I received a letter from Mom and Dad, dated January 4th,, the day before yesterday, and there is one part of it that I am not very pleased about. What in the world could they possibly want back in Colfax?! If either one of them is the least bit serious about it, I’m just plain disgusted. I don’t see how they could even think of such a thing. I may be all wrong, but somehow I’ve been going along under the assumption that their home was in Spokane.
Now about the matter itself, it is important and I don’t blame them for worrying over it a little, but leaving Spokane is not the solution. Staying there is. It has more to offer than any small town around it, in good times or bad. During the years we lived in Colfax, there was more than one time that we wished our home were right where it is now. So let’s leave it there, shall we?
Well, tonight I got two more letters. They are old-timers, December 12th and 14th. As if , that isn’t bad enough, they were dated them November 12th and 14th. Ha Ha! In fact, practically all the letters Mom and Dad wrote last month were dated “November”. The days must be rolling by very fast for them, I am thinking!
It looks like someone is at last appreciating Twinkle. I know I’ve always had the idea that he was just a little different from other cats. There’s something about him– One time Mom and Dad said he had sort of taken my place. Does that mean that they don’t put him out in the cold anymore? What a time we had with him at 808 Mansfield in that garage. I don’t think Northern Ireland quite has its share of cats. Must be the weather. You know how they hate water, and around here, it’s sink or swim. There is a little black-and-white kitten at our site, and he’s into everything. He’s wild, though, and won’t let a guy get near him.
I was very gratified to learn that all my parent’s friends and relatives are concerned over my well-being. I’ll ask Mom and Dad to tell them that nothing could be better. Not counting an honorable discharge after the war. Mom and Dad telling me that this will end sometime and then we can make up for lost time reminds me of something I read in Yank. It said that this being in the army so far away from home is very much like having the dentist drill around on you. It’s bearable only because you know it can’t go on forever. That applys more to the boys who are actually fighting than it does to us. We’re certainly not suffering. You know what they call us, don’t you? Chairborne troops and paragraph troopers! All I can say is, “It’s good work if you can get it.”
Guess who I got V-mail from Friday? None other than Mrs. Busby. I sent out quite a batch of Christmas cars to her and some others, and she promptly wrote back. She said, “Very pleased and surprised to get card. Can you tell what you’re in—flying or what?” I know she would like nothing better than to find out I’m buzzing around in a P38 or making commando raids on the French coast. That’s the kind of person she is. As soon as she gets to know you, she decides that you are a certain “type”. Then if you do something that she would never expect your “type” to do, she is delighted. I’m afraid I can’t giver her that pleasure. Ha Ha! She also told me about several of my old classmates—where they are and what they are doing. My, but I’d like to be in college “debating” with Doris Pierson. Woo-o-o-woo-o-o-o-o-o ! ! (That almost got away from me, didn’t it?). At the end she asked me to write and let them know how things are going with me, which I think I will. A couple of years ago, we were pretty thick and she probably wants to check up on my English.
When I look back to high school, there are 4 teachers that I remember before any others. Mrs. Busby, Miss Howard, Mr. Moses, and Mr. Peterson. They are tops. Very few parents realize the influence and guidance they exercise over their students during the years when every experience has its effect for good or evil. I will never be able to repay them for what they did for me.
[letterstohome copyright 2008]