May 29,1944

My dearest Hal,

I don’t believe I can write very much of a better time just now. I have weeded the strawberry bed and the greens and some beets and other things that were struggling with weeds twice their size. My fingers are so sore I can scarcely hold a pen but maybe writing will help to limber them up a bit.

I dusted the potatoes again, this making the third time. I sincerely hope the rain will hold off until the bugs eat enough to kill them all.

This morning I tacked some screen on the kitchen windows. I had to stand on the stepladder to reach the top of course and you know how silly I am even about stepladders. I was glad to get my feet on the ground again.

I guess I am the world’s worst “handy man,” and that is what we need around this place. It is so big and it is simply impossible to do everything. I try to do the most important things and not to worry over the things I can not get done.

Peggy will have a holiday tomorrow because of Memorial Day and seems happy at the idea of having a day at home. She gets home so late she has very little time in the evenings. She always works in the yard or the garden a little every day but she doesn’t have time to do very much.

I fail to understand why Daddy has decided to plant more garden than I have ever known him to put out this year when he isn’t able to work any of it. He has soybeans planted and wants to try watermelons and cantaloupes. Things I never heard of his trying to raise. Have you ever eaten soybeans? We like them very much indeed. Ruth R. brought us some last summer and we had to try some of course. Rabbits just love them, too and they have already eaten some of ours.

I am afraid this is all my hand will stand. I’m getting cramps in my fingers. I just wanted you to know that I was thinking about you and wishing I could be with you.

All my love,

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