May 7, 1944
Sweetheart, we had sunshine and rain at the same time today, which helped to drop the high temperatures a bit. I was supposed to enclose some snaps in the letter I wrote yesterday, but Ruth promised to send them along in her letter.
Mr. First (the notary a few doors away) asked me to come in and type a letter for him after giving it to me in shorthand. I was there only a short while and he gave me fifty cents for my trouble. He asked me if I would like to do a little of typing at home. Would I? I've been looking for that type of work for a long time, preferring to stay at home and do it at my leisure.
I didn't work for Miss Hahn last week as I said I would on account of Jack’s illness. He's fine once more and I'm working a half day for Miss Hahn tomorrow.
Goldie went to the doctor yesterday and his guess is the boy. She started her ninth month on May 10th and the doc says she can have it any day after that date.
I learned how to play gin rummy last night after writing to you. I thought it was sumpin’—boy was I disappointed. It's just like plain rummy.
One of Betty's relatives, a marine, who has been stationed in Newfoundland for over 16 months, came in on furlough today, his first furlough after being in the Marines for over three and a half years. Can you imagine how this family felt? He had plenty of say and I was a most interested listener. I wouldn't mind listening to you for a few years—if only I could! Oh, darling, when will that be???
Adele slept through the entire night without a break, and I never cease to be grateful for that. She doesn't want to stay in her walker anymore. She prefers to walk alone. I have to force her to hold my hand when she gets too ambitious and we walk together all around block. She likes to stop at Feldman's and look at the rabbits he keeps for tests, etc. She gets terribly excited and makes a big to do about them.
I washed and pressed this morning, sewed and did a few little things. I haven't made much progress with Adele’s sweater, but hope to get it finished within the next week or so.
After writing so much yesterday, I'm having a helluva time getting this page filled. So, if’n you don't mind, baby mine, I'll send along all my love, a hug and kiss (that goes for all your girls) and a reminder that I'm keeping “our” date regularly.
May 8, 1944
I worked six and a half hours for Miss Hahn and she would like to have me again a week from this Thursday. I'm going to use this money to buy myself some dresses and shoes, both of which I definitely need. My brown flatties are ready for the junk heap having cracked on one side. I have hopes of getting downtown shortly. Here’s hopin’!
Adele does the following: Cries when asked to cry, laughs when asked to laugh. She says a-pul for apple, which I scrape and give her at times. This evening while I was eating, she “went” all over herself and the playpen (I keep her in it in the house even though it is broke—the floor is uneven, sinking down in the middle) and I couldn't help being mad at her. I interrupted my meal long enough to clean up the mess and had to bring her down again sans shoes. She wanted to pull off her socks and I kept telling her not to. When she insisted, I smacked her hand. A few seconds later I was eating a slice of fresh pineapple (Petey works in this line and sends home loads of goods for Betty, who, in turn, passes some of it onto us, thereby saving us quite a bit of money) and Adele wanted a piece. Naturally, I gave it to her. Well, honey, she lit up like candle when she saw I wasn't mad anymore and clapped her hands for joy. Fresh pineapple—yum, yum, yum! Afterwards we all gathered in the living room, where Adele tried to make somersaults (I helped her) and put her socks back on. She tried and tried and tried—in vain. Then she yelled, momma! She enjoys a piggy back and got a real ride on my back this evening. You guessed it, sweet. I'm tired—that knocks me out like anything. I let her get good and dirty, so she looked good and clean when I threw her in the tub and scrubbed her. Right after the bath she waits til I bring up her glass of “wow-wow” and sits down quietly in a corner of the crib to drink it. Then she has to “sis” and then she finally puts her head down and her rear goes up. All kids sleep that way.
Mom had a Jewish letter from Jack today, the first one with his new rating on the return address.
I finished knitting the back of Adele's white sweater after writing to you last night. I hope to do a bit of knitting before I go to bed this evening. It's much cooler today and a welcome relief from the unseasonable hot weather we've been having. I wore my black spring coat and, believe it or not, sweet, I need a new one. It's very shabby and I don't feel dressed in it. If I can pick up a bargain like my last one, I'll buy a coat. If not, well, you can pick it.
You “have” it, sweet, and me too. Haven't I told you that I love you? No? Well, whaddya know! Guess I’d better do so right now! Put your ear a little closer—I want to whisper it to you, baby. On second thought, I don't mind shouting it to the wide, great world. I LOVE YOU, PHIL, DEAR AND AM