Spitball Army

Sometimes, as you are about to see, our friendly neighborhood President got a little crazy with his quotation mark usage.

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This is the day…Christmas Day 1944. My first Christmas out of Indiana and our first Christmas – you in Indiana and me thousands of miles away.

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I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to extend my Christmas greetings in any way other than by a letter. Then they handed out these cards.

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He discovered Mom’s strategy when he opened the Lincoln Logs canister in August and found two painted, smelly, rotten Easter eggs.

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Because it’s Valentine’s Day.

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Colorful and crumpled balled paper floor covering. Sweeping feet and arms, he clears a path to the sofa. The ultimate gift: a nap.

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Thin, flat, square: record album. Large, circular, centerless: hula hoop. Envelope: money.

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This is the day….Christmas Day 1944. My first Christmas out of Indiana and our first Christmas – you in Indiana and me thousands of miles away.

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There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.

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This year I pledged to make good on my internet yapping and mail Christmas cards, something I haven’t done for many, many years. It turned out to be a pleasantly satisfying experience.

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