This is the first of a two-part letter from Grandma Peabody, the mother of Arla, Grandpa’s wife, who passed away in 1933, after a long illness.
Believe me, I was glad to get your letter. You are just a dear to write to me. It means so much to know someone is thinking of me. And thank you a lot for the birthday card which arrived on the 12th. If you sent to something else it has not arrived yet. Dorothy and I have been trying to guess what it might be, but we always seem to end up with, ” I can’t imagine.”
I am glad Dick arrived safe after such a long and, I should think, a tedious ride across the country all by himself. He was in my thoughts so much. I need not say anymore because I think you know me. What a glorious thing it must be to have the car so you can drive to different places. I wish I was with you.
My birthday was celebrated Sunday because Mondays, everybody is too busy. Aunt Helen came home, and late afternoon, Kemper and family came over for ice cream, cake, and coffee. Helen brought me some beautiful flowers and a bottle of fine perfume. From Aunt Dee three plants, which are very nice and two packages of writing paper, that’s always so welcome because I do carry on quite a correspondence. I must tell you about the birthday cake. Saturday Dorothy said to me, “I am almost dying for a piece of coconut layer cake, so I said, “I will make you one tomorrow,” which I did. When it was ready, I said, “Here is your cake, help yourself.” But she said, “Well – I don’t care much about it today but last night I would have given anything for a piece.” (This was Sunday forenoon) so I thought I would take a little piece to see if it was good. When Helen came about 1:30, I asked her if she wouldn’t like some coffee and cake and said “Yes”, with big smile. But she didn’t take any, decided on roles instead. When the cake box was brought in to the living room where we all were (with candles burning) I recognized my cake. Aunt Dorothy had taken a few Lilies of the Valley and some pink flowers and tied them together with a blue ribbon and put them in the opening I had made sampling the cake. I hadn’t the slightest idea I was making my birthday cake. I was making it for D. She told me afterwards, “I was flabbergasted when I saw the hole in the cake, although it was so small.” It made some fun for them all and I expect I will never hear the last of it. On the 13th, while D and I were having our breakfast, a package of Swedish crisp bread arrived from your father. We have been enjoying it very much.
Tomorrow, I’ll post the other half of this letter.Wednesday and Thursday, a letter from Grandpa and on Friday, a letter from Jean Hughes to Ced.