November 1, 1947
Pub. in the kitchen:
Crestfallen Manor Publisher: Charles
339 Frost Ave. Circulation: 50
Rochester 8, N.Y. Weather: Ho-hum! Indian Summer
Fall muffed her cue and summer slipped back onto the stage
for a short performance and a good many bows. Pansies bloomed, cosmos was more
vivid and lovely than ever, fall crocus came up, marigolds hopped the bandwagon
and appeared in profusion and, best of all, the roses had a whole new crop.
A touch of frost, like a bit of hard luck or worry for humans, does a lot
for the garden. Seems even flowers
cling to life.
THE MANOR: Seems
we are not alone here after all. Charles
decided to finish insulating the attic from that point at which Jack Frost made
him quit last fall. I stayed home
from town and everything was set for a quick, clean job.
Charles crawled and wiggled through the ceiling hole which is the
entrance to the attic and SHOT back down again.
The place was a hotel for hornets! DDT
having done its dire deed, he was ready to return to his task the following
Saturday afternoon and the temperature hit 88 in the shade and 110 up there.
So, no work yet.
football all over the place, it’s a little late to bring up baseball but I
must tell you about the day the Dodgers put me through at the wind-up of that
Series. I’m baseball nutty and
the kids think I’m crazy when the Series game is on the radio. I broke my neck to get a big washing done so I wouldn’t
have that thrashing to listen over. Lunch
was ready and over early. I had
sewing handy so my time wouldn’t’ be wasted while I listened.
Now, tell me, who is this guy Arthur Godfrey who gets so wrought up over
games? In my rush I put two of the
girls’ pretty sweaters in the washer - they went in size 6 and came out size 6
months! I canned peaches in a
pressure cooker at 20 lbs. for 5 minutes instead of 5 lbs. for 20 minutes!
And during that last inning I nearly lost my best friend when she called
me on the phone and the ringing drove me nuts.
When it was all over and the Dodgers lost, I was in worse shape than any
of them. And they cut Leo into the
cash instead of me!
you heard about the glorious display of Northern Lights we had here this past
month. So did I.
With what I thought was rare foresight, I made arrangements with a pal to
telephone me if/when such came to pass. I’ve
seen them up here several times and they are beyond description.
This gal lives on a hill with a bedroom which commands a mighty view of
the heavens and she prowls around all night.
So, I think I’m sitting pretty. Then,
she goes to California for a visit. I
could have screamed when I heard the reports the next day. My luck!
Chapter 2, Charles and I saw a fight in our back yard the
other day between a tough old tom cat and our Petie Dink (the squirrel) which
was a classic and ended in a draw. Talk
about Africa’s Jungles!
of Lorraine” is the current show at the Community and very good it is, too.
Even our kids were attentive.
But the exciting news about Community is that we were
robbed. No fooling.
some professional crooks broke in over the Columbus Day holiday, blew off
the front of our safe and got $800. We
were shocked; they were very pleased with themselves, no doubt.
the music lessons. I’m glad to
report that there seems to have been a slight grand-opening of my head and music
is beginning to penetrate my skull which has successfully rebuffed it for lo!
these many years. I can even
remember a couple of oldies now.
had a guest this month. Mary
Fennessy, a woman who lived here as a child, returned to the scene of the crime
and was overjoyed with the things we have done to the old place.
It made us feel good.
time I must report an accident. Charles
let a wrench slip and smashed the middle finger of his left hand last week.
It is still as big as a small cucumber, has to be bathed hourly in hot
Epsom salts but so far no infection has set in and X-rays show no break.
But he has a very sore paw and it temporarily on the “retired” list
as far as getting any work out of him is concerned. Progress has stopped, still.
should just see my pink violets, that’s all.
A Pink Lady and a Pink Beauty are in full bloom and are lovely to behold.
