovely handkerchief from the Greens. Do you see them often? Thank them for me tell her I appreciate her thinking of me.
What a letter this is turning out to be. I had something else to tell you and now I’ve forgotten -- oh, I wanted you to tell Mother I got the Cove News Today. Also tell them that because I don’t write doesn’t mean I don’t think about each of them but it seems our letter a day so far is my limit. I tire rather easily yet although I’m much stronger. But tell them to write to me when they can. No one know what letters mean to me. Talk about a stranger in a strange land!
Oh, everyone is great to me now but imagine your self getting awake some morning and on looking around find yourself in completely strange surroundings (I didn’t and still don’t remember the place previously) can’t or don’t tell you much. The only familiar thing was my bed room slippers. I didn’t even have my nightie or my negligee, nor even my wedding ring (which I still don’t have) Now how in the world did I get on this subject. Every thing is fine and the Lord has blessed me wonderfully -- and none of the drawers nor the closet is locked any more. I have full access to every thing in my room. (I think the above was a little touch of homesickness -- nostalgia if you please)
I must close now -- it’s about bed time and my paper is full. Goodnight darling, Sweet dreams, and a refreshing sleep. I love you so much, nothing I could wish would be half good enough.