Griswold, Iowa

Lt-12-43

Dear Kennie:

This is the third time I have started a letter to you, and I have had one interruption already. Wesley came to the house with something to solder, and then when I heard him lighting the blow-torch it would be “Willie can you hold this a minute” or something to that effect, and it was. For the last week or so he has been fixing the cribs and elevator preparatory to husking, which starts tomorrow, and every so often I hear him holler “Willie, can you come out here a minute”? Willie goes, and probably does not get back to a pan of half-washed dishes, or whatever happens to be in progress, for an hour. Well I am always glad to help in anyway I can but it surely does keep me busy. If he could have help outside, or I could have help inside it would be easier for both of us, but help either place is impossible to get, so we just do the best we can, and too often more than we should, but I am always grateful that we are where we are and can live as we do.

I have wanted to write to you ever since you left, in fact I intended to have a letter there for you when you arrived, but like many another good intention it went with the wind, not thru neglect or thoughtlessness on my part, but busy. If thoughts could be transmitted without putting them down on paper (and I wish they could) you and Claire would hear from me everyday. I wish I had the time, and ability, to concentrate and write the kind of letters I would like to write. Just now I am trying to write this before Grissly gets up.

Have put in most of the summer canning. Started in with strawberries, 61 quarts, Blackberries, 41 quarts, tomatoes, juice and all, 94 quarts, and various other fluids in lesser quantities, besides vegetables, both canned and in the locker, and relishes, sauerkraut and etc. It represents a lot of work but with our own meat, milk and cream, you can see that point rationing doesn’t bother us in the least.

We were up to Merle’s a week ago. They were fine and, like us, busy as can be. And, like me, has been wanting to write to you but hadn’t gotten to it. They had a good garden and 500 chickens, and they have lots of stock around them. She canned all summer and helps him outside, and when he was away combining and running the cornhusker as he is doing now, she does all the chores. They are doing well but they work for what they get. They are young and one doesn’t mind the work so much if they are getting something for it, and they are very congenial and happy so their blessings are manifold.

Rosemary and her baby were here for a week and we surely did enjoy them. The baby was eleven months old then and was just learning to walk. She couldn’t say any words but jabbered all the time. They have gone to Otte, Iowa to spend the winter with his grandmother as Katie rented the house furnished and has gone to Des Moines to work. (“Willie” just had another call to the corn-crib and was gone ½ hour.)

I am so thrilled at the thought of having a baby in the family and I hope it will be near enough that we can enjoy it too. Too bad, of course, that daddy can’t share the pleasure of the preparation, but this war won’t last forever, and there will be just as much thrill and pleasure in preparing for other ones.

Grissly is up now, and he is calling for “lasses cake”. I got some molasses yesterday, and am going to bake a ginger bread (“lasses cake”, wish I could send you some) today. He can’t understand why he has to do without lasses cake during the summer.

(P.M. of the same day)

(This is pretty apt to turn out to be a diary. Most of my letters are.)

The lasses cake is swell. We haven’t had many home-made cakes since sugar rationing, and I never cared much for bakery pasteries, so it tastes pretty good.

Your folks, Harold, Nola and Elizabeth were here Sunday. I asked Nola how her hay fever was. Harold said it was funny but her hay fever wasn’t as bad while she was at Iowa City as back here, in the daytime anyway, and she said, “How do you know, you didn’t see me in the daytime the whole time we were there.” I guess he had one grand time, and even begrudged the time he had to go indoors to sleep.

It is getting rather cool and cloudy this P.M. a day that reminds one of approaching winter. I suppose there is no winter where you are. There are two places I have always had a desire to go, and that is to Scotland and to the Hawaiian Islands. I suppose I will never see either one, but we never know what the future holds for us. As it is now, I hardly ever see over the hill. Went to Omaha two weeks ago with my neighbor Mayberry’s. it was the first time I had been there since Merle and I were there to see Elizabeth when she was in the hospital. Our neighbors, on the hill west have two little boys, one four and one going on three. One day they went to Elliott with us, and on the way the four year old said “O there’s a little colt eatin’ off a horse.” One day when I went up there I had my parasol and when I came out to come home I put it up. They wanted to know what it was and etc., and the four year old said “How do you turn it off?”

By the way, I received a letter from Billy about a month ago, which I am enclosing. I mailed him a letter the day before I received this one, and I immediately wrote another upon receipt of this one. It surely did make me feel bad to have neglected writing to him for so long. Time must hang heavily for him since he can’t read the daily papers. He always kept informed on the political news and current happenings, and converse intelligently on what he read and saw. He has a splendid memory. He covered a good deal of the U.S. and was always deeply interested in any industries wherever he happened to be. I never could understand why, with his intelligence and capabilities he chose to live the kind of life he has lived. I know you are a busy man but what I have in mind is, if you could write him a letter and tell him about things there it would do him a lot of good. Even if you have to do it on the installment, as I am doing this. This is the next day after I started this and I have had numerous interruptions. Wesley says he is going to town after awhile, so, as I have a chance to mail this I had better wind it up. In spite of the fact that we don’t write remember that our thoughts, and our love, and our prayers are with you and Claire always. I know your mother writes you all the news for more than I could, and I often tell her things to say from us to both of you. So, wishing you and all who are dear to you everything that is good, and with oceans and oceans of love,

I am your

Aunt Wilma