by Jerry
A load of visiting youth from Central Ohio were here, but there was no one along I knew.
I started reading a book yesterday at work that I’m really liking. It’s called For Women Only. Chris asked me if I wanted to bring the book home, so I did. It’s a Christian book about how women should treat their husbands in marriage. I’m not going to tell you what it says, but I’ll try to practice it someday.
I miss you awfully, and it would be such a beautiful day for a walk with you. Most of the snow is gone, which means no more walks in the snow this winter. I could cry.
I love you,
Naomi
March 7
Dearest Naomi,
I came in from a long jog down the road. I love the feeling of accomplishment, even if the great apostle Paul said that bodily exercise profits little. I wonder if he ever jogged a few miles for exercise? Perhaps when he was running away from the Romans, but I doubt if that qualifies.
I received a welcome letter from you today, with more news on Mr. Hooley. Well, I shall have to make my peace with the matter, and he is a nice person, even though I have never met him. And I am only half serious, but I think you knew that all along.
Remember I told you that I read the letter you wrote to Saul’s girls? Well, now they want to read one of yours written to me. It’s only fair, they said, and wouldn’t back off the point. I gave them one yesterday—and yes, it’s one you wouldn’t object to. It’s appropriate, shall we say. Now we’ll have to see what feedback they give me. I’m sure it will be good, as your letters are wonderful.
I started checking Lydia’s back schoolwork tonight, and I am hoping to be done by the end of this week. She brought in great armloads of schoolwork she completed while in Florida. Most of the papers are well done, I must say. The grades on what I’ve checked are on par with the work she does here, so I’m happy.
Lydia had sent me a card while she was in Florida. The front of the postcard pictures one of the long bridges from Key West, and she had written on the back, “From the Sunny South. We will be back toward the end of February sometime. Mom is not sure yet, but I’m getting along okay with my studies. I hope I’m on the same page you guys are. See you, and I’d better go, Lydia.”
She’s the only student who bothered writing me from sunny Florida. Sniff, sniff.
You are likely having a good time at the youth gathering tonight, and I’m sitting at home with two old people—nice old people, if they aren’t up to tricks. I think the winter weather has worn them out, as there have been no new tricks lately.
Stay sweet and dear for me.
Tuesday evening…
Here I am again, with the weather turning colder. Lonnie said tonight it’s supposed to go even lower. Mentioning tricks yesterday must have made me suspicious because I discreetly studied their faces at the supper table, hoping to see any signs of budding stunts and perhaps nip them in the bud. They both looked sad though, which was troubling. I think these church problems are wearing them down. I don’t think they agree with Stan’s preaching.
Last night I entertained myself with a romance book from the school library. I suppose either Crystal or Dena must have chosen it because I can’t imagine any of the others reading such things. Unless Velma did, which is possible.
Anyway, the romance book didn’t do much for me except bring back memories of you. I doggedly kept on reading. There was a tender scene where the girl finds the boy she loves crushed under a piece of farm machinery. She holds his head while she thinks he’s dying. (He doesn’t, of course.) I think I was supposed to cry at that spot, but I didn’t. I haven’t cried in what seems like ages. Probably because I know it will make me feel worse afterward. I end up feeling all numb and frozen inside. I think I need you to thaw me out again. No other girl can do that like you can.
I’m also enclosing a copy of a letter from my sister, who must be having the winter doldrums and decided to write me. I thought you would find the letter interesting.
With much love,
Eugene
March 1
Dear brother Eugene,
Good morning. It sure is a beautiful day outside, and I will quickly scribble a few lines to let you know how we’re faring. I had written you a letter once before, but Mom made me destroy it because I had written a couple of spooky stories we heard. She was afraid if you read them you might hear more queer noises in the walls. That story was really funny, and we sure got a kick out of it.
We have the flu bug around here, with two of the boys flat on their backs with sniffles and gasping for air. The whole community has what some are calling the “Pleasant Flu,” and apparently once you get it, you have the hardest time shaking it off.
Joe had it last week and got tired of lying around on his backside, so he armed himself with a bright idea. Out he went and took the syringe he uses for his dogs and gave himself a penicillin shot from the stock Dad keeps for the pigs. He was a little sore the next day, but it sure pepped him up. Harvey got the greatest kick out of that story, and Joe hasn’t heard the end of it yet.
Oh, you might catch the germ if you read this letter, so you’d better hold it pretty far away from your face while reading, and it probably would be wise to disinfect your hands before touching your face. I guess I should have mentioned this at the start, but I figured you probably wouldn’t count this letter precious enough to hold close and tight to your face. Not like you would if it came from someone else. Hah…
Dad is having problems with another kidney stone. He always tries to flush it out by drinking a lot of cider. He is in the bedroom right now, lying down. I guess he really has a lot of pain.
Did you hear about James Yoder? Millie has now joined him, and things have gone from bad to worse. He claims he will buy a van this week, but we don’t know if that’s true or not.
The big news around here is that Susie and Mom are on a diet again. Oh, please don’t mention that I told you because if you ask them, they are not on a diet. But they told me this was the last time they would ever be on one. You can suit yourself about which version to believe. What it really boils down to is that Susie wants to be a toothpick for her friend Rosemary’s wedding this summer.
Harvey and his family and the young folks around here were invited over to your beloved’s place the other evening for supper. They brought along the young man, Darrell Hooley, who is staying at Harvey’s place. This is the boy who is seriously considering joining the Amish. I’m sure Naomi has told you about him. He’s a riot and had us all rolling on the floor. Not really, but you know what I mean.
Well, I had better get some work done around here or Mom will be tight on my tail.
As always,
Mary
March 8
Hi, dearest Eugene,
Oddle dee doodle dee…I’m in a tense, hurrying mood. Do you ever get in moods like that? I especially do if my day has been spent sewing. I’m still working on my dress, and my shoulders are knotted from the tension.
Yesterday Mom, Rosanna, and I were over at your place working on the quilt your mom is making for us. I like it very much. The other women acted like it was just the usual thing, but I kept thinking, “This is our quilt, this is our quilt,” and I had shivers going up and down my back.
Your sisters gave me an invitation to stay for the night, and I said, “Why not? Just for the anyhow!” I enjoyed it immensely. Your family has been very nice to me, and hope it’s not because you lectured them. I didn’t pick up anything like that from them, so everything should be okay.
Dad wanted extra silage tonight, and I threw down fifty forks full, plus gave the cows hay. So I feel like superwoman tonight, but I needed some kind of good feeling after getting stuck earlier out in the barnyard mud trying to get one of the cows inside. By slowly pulling on one foot at a time, I got out. Blech. Thankfully there was no one around to laugh at me.
It’s fine if you find a couple from out there to replace Louis and Martha as table waiters. I think so many of the table
waiters are my age or were picked by me, that I’m glad you get to pick one of the couples yourself. My cousin Danny is in for sure, as I received his letter of confirmation last week.
I want to tell you again how different your letters are from what they used to be. You must feel a lot better. They are more cheerful, humorous, and reassuring to me. They never fail to make me feel better.
I’m missing you greatly.
Love you so much,
Naomi
March 9
Dearest Naomi,
I can hardly believe it, but it’s snowing outside. If the weather doesn’t decide to change, it will spoil our maple sugar trip on Friday. That would be a shame indeed. Of greater concern, though, are the snow days that may close the school and that, in turn, pushes back my return home.
I finally pulled a trick on Luella for all the agony she has caused me. Tonight when I arrived home the house was still and quiet. I seized the opportunity for the fertile plan rolling around in my head. I checked upstairs to be sure, but there was no Luella cleaning the corners of the bedrooms.
A glance out the window confirmed the pickup was gone. So I headed back downstairs. I found the liquid I needed in the refrigerator—blood-red beet juice, and set the can on the kitchen table. It took a couple of drawers to find an old white rag, which I wrapped around my hand.
I heard the pickup truck come into the driveway, so I spilled a liberal portion of beet juice on the rag and then over my lunch bucket. It was pretty authentic, I thought, so I sat down at the table and practiced my groans.
Oh no. There was the beet juice still on the table, and Luella was almost at the door. The quick dash across the floor left drips, which wasn’t good for the eventual cleanup, but it was good for effect. I sat back down, grabbed my beet-red rag, and groaned.
“Hi, Eugene,” she said as she entered. “You’re home already.”
I deepened the groan, and the poor woman went white.
“What happened?” she whispered. She couldn’t take her eyes off my bandaged hand. Then she let out a shriek and said, “I’ll get Lonnie!”
That’s the problem with my jokes—they always get too serious. They get serious and I can’t keep a straight face. Just as she was ready to turn and get Lonnie, I broke out in laughter and unrolled the rag. “It was a joke!” I said.
Luella didn’t laugh. I don’t think she believed me until she ran her hand over my arm and found nothing wrong.
“You are a rascal!” she said. “Now clean up my kitchen. What am I going to do with you!”
I got to work cleaning the kitchen, leaving it better than I found it. She looked pleased about that at least.
Thursday…
You must have been feeling pretty mean and ornery when you wrote the letter I received today. My poor head went round and round trying to follow the writing written in circles on the page instead of on the lines. Well, I’ll have to seek out my bags of tricks again.
Ah, I will try writing this backward. So the rest of this letter will have to held up to the mirror to read.
I asked Delmar, one of the young folks here, if he would consider being a table waiter at our wedding. He didn’t know what that was, but he gladly agreed when I explained. I then asked Janie, and she was delighted. So if that holds, we’ll have the missing table waiter couple.
The young people here are really enthused about coming to the wedding. Two or three even said they were coming with or without an invitation.
Well, I’m tired of backward writing, so take care.
Love you,
Eugene
March 11
My dearest Eugene,
What an evening! I bring you greetings from the Miller hospital. At least that’s the way it seems around here. Mom and Dad, Rosanna, and Larry are all in bed sick, so I did the chores tonight by myself. I was kicked by a cow, but thankfully I didn’t lose my temper. There was too much to do for wasting energy on anger.
I don’t think I like cows that well, but I will be choring alone for another day from the looks of things. Never fear though, I will survive.
