Spitball Army

Swimming lessons in the morning were followed by an hour or two on the monkey bars, which were followed by splashing and diving at the pool which, in turn, led to swinging and teeter-tottering into the twilight hours. But for me, ultimately, the emphasis was on the happenings at the swimming pool. I was a water baby.

[Read more →]

I remember when you were building that fence, we used to watch the woman who lived on the corner walk her dog up the alley and let it take a dump right behind my house. She’d just stand there watching it, smoking a cigarette. You eventually got talking with her, and she coincidentally stopped using my backyard as her dog’s potty. Well, she died last year, after battling on and off again with cancer. We had become friendly. She used to ask about you all the time.

[Read more →]

Say, one really can get a lot on these V mails when typing. I’m almost running out of material.

[Read more →]

I was shocked when I saw Uncle Pete but he looks better to me already, maybe I’m getting used to him. He uses his arm pretty well but it is quite stiff yet – that is in reaching his face.

[Read more →]

Are you able to collect many pictures or postcards? I can just hear your asking me, “Bunches, care if I show my ______ pictures?” Just as you always did about the Icelandic ones – you Darling.

[Read more →]

When I think of those months we were together, it seems that every day was a day of romance and adventure too. Marriage is an adventure, and what an exciting, beautiful one.

[Read more →]

Number of times my cat Ziggy screamed for his breakfast: 37 (which is 2,716 in Cat).

[Read more →]

This hasn’t seemed like Sunday at all, as we’ve spent the whole day working.

[Read more →]

Mrs. K. has been working for the U.S.O., but says she can’t make up her mind as to what she really wants to do. Said she has been nursing a finger “which the monkey tried to bite off.”

[Read more →]

Using “The Road Not Taken” and another poem as jumping-off points, Frost biographer Jay Parini hopes to show the vandals the error of their ways — and the redemptive power of poetry.

[Read more →]