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Tuesday, March 6th
I stayed home today, partly because I have a cold, but mostly because I wanted to. There comes a day, I imagine, in everyone’s life when regardless of how much one is devoted to one’s work, when one wants to say « The devil with it ». Today was the day. I loafed, painted, and heard my favorite Brahm’s First Symphony on the radio which compensated any previous doubts as to whether I should have gone to work. The fourth movement is one of the best pieces of music that I know. It has haunted me since I heard Bernstein conduct it a month ago.
Dorothy Wendel’s mother died yesterday and I just finished writing to her. A letter of sympathy is very difficult for me to write. I feel so incapable of saying anything that could adequately suffice in proportion to such a loss. Mr Miller, uncle stan’s father died last week, also. He was a sweet old man, but he had been irrational for quite a while.
I love you very much, dear. I love your daughter, too. Besides being a delightful person in herself, she is so much like you. She is so witty and profound, she amazes me. She should grow into quite a gal.
Your mother is getting some new teeth and she is home for the week because she won’t be seen. It’s one way of getting her to rest. She is so funny. I could cheerfully murder Jane and Jule, they are so inconsiderate of her.
I don’t think that I ever told you about Sharry’s goldfish. We have had them for a couple of months. They are huge and have fan tails. They are really beautiful. One of them has developed a fungus growth. I was told to put micuricrome in the water, that didn’t seem to do much good so now I take him out of the water about three times a day and paint him with it. He has become very tame, he doesn’t even wiggle anymore during the treatment.
I wish that I would hear from you. It has been three weeks. People in the Army can at least keep up a correspondence. Couldn’t you ask for a furlough ?
The news today is good. Cologne has fallen. I am optimistic and pessimistic by turn. All humanity is such a turmoil. Will it ever straighten itself out ?
I’m going to work on my cold, now, and go to bed. Good night, dearest, I love you.