I tried a little experiment tonight by combing my hair differently after I washed it. Of course, you’ve only seen it done the way I always do it, but I think you would have liked the new way. But Mom happened to come up the stairs right then, so I quickly undid my handiwork. She wouldn’t have liked it. I liked it because I think it sort of made my face look longer. I might try it again some evening once this sickness has blown over. That is, unless I myself am laid low and gasping for breath, as your sister Mary describes flu victims at her house. That was a hilarious letter. And don’t you ever try what your brother did. Injecting his own penicillin. I declare, you guys could kill yourselves.
I would so love to speak with you and spend a weekend together for a change. Patience, patience, Naomi.
I love you,
Naomi
March 14
Hi, dearest Naomi,
I had a hectic day at school, with the third- and fifth-graders getting jammed up in arithmetic. That threw everything into a turmoil, and I had to struggle to keep the other classes on schedule.
The children must have sensed the stress level rising because they looked befuddled, and I think parts of their brains shut down. I wonder why that is? I tried speaking slower and softer, which seemed to help. Anyway, we made it through the day.
Luella hasn’t been feeling well, so her motivation for tricks has been low. Then tonight she was in high form again, but this time I stayed one step ahead of her.
She had a note taped in the mailbox, but there was no letter from you.
I ignored the note and asked, “Where is Naomi’s letter?”
“You have to hunt for it,” she said. “It’s a treasure hunt. Isn’t Naomi’s letter worth the effort?”
I could see myself hunting through house and barn for hours while she rolled on the kitchen floor in hysterics, so I determined brain power would overcome this obstacle.
“I’ll figure it out,” I said, heading upstairs.
“Suit yourself,” she said, laughing. “You’ll need supper soon for all the hunting still to come.”
“Very funny,” I said from the top of the stairs.
So where was the letter? That was the question. Logic told me Luella would end up in my bedroom somewhere. I followed my hunch, turning things upside down in my room, pulling out drawers, looking in my bed, and sure enough, there it was under the pillow.
Being the kind and good-hearted soul that I am, I couldn’t bear spoiling all her fun, so I meandered back downstairs with a mean look on my face to begin the treasure hunt. She did run me out to the barns, and the pole barns, and the manure spreader. But I also found two letters along the way, one from my grandparents in Canada, and the other from Mary again.
I stormed upstairs waving the two letters, while Luella laughed in the kitchen. It felt better this way, and I guess I needed the exercise anyway.
I agree the diet might be affecting my mind for the better. But I will now cease my ranting about Mr. Hooley. He seems to be a nice person from his letters, and that will be the end of the matter.
The letter from Mary said they greatly enjoyed your overnight stay, which was good to hear.
I wouldn’t mind seeing you in your new hairstyle, if you know what I mean. Just don’t go out in public, please. Right now it would be good seeing you in whatever hairstyle you are pleased to wear.
Thanks for the little card you sent with the words “everyone is lonely without you.” I can say the same thing for you.
Remember I told you I gave Saul’s girls one of your letters to read? Well, they have brought it back and are not satisfied. Janie said she wants one of the juicy ones to read. I said, no, she’s not getting any, and that was the end of that.
Love you,
Eugene
March 14
Dearest Eugene,
I will write quickly before the time arrives to wash cow udders. I’m still chori
ng by myself, and things are in a hectic mess.
Dad did drag himself out of bed to attend church yesterday, and now he’s paying for it. The rest of the family stayed home, and all this afternoon Mom has been puttering around in the kitchen. She must be feeling better. I think she may attempt supper for the two of us. Dad and the others will do good if they keep chicken soup down.
I thought about taking Darrell to the singing by myself, just to tease you, but Harvey’s young folks took him. I had to rush to get ready with all the ill people around, but I made it in time. Afterward, I had a chance to speak with Esther about the table waiter spot for her. She said she didn’t really want to be with Jacob, which is fine with me. I told her I was sorry, that I thought they were about ready to begin seeing each other. She said they were not.
I thought right away that Esther must have turned Jacob down for some reason because there were tears in her eyes. She said it might be best if I place her with someone else. Then Mom told me today that she heard Jacob had asked some other girl home, and he was turned down. Apparently he tried to hide his indiscretion from Esther, but thankfully she found out.
It would be hard to respect a boy like that—who flits around from girl to girl, like a bee testing the flowers. We girls might be pretty like flowers, but we have hearts instead of nectar.
The book For Women Only turned out to be for married not unmarried women, so I stopped reading until such time when I need it—like after the wedding.
I love you a lot,
Naomi
March 16
Dearest Naomi,
“Humpidy dumpity,” it’s another Wednesday evening, and I am bored silly. Job, in the Old Testament, said, “Man that is born of a woman is of few days, and full of trouble” (Job 14:1). I think he knew what he was talking about.
My problem with the eighth-grade girls shows no improvement, no matter how hard I try. I don’t seem to have the knack of getting along with either of them. There are clashes, and then there are more clashes. First it was Crystal and Dena, but with Dena gone to Florida for two weeks, Velma has joined arms with Crystal. But I will try to be nice and hope the storm blows over.