Letters to Elwyn

Dearest Elwyn,

Well it's been a busy household with the puppy, as you can imagine. I am getting over that we couldn't keep all of Duchess's "rat-faced bastard pups" as Mr. McNulty referred to them exclusively and it was not easy trying to pick just one of the five! My choice was based on the personality and temperament of the puppy and I ended up choosing the one I called Bitsy. She's the smallest and most quiet which will probably please Father (or not upset him). I've shed dozens and dozens of tears over Skippy, Dutch, Clark and Nipper but Mother assures me they will find good homes. Porter has been chained to the back porch since we discovered his amorous ways and does nothing but howl Needless to say there has been tension which causes Father to start "medicating" earlier in the day, which then, in turn leads to a good deal of sighing and clucking from Mother and Auntie Mae.

I took your advice and have inquired at the hospital for a training position. I will be meeting with a Sister Bernadette on Tuesday which is very exciting! I never thought of nursing as a career but you are right, it is a nobel profession and it will certainly give me some good ideas. Plus I will start a savings account for our future. I don't see myself as a career woman after marriage, Elwyn, you don't have to worry yourself about that, but to be able to add to the comfort of our future is quite a thought. Mother grudgingly assented after consideration. She says she hopes I have more luck working with the halt and the lame than I've had in my other endeavors. Honestly, she can be such an old cow at times.

I am enclosing my latest poem. The frost along the window pane inspired me. I have dedicated it to you and made a copy for "Our Memories" book. You didn't say anything about my last story in your letter and I'm hoping it's because you're giving it a good deal of thought and attention.

Stay warm and dry out in the woods, Elwyn. You know how susceptible you are to lung irritations in the cold weather! If my new career is a go, rest assured I will care for you if you take ill, but until I'm properly trained, you're at the mercy of the linemen and lumber jacks.

I look forward to your next letter and await more eagerly your arrival on the 20th.

Yours Truly,
Dorothy