Dearest Folks:
Here’s another letter from that APO in the Pacific and I guess it’s about time. I was developing somewhat of a peeve against my mainland correspondents and resolved not to write until the letters started coming, however this wasn’t directed against you for yours come regularly and consistently. When I read your letter today I felt pretty low and at the same time sore at myself. You mentioned dad’s birthday and I did nothing about remembering him, and although I know what you would say, I still feel bad about it. However, perhaps I can make it up by a telephone call. Arrangements have been made for transpacific calls, so perhaps at the end of next month when I will get my increased pay I can swing the deal. I think it would be a great experience and something to remember for a long time. And this time it will be on me for no collect calls are possible. I suppose you have the pictures and the bond by now, and soon I will have the prints of the ones we took on the hike to the ranch. Well last Sunday I got off for the dance and had a good time despite the heat and the crowdiness. In the morning I attended Easter services in a very beautiful and inspiring church, but despite the singing and the flowers could not feel the same response from my own church. I have been invited to the convent again for a revisit, and hope I can keep the date if only for the supper. In order to write a letter I have to start thinking about a day or two in advance and then hope that I haven’t forgotten what I was going to say, but that is usually what happens. Last night a fellow in the band got ahold of an old fiddle and when he started playing I couldn’t help going over and having a look. Finally a little later, I even got a stroke or two myself and found I was pretty rusty, but with the little privacy and my propensity for shyness I’m afraid I won’t improve. Here is the end of the sheet and the end of this too.
Love,
