Monday night (5/21/34)
Dear Linnet:
Mother and I are sitting out on the porch, enjoying hugely our first rain in six weeks. It is coming in small gusts, with about a five minute pause between, which allows each rain to get way down in. Even our back yard, which is watered with a hose, has turned a nice bright black — and we didn’t know that it ever could be a real black again. We’ve been baked out, as close to the Lake as we are. The Lake itself is kicking up big breakers, and it’s a beautiful sight to see, looking way out to the horizon.
Your two postcards were here when I got home, which prompts this missive.
Sure there’s an agent at Murdo. What the story is, he’s probably got the station closed up most of the day. There is one train through there westbound to Rapid City about one o’clock in the morning, and the other eastbound at five thirty in the morning. He probably keeps his station open for those two trains, and for a little while before noon and some time after dinner at night. Otherwise there wouldn’t be a thing doing all day. However, I’ll check up on it.
Not sure yet just when I can send the tickets. I have been doing some work out on the side, which I expect will foot the bill, and I ought to hear tomorrow about when I’ll get my check for it. I have about $20 stuck away, but it will take about another $14.50 more. At the very latest, I’ll have them on the way a week from this Thursday June the first. Maybe I can make it a little earlier. Anyway, they’ll arrive in plenty of time.
Well, I took Mary’s suitcase into our shipping room shortly before noon today and wrapped it up for its long journey. In case you’re interested, it tipped the scales at twenty and one-half pounds. Then I grabbed a car for the express office, and out she went. They had just six hours before train time, and it might have made it for tonight at that. Can’t tell.
The stuff we sent wasn’t much in quantity, but a lot of affection went with it. Mother went down to the Loop on a blistering day — last Friday — and got most of the things. I had some odds and ends accumulated. We put them together, found out what was missing and finished up the shopping Saturday. Sunday we baked in the heat and did the actual packing. I believe that there’s a complete outfit from beret to sox. The shoes we just wouldn’t tackle.
Now you tell Mary that if she’s bothered about nobody knowing her when the train pulls in, to stand stock still the minute she steps off her car. With that white beret, blue and white sweater and blue skirt, topped off by a big grin… well, there’d only be one like that in the whole station, no matter how many trains were arriving.
It’s raining like the dickens. Whoops! Bet Gene would like to get some of it. Understand that it’s mighty serious with you Dakota-ites right now, and the corn starting to go. You may have to for for sudan grass and soy beans in a hurry.
Mother and I are counting the days like a couple of kids, and even my desk calendar informs me every morning just how much longer it is. Why, it’s almost like Christmas!
As I think we’ve told you, we’re expecting our gang Friday, to be here for ten days or two weeks. So Mother’ll undoubtedly be going too fast to write.
Wish you could come and have some of the fun with us. If we had a place to put him, we’d borrow Buddy too. But maybe we can save you both up for another year.
I think that the Fair will be better this year than last. The batches of clippings I have been saving for the youngsters which have been coming out to you prove that, I think. They’ve learned things from last year which will make this year so much better. The foreign villages with all their color, music and dancing will be the most fun of all, I think. I wouldn’t want to make any plans, but I think the best thing for us to do will be fore the two or three of us to go down and spend most of our evening in a single village, soaking it all up, instead of dashing from one to the other, and probably missing a great deal.
Well, I’ve got to get over to the library and return some books. We are fortunate in having a fine and well-stocked branch library just across the street, and I’ll get only slightly soaked as I run.
See you later!
Glen
Oh yes. The small bits of candy in the grip are for ALL the kids, and they’re Mother’s idea. She’s so sorry she can’t have them all, mumps, measles and all. Both of us love youngsters, anyway.
