Trumbull, Conn., August 18, 1946
Summer approaches it’s end, as announced by the katy-dids who mightily have have their age old argument as to whether she did or didn’t, making no more progress towards a definite decision than the meetings of the United Nations. The coming of fall is also presaged for me by the advent of the hay fever season although thus far only a few vagrant sneezes have so far served as a reminder of what is to come. I am still in Trumbull, not having yet escaped to the Island. This delay in carrying out my vacation plans is due to the fact that, for the mid-summer business let-up we have been exceptionally busy at the office and I don’t like to leave Dave head-over-heels in work, and also, as above mentioned, the ragweed pollen has not yet made it’s presence objectionable. Also I am somewhat beset by problems of the house. It seems we must have a new roof, and materials and especially labor add to the difficulties of the problem and also to the expense. The winter heating problem also bothers me. I started back in June to see what I could do about installing an oil burner and here again shortage of equipment and Labor put the prospective buyer in the position of a supplicant. Dealers have so many requests they cannot take care of that they pay no attention to what, in ordinary times, would be the occasion for keen competition. Cost of re-roofing runs about $500, and in addition I shall either have to spend several hundred dollars additional to rebuild the front porch and replace roof timbers or tear down the front porch entirely and build a small front door vestibule. But enough of my home worries.
Jean and Dick are still at the Island and apparently enjoying themselves. Arnold Gibson and his wife are up there with them and from a postal just received from Jean, she is becoming a seasoned camper, fisher woman, etc. and plans to stay there until they are forced to return.
No letter from Dan last week, which circumstance is beginning to bother me a bit. In my more gloomy moments I have visions of him in the hoosegow by reason of his father having sent him several shipments of cigarettes for sale on the black market. Incidentally my passport arrived O.K. last week, so that hurdle is out of the way. Of course, I really have not decided to visit France, as there are still a number of “ifs” in the way. If Dan does not come home in October, if home expenses do not make the trip impossible from a financial standpoint, if work at the office does not make it unwise to leave the country for an indefinite stay, etc., etc.
My car, I believe I told you, has a new motor which has to be coddled a bit for the first 500 miles. I have not yet decided when I shall take off for New Hampshire but when I do I shall go by way of Claremont so that the service station that installed the motor can give it the 500-mile check. I am afraid the 500 mile limit will be exceeded by the time I make the 200 mile trip to the Buick place.
Tomorrow is Dick’s birthday and of course I cannot let the occasion pass without the usual mental recognition of the event. We celebrated it in absentia today, the menu for today’s dinner consisting of roast smoked ham, corn on the cob, ice cream (donated by Aunt Betty) and as a special guest, Dave invited Eleanor Kintop. (The woman he married in 1947.)
Doug – August, 1946
Judy – August, 1946
The twins (6 weeks old) make steady progress, keeping both their father and mother and at times, Aunt Betty, pretty busy with the feeding schedule, to say nothing of the laundry.
Tomorrow, I’ll post the rest of this letter, which is a look back at the lives of family members one year ago, in 1945.