Thursday, February 4, 2021

Post #280 - January 28, 1944 Today I Went to Ruth’s Graduation and Can You Picture Me Chopping Wood for Kindling and Poking Around Among the Coals?

 







January 28th, 1944

My Precious Hubby, 

Two years ago we took up residence at 4906. Remember the very first night in “our” new bedroom? God, but we were happy! I'm so anxious to relive that same moment—cmon’ sumpin! 

Your lengthy letter of Jan. 18–19, darn near knocked me for a loop in regard to your so-called “jealousy.” I can't help wondering how my reunion with Jack N. will make you feel. Honey, I do have to admit that I can't understand it, especially in you, although I have an idea it is the distance between us. Baby, if only when that feeling hits you, you think of my undivided and deep love for you, how I cherish and adore each thought of you, each word you utter or write, each sweet understanding act, you’d think differently. You are always the one to think twice, usually before you even feel, and I'm sure you feel lots better if you did. I assure you, I have not intentionally tried to hurt you, nor will I ever do so in that connection. I'm all for kissing and hugging you, and I hope I shall never make you feel thusly again. I can't stand knowing you are hurt. I love you so very much, Phil darling, mere words or actions could never really convey my true feelings. In a few words, “I am you and always will be.” 

Yes, I agree with you when it comes to baby contests. I never did like them. 

No, baby, I won't reiterate my words when it comes to our “next baby.” Have I ever promised you anything and backed out? You say I’d reiterate them if you were at “home” and in a position to do something about it. I disagree with you whole-heartedly. If you were “home” and things were as we desired them, I’d probably be pregnant right this instant. I have suffered bitterly, and naturally I intend to be more careful next time. Do you blame me? I probably won't for a long time, but there'll come a day, my sweet, when you can give your all. 

Harry and Goldie have not spoken to me in reference to their position in the house. I do know that they do not like or want the back room as as it is too cold (Mom goes to bed when it is warmest and arises when the heat is at its highest) but will have to take it during the warm weather when the baby is due. The room cannot be used for a baby as the temperature varies too greatly in cold weather. No, it won't be “difficult” for Goldie here, with all experienced hands, it will be very inconvenient. It just shows that you know very little in connection with a baby, as you haven't had a chance to experience such, as they actually are. As for being more difficult for me, I've got much more than I can conveniently handle at the moment, and I have no intentions of knocking myself silly. I am completely worn out raising Adele and I'm anxious to get on my feet once more. I'm always so dog tired and even after a good night's rest I feel tired. I'm really not strong enough for the tough constant routine, which routine will be finished by the time you get back. I'd like to start taking the Combenita Vitamin B-Complex caps again if you could possibly get them for me at $2.16. Not that I wouldn't take them at the right price, but I would like to buy a large amount (2 or 3 bottles of 100) and keep them on hand—at the saving. 

Harry and Goldie haven't given much thought to a name, and even when I try to suggest, they aren't too receptive. Anything with a “d” for Goldie’s mother, whose name was Dora. Daniel seems most likely for a boy—if it's a boy. So you think it will be a boy? So do I. 

I'm glad you were able to disclose that you are at a Fighter Base. Have you ever visited nearby towns or villages? 

Phil, I never cease being amazed at the similarity of our feelings. When I read through your letters, I to get that “glowing,” feeling closer to you than at any other time. As soon as I finish, I get back into my actual position, I lose ambition and want to settle back and be with you. I have to push myself to get started again and your every word is imprinted on my mind. I picture the day I'll “see” you again and be able to clasp you to my hungry self and demonstrate the extent and depth of my constant and everlasting love and adoration for my Phil and I get all warm inside. 

Today I went to Ruth's graduation from 2:15 to 4. She will go to Olney High. On my way to the school, I stopped at Ann's. Ricky's quite a lot, and much steadier on his feet than Adele. Adele could fall 120 times in 60 seconds—she's that unsteady. She never cries when she hurts herself, she merely rubs the spot. It's so pathetic and lovable. I've noticed that she calls me “momma” in the morning when she wants to be taken out of bed and then points to the door and makes motions with her mouth to signify her desire to eat. She always kisses me in the morning without my asking. I consider myself luckier than you when it comes to having Adele hug and kiss me. Don't, for a moment, think that it takes the place of your embraces; it doesn't, nor can I give vent to my feelings of love for you. It's a much different feeling—more motherly. 

Phil, she gets prettier day by day, and many are the times I've stared at her unbelievably, for it doesn't seem right to me. They change from day to day and each new trick or accomplishment is equally unbelievable. I always try to picture you when you see her once more. 

I finally managed to get your package properly wrapped and it will positively go off tomorrow. Do you want more candy and chewing gum? I'll try to send off packages regularly. Ruth has a few days off next week and I hope to get downtown to do some real shopping.  Ruth is here, and is going to post this for me, so I'll sign off now, with a hug and a long, long kiss. 

Your Eve 


January 28, 1944

Eve, dearest, 

I am writing this unusually early, while the boys are still at supper 'cause I want to make the movie tonight. The title—“Rhythm of the Islands”—I don't know the players. Sounds like a “stinkeroo,” but I'm not taking any chances that it might be worth-while. I am alone in the hut and just finished making a fire to warm the place up a little. Can you picture me chopping wood for kindling and poking around among the coals?—uh-huh—I didn't think you could. Anyway, take my word for it, that's just what I've been doing. You may wonder why I”m not eating supper tonight. I'll let you in on a lil secret. The lunch this afternoon was so good that after finishing it, I debated a while, and then went back and did it all over again! When you consider the size of the meal (1) you'll get a faint idea as to why I have no particular appetite for supper. Listen: 2 pork chops, mashed potatoes, coleslaw, string beans, bread, butter and coffee and canned sliced pears. And I ate all of it—twice. Oh well! 

I kept myself busy all day and the time just flew by. In the afternoon, two letters arrived—both from you, Baby. They were V-mail dated 11 Jan. and Air Mail, (3 pages), dated 15 and 16 of Jan. I've already filed them as there was nothing in them that called for comment. I did enjoy reading them, though, they were so cheerful and chatty. I think I am as up to date in mail received from home as anyone in the company, but that's not surprising; not everyone writes as faithfully as my Chippie. 

Just finished a letter to your Mom when yours came in, and I'm pretty well caught up with my correspondence. I don't think I owe anyone a letter. (Except Ruthie, I just remembered) I'll make it a point to get a letter off to her tomorrow. She has been more than helpful and considerate, and I want her to know that I appreciate it. All of which reminds me—the company is going to chip in to sponsor an orphan. I'll tell you all about it when I learn all about it. 

I'm looking forward eagerly to the 5 Feb. when I will meet Eddie in London—if all goes well. 

Reading about Adele made me think that you are never at a loss for entertainment. She sounds like more fun than a barrel o’monkeys—and how I wish I were there to join the fun! But reading about her is almost as entertaining. Nevertheless, that doesn't diminish my desire to see her in action one iota. 

The boys are back now and, they're making a lot of noise and distracting me. Besides, I'm just about “writ out” anyway, so I'll sign off for the time being. Au Revoir, mon cherie. A kiss for mon petite enfant. My love to all. 

Your adoring
Phil