Thursday, June 1, 1944
My mother is reading a long letter from home, puzzling over her mother’s spidery handwriting. There isn’t much happening back home. Her parents are well. Her mother is packing up some sweaters and long-sleeved blouses to send her. The days are warm here but evenings at this altitude are still cool, not like Illinois. “Did you cut Susie’s hair again,” Grandma asks in the letter. “Don’t ruin her looks!” Grandma also thinks I need a sunbonnet to protect my skin and will buy one for me if my mother sends the size. “I know it will not be an easy task, but I will look high and low,” she promises. The American West fascinates them both and they are thrilled with the photographs Abe is sending.