Dear Folks:
Five days have gone by without a letter to you so I better do something about it. I just inhaled two cream puffs and my stomach feels like a little man cleaning the inside of a locomotive boiler. Anyway here goes. I don’t know where to start, or what to write about that would be very interesting or different but maybe I can find something. On pass last Saturday went to the USO dance and watched two dozen girls get mobbed by two thousand soldiers. I left early—disgusted and disappointed. The only thing I did was eat a fair meal and listen to military music in a clubroom. Sunday failed to go to church, although attendance is encouraged and made possible.
Had a letter from Gram sent from Minatare. Gramp looks like a Southern revivalist and Gram the product of his preaching. The pictures came yesterday—what finery and rainment. They were good and they’ll always torture the seams of my billfold. A couple of the guys thought Dad was the guy with the ring. And Mom, you looked like you were going to a teenage waltz party. I should have a batch for you in a day or two. I don’t suppose the other packages have gotten to you yet. And the Reader’s Digest hasn’t come, although I have a notice of subscription.
I just finished Clarence Danow’s own life story and it recalled the days when Paul would let me revel in the mysteries of the typewriter book in Greeley. It’s a good book with many philosophies and ideals, but embraces many points of argument, of which I found plenty and wondered if I was right.
One of the most pleasing nights on the islands are the cloud formations. Sometimes they are fleecy and downy and form a collar around the mountain cones. But they are especially unique in the morning at sunrise and at sunset. The sun seems to permeate them and make them glow.
Last Sunday when I was driving I saw about five natives spearing fish. They go out about a hundred yards or so and have a spear that they handle like an arrow. I can’t figure out how they stay under so long.
This is all I can throw together this time.
Love,