Now I’m being asked for cultural directions. Here’s my hap-hazzard
In shot glasses, so the leaves can’t get into the water,
I root pairs of leaves in a bright, bright window that gets all the morning sun
until noon. But the leaves MUST be
from a mature plant or else they deteriorate in the water. In a couple of weeks little thread-like roots start to form
and I move them gently thereafter to keep them from clinging to the sides of the
When about 1-inch of sturdy roots have developed, I plant
them in small pots in a mixture of plain garden dirt and fine sand.
Then I stick these pots into Old Fashioned glasses so that they are kept
up off the bottom of the glass and put them on the shelf in the same bright
window. Once a week these babies
get a good watering that leaves enough in the glass to cover the last I/2 inch
of the bottom of the pot. When
evaporation lowers the water in a day or two I let the soil get fairly dry, then
give them a short drink to tide them over to the big one a the beginning of the
week. In about two weeks, three at
most, the plant appears at the bottom of the planted leaf stem.
Continue soaking once a week, drying out partly and then a small drink.
Now, for my last trick.
You must not let water touch the leaves of an African violet if the sun
will hit it before that leaf can dry off. They
just turn to mush if you do. But in
the tropics it rains a lot at night. So, I do all my watering from the top, around the
roots, with a long-nosed can AT NIGHT. Simple.
Then I don’t have to bother about hauling them out of the glasses,
making messes, etc.
One more thing. If
your best window gets only afternoon sun, put them there but let curtains hold
back the burning rays. The cool
bright sun in an East window is the best but West will do if you dim it.
Not through shyness but simply as an oversight, I forgot to inform you
people that I am now a real estate salesman.
Yep. Got my license an’
everythin’. So, if any of you
decide to buy a million dollar job in New York state, kindly give me your trade.
I’ll appreciate it - financially.
now looking for clothes especially for a 4-year old girl - and her name is NOT
Christine Mary Angione. I’ve
handed out so much or YOUR clothes, etc. in these six years, I get calls from
all over the place. It’s a nice
A poor, childless couple here talked so often about how
they would treat a child if they only had one, in comparison to the neglect nice
neighbor children received, an unwanted baby girl was dumped on their doorstep
one day nearly four years ago. They
have obtained the mother’s release of the child and friends have loaned them a
the money for the court expense. They
adore her but they are quite poor and they do need things for her.
Under the circumstances, though, they cannot turn to any but the most
private aid or their adoption cannot go through.
So, I’ll add my donation and pass on anything you can spare.
We were given 3 bushels of butternuts and 1/2 bushel of black walnuts and
we’ve been driving ourselves nuts trying to dry all of those nuts in
competition with Petie Dink and all his known relatives.
He thought he had hit the jackpot for sure and now we have to tie
O’Toole to the grape arbor whenever we decide to sun the nuts.
And being a first class loafer, O’Toole objects to minding them,
believe me. He loves chasing the
squirrels, of course, but flies through the air when he comes suddenly to the
end of his long rope. It’s a
little riot every clear day.
to the Antique Show last night and my teeth are watering yet from some of the
lovely things on display but I had enough sense to leave my money home.
From a neighbor who is breaking up her home, though, I did
get a black walnut, marble top bureau and commode for my room.
Maybe the museum doesn’t want them but I do and I love both.
That’s my Christmas present.
SMALL FRY: Howard
had a bad cold and fits along with it when he had to go to bed with same because
he was afraid he would not be able to be present at a demonstration for some
visiting gentry up at the school. He
reads quite well and he wanted Sister to have his support.
He made it but his ability to get sick in the clinches is ungodly.
Paulie has the cold now but she is the best patient in the
world. Like her mother (and I can
hear a couple of doctors groan over this) she can diagnose her own case, too.
“I don’t feel good,” she says.
“I need my white cold med’cine Dr. You gave me.”
Or, if an allergy attack is on-coming, “Give me some of dat pink stuff
dat guy who bettered my eyes gave me, Mummy.”
But never a word between doses unless she is so bad off she asks to be
put to bed. What a girl.
Chris is the current charmer. We’ve lately had a lot of visitors who prefer