May 24, 1943: “I don’t like Sundays”

My dear husband,

Today is Sunday and a dreary one too.  I don’t like Sundays any too well anyway, and sure hate to have them as cloudy.  I helped Toots wash today and slept awhile this afternoon.

I am blue today and wish I was back in Millville, but guess I’ll be here until Saturday.  I’ve got lots to do before I have the cleaning done here.  Wish it was done.

Friday night I was out to Maris and Paul’s.  We didn’t do much, and I stayed all night with them, and last night we didn’t do anything either.  Carl, Toots and I went to Tacon (?) shopping for awhile but came home by nine o’clock.

Honey, I hope you’re on maneuvers instead of on your way across.  Wonder when I’ll know.  Dorothy R said Rody was on maneuvers there for quite a while.  So I’m hoping that’s what you’re doing.  Seems so terrible not to hear from you.  I looked forward to your letters so much, but some day I’ll go to the mailbox and there will be a letter from you.  Hope it isn’t too long.  Honey, I hope you’re being good, but don’t suppose where you are you can find much to do wrong–or can you??  Even if I am in W’loo, honey, I’m being just as good as if I was in Millville or anyplace else.

Cleo graduated Friday night.  I could have rode along with Toots and Carl but was invited out to Maris’ so didn’t go.  I’m planning on going to your mother’s in a couple weeks.  Gosh, honey, I wish you could go with me.  It will seem so odd going there without you.

Well, my baby, I’ll close now and am wondering when you will read this and where.  This was is h—.  Hurry up and get it over with.

I love you,

Your Babe

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