Dear Ted,
Honestly, I've just about given up trying to understand your mail service. Here I try my best to get a letter to you every single day and what happens? I ask you to ask me. Is that any way for Uncle Sam's postal employees to treat us? I was awfully disappointed about it really. I thought I had things regulated but somebody double crossed me. I get your letters every day. It's so much nicer that way.
LH still wants you to go hunting with him the first day if possible. I told him you were still planning on it with much anticipation but that you might not get to go the first day. He said he would write you and I told him that you would probably write him also. You two really ought to get together some way. I know you'd just love another “little” chat, wouldn't you?
The girls last nite were very curious (and interested). They fired questions and wanted to know all about this and that and the other thing. I told them just so much – you know. You wouldn't want me to tell all, would you? I knew you wouldn't. I just gave them a sort of skeleton outline of how and where we met and of our trip. They wanted to know what you looked like, and what you were like and stuff like that, like all girls ask other girls. Maybe you don't understand exactly – never having been a girl yourself. Anyway, I told them how swell you are – honest I did. Did you know that I think you're swell? Well, I do. I'm glad you didn't send any of your love to anybody else here. I guess I'm sort of selfish where that's concerned. Am I? Or do I have right to be?
I had fun with the “gang” last night but guess what my family did. They deserted me and I believe they had a better time. The Mayfields stayed until this morning so there was a whole gang over at Manneys. They made homemade ice cream and everything and I had to miss it. I was sort of disappointed – but how! Gladys brought Dolores Jean over for a little while so the girls could see her. They thought she was darling and no wonder. Honestly, she gets sweeter all the time is seems.
If this letter sounds mixed up or incomprehensible up to now it's because I'm trying to listen to the radio and write at the same time. Somehow it's not working out so well tonight. I can't seem to concentrate or write what I want to. Do you ever get that way?
Do you remember me talking about how I was at “inward” at work – you know, taking calls coming in to Dayton? Do you also remember I told you I didn't like it very well and I was getting tired of it? Well, next week they changed me. I get to take outgoing calls. I'm so glad about it. It's so much more interesting. They let me do it this afternoon and the time passed so much more quickly. I was sleepy anyway and it certainly was a big help. Honestly, Ted, next week I vow I'm going to get more sleep. I'll have a good start Monday and Tuesday because I'm off both days. Boy, am I going to “sleep in” both mornings!
Next Thursday night we are going to have Sunday School class meeting at our house. We weren't supposed to have it until about December but this month's host backed out so they asked us if we would take it. Naturally we consented so that's one night with less sleep. Then there'll probably be Friday night. We want to go to the football game which will be out of town this time. Wednesday nite of course is prayer meeting but that doesn't last very late. It looks like I'll have to sleep Monday and Tuesday, doesn't it?
I still don't think this letter is very interesting and I think I'd better stop before it gets any worse. I don't know what's wrong with me tonight. This must be my “off day”. Or maybe I'm kind of lonesome for someone. Could that be it, do you suppose? I'll probably feel better tomorrow and I promise you I'll try to do better. I hate to send you this letter but I want you to have one and it's the best I can do tonight. I hope it's not too bad.
I still have some studying to don on my Sunday School lesson. It's a good lesson, isn't it? I believe it will be fairly easy to teach too.
Good-night again. I think of you a lot. Do you mind? I knew you wouldn't.
Love,
Dolores
Honestly, I've just about given up trying to understand your mail service. Here I try my best to get a letter to you every single day and what happens? I ask you to ask me. Is that any way for Uncle Sam's postal employees to treat us? I was awfully disappointed about it really. I thought I had things regulated but somebody double crossed me. I get your letters every day. It's so much nicer that way.
LH still wants you to go hunting with him the first day if possible. I told him you were still planning on it with much anticipation but that you might not get to go the first day. He said he would write you and I told him that you would probably write him also. You two really ought to get together some way. I know you'd just love another “little” chat, wouldn't you?
The girls last nite were very curious (and interested). They fired questions and wanted to know all about this and that and the other thing. I told them just so much – you know. You wouldn't want me to tell all, would you? I knew you wouldn't. I just gave them a sort of skeleton outline of how and where we met and of our trip. They wanted to know what you looked like, and what you were like and stuff like that, like all girls ask other girls. Maybe you don't understand exactly – never having been a girl yourself. Anyway, I told them how swell you are – honest I did. Did you know that I think you're swell? Well, I do. I'm glad you didn't send any of your love to anybody else here. I guess I'm sort of selfish where that's concerned. Am I? Or do I have right to be?
I had fun with the “gang” last night but guess what my family did. They deserted me and I believe they had a better time. The Mayfields stayed until this morning so there was a whole gang over at Manneys. They made homemade ice cream and everything and I had to miss it. I was sort of disappointed – but how! Gladys brought Dolores Jean over for a little while so the girls could see her. They thought she was darling and no wonder. Honestly, she gets sweeter all the time is seems.
If this letter sounds mixed up or incomprehensible up to now it's because I'm trying to listen to the radio and write at the same time. Somehow it's not working out so well tonight. I can't seem to concentrate or write what I want to. Do you ever get that way?
Do you remember me talking about how I was at “inward” at work – you know, taking calls coming in to Dayton? Do you also remember I told you I didn't like it very well and I was getting tired of it? Well, next week they changed me. I get to take outgoing calls. I'm so glad about it. It's so much more interesting. They let me do it this afternoon and the time passed so much more quickly. I was sleepy anyway and it certainly was a big help. Honestly, Ted, next week I vow I'm going to get more sleep. I'll have a good start Monday and Tuesday because I'm off both days. Boy, am I going to “sleep in” both mornings!
Next Thursday night we are going to have Sunday School class meeting at our house. We weren't supposed to have it until about December but this month's host backed out so they asked us if we would take it. Naturally we consented so that's one night with less sleep. Then there'll probably be Friday night. We want to go to the football game which will be out of town this time. Wednesday nite of course is prayer meeting but that doesn't last very late. It looks like I'll have to sleep Monday and Tuesday, doesn't it?
I still don't think this letter is very interesting and I think I'd better stop before it gets any worse. I don't know what's wrong with me tonight. This must be my “off day”. Or maybe I'm kind of lonesome for someone. Could that be it, do you suppose? I'll probably feel better tomorrow and I promise you I'll try to do better. I hate to send you this letter but I want you to have one and it's the best I can do tonight. I hope it's not too bad.
I still have some studying to don on my Sunday School lesson. It's a good lesson, isn't it? I believe it will be fairly easy to teach too.
Good-night again. I think of you a lot. Do you mind? I knew you wouldn't.
Love,
Dolores
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