June with a Silly Grin

Thursday, December 1, 1949

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B

New York City

Dear Art,

Shirl just looked over this way and exclaimed, “June, you have an awful silly grin on your face.  You’re not writing to Art by any chance, are you?”

We just hung the curtains.  Shirl told me to tear them instead of cutting them, and then just sew hems on them.  So that’s what I did.  How were we to know they would tear on a diagonal instead of straight?  They are unbelievably crooked.  We sat down and had a good laugh.  Anyway, they are nice and cheerful and clean.

She’s ironing the bedspread now.  Then we’ll sit down for half an hour to admire the work.  After that homework.  I have to wash my hair tonight too.

Oh, Art, I have bad news.  At least it’s bad news to me.  Our Christmas vacation doesn’t start till the 20^th which is on a Tuesday.  That means I probably won’t come home until Wednesday night.  Then we go back January 4^th.  That means I won’t see you for three whole weekends in December.  I’m mad at the school.  I don’t think I’ll ever forgive Miss Traphagen!  It is a long time, isn’t it?  But I can’t go home.  My father and mother don’t expect me and it costs money.  Everyone would know I’d be coming home just to see you.  So here I shall stay, but I certainly miss my nights out.  That will be especially true over the weekend.

Shirl’s sister Evie comes tomorrow, so that means no getting homework done for awhile.  I’d better accomplish something tonight.  Be good.

All my love,

June

(Tonight – greased, oil changed, and raring to go.)

© 2010 Lee Price