Climax, Saskatchewan, May 24, 1955
Dear Auntie, We sure were upset to get your letter about Uncle Barker passing away. Mom and Dad and the girls send their deep felt sympathy and say to tell you they will remember all of you and him too in their prayers. But as Mom says, it can’t be too great a shock for you, what with him being so much older in years. I’ve been thinking lately that it won’t be easy for you with three kids only half grown and that big house to look after, a regular mansion if I remember right, but then I was only there the once. It seems like a dream, in fact, looking back. So in the next little while if you happen to find you need a hand in the house, maybe you could drop me a line. I’m looking at moving East now that my husband and I have called it quits. Drink was the main problem there. And general laziness. Someone with my kind of pep gets driven straight up the wall by another person just laying around. I’d be willing to work for my room and board and forty dollars a month. I’m a pretty fair housekeeper, if I do say so myself, and just crazy about baking cakes, pies, buns, what have you. Also laundry, ironing, etc. Also, I can type, as you can see, thirty-five words a minute, it was through a correspondence course, otherwise I might of got up to sixty.
With love from your niece, Beverly P.S. Mom doesn’t know I’m writing in regards to this matter, so if you write back, send to Box 422, that way it doesn’t go to their place.
Bloomington, Indiana, May 29, 1955
Dearest Daze, I wish to hell I could pour some good liquid cheer into this envelope. I know how down-and-out rotten you must be feeling these days. Well, no, I don’t exactly know — how could I? — but I can imagine what a misery it is to find yourself alone after all the time you and Barker have been together. What has it been? — I make it twenty years. Lordy, it does go by, time that is, the filthy robber.
And Alice off to college next fall! And all this so soon after your dad dying.
Anyway I’m not going to go on and on about “remembering you in my prayers” (ha!) and “time’s healing balm” and all that razzmatazz — you’ll get plenty of that from dear old Beans — who grows more pious and platitudinous each day. When Ma died she sprayed me with enough perfumed clichés to clog up my sinuses for a month. This note is just to remind you, old pal, that you’ve got lots of years left. Personally, I’m finding that being fifty isn’t half as bad as it’s cracked up to be — the old visage may be a bit pouchy and cross-hatched, but “everything that matters” is still in good working order, and no damn getting the curse either. So don’t climb into your widow’s weeds and wither away just yet, kiddo! What do you say we treat ourselves to a week in Chicago this winter. We could see a few shows, stay at the Palmer House, and eat like pigs. January would suit me — the gallery here is planning to close the last week of the month, and we’re “encouraged” to clear off. Lordy, remember the terrific time we had in New York three years ago, or was it four? — that hilarious waiter and his bouncing baby lobster! — I wonder, did you ever report all that to Barker, item for item? Yes or no?
Never mind replying — I can guess.
So let’s hit Chi-town and put a little life into our life, what say?
Surely there’s someone who could keep an eye on Warren and Joanie for a few days. Give it some thought.
Love, Fraidy Ottawa, May 29, 1955
Dear Mrs. Flett, We are delighted you will be able to attend our little tribute to your late husband. I should add that we would be very pleased to have your children in attendance as well.
And I thank you very much for your suggestion about the coverage of the Tulip Festival. We would indeed be honored to have a few words from you; about five hundred words would be ideal. I wish I had had the wit to suggest it myself since rumor has it you are a famous gardener in your own right.
With sincere good wishes, Jay W. Dudley, Editor Bloomington, Indiana, June 1, 1955
My dear old friend, Our hearts ache continually for you these days. Your burden has been unutterably heavy, losing your father in April, bless his soul, and now your dearly beloved mate. I feel sure that the many happy memories of your life together will sustain you in the dark days ahead, as will the presence of your loved ones and the prayers of your dear friends. Time does heal, that is what you must keep in mind, though of course we never really forget those who have played such a large part in our lives. Dick joins me in these few rushed words of sympathy. (After much pressure, he has accepted the transfer to the head office in Cleveland, and now we must face the sadness of putting our dear old house up for sale — unfortunately the market is not booming. It seems limestone has become a lemon.)
Lovingly, “Beans”
Ottawa, June 5, 1955
Dear Mrs. Flett, Just a note to express my thanks for the gracious remarks you contributed to our little ceremony yesterday. I believe I can say that we were all touched by your comments, particularly those concerning your late husband’s regard for the Recorder and all that it stands for in our community.
And speaking personally, it was a very great pleasure to meet you and your three charming children, and please don’t think for a minute I was offended by what your daughter, Alice, said about my necktie. I know how teenagers sometimes blurt out their thoughts and later regret it. I look forward eagerly to your article on the Tulip Festival. Five hundred words would do nicely, as I believe I mentioned, but please feel free to expand or contract, should you feel the need. We have a great many eager gardeners out there who will welcome your thoughts.
Sincerely, J.W.D., Editor Ottawa, June 9, 1955
Dear Mrs. Flett, Just a note to let you know your maiden flight, as you term it, will be landing next Saturday in the Sports and Home section. We found the piece you mailed in to be solid in the best journalistic sense, yet full of felicities, my favorite being your description of thinly planted tulips looking like “ninnies marching off to a picnic.” Quite so.
If you are in agreement, we thought we might use “Mrs. Green Thumb” as a byline. I am a little uneasy about this suggestion, wondering if it might seem insensitive, certainly not my intention, so do please let me know if you have any reservations.
Sincerely, Jay Dudley Ottawa, June 15, 1955
Dear Mrs. Green Thumb, I congratulate you on your coverage of our fair city’s annual Tulip Festival which I found fair, comprehensive, and flattering. Why flattering? Because you singled out, as being especially praiseworthy, one particular front yard on Fenton Avenue where you claim to have spotted a stand of “gorgeous Rembrandts backed by a gray-stained fence” (fourth paragraph). Since reading this, my good wife and I have persuaded ourselves that this must be a reference to our very own Rembrandts, and to our very own recently stained fence which has caught your attention and achieved the immortality of print.
Would you by any chance have an opinion on the use of fungicides to sterilize soil after an eruption of fire-blight?
With thanks, Alvin A. MacIntosh Ottawa, June 18, 1955
Dear Mrs. Green Thumb, Happy to see the Tulip Festival through female eyes for a change.
Liked what you said about bybloems. More people should speak out on said topic. Hope you’ll continue with the Recorder column.
Frankly, I often found the ex-gardens writer, Mr. Green Thumb, uncommitted on the subject of broken varieties. A bit nambypamby on fertilizers too.
Yours, Doris Griswold P.S. I’m with you one hundred percent on the question of pastels mixed with pures.
Climax, Saskatchewan, June 25, 1955
Dear Auntie, I’ve been keeping my fingers crossed for a letter from you, but the days go by and no luck so far. I guess, truth to tell, I’m getting sort of nervous, and the reason is, I might as well tell you straight out, I’m in the family way, only nobody around here knows about it, especially my folks who would go up in smoke if they got wind of it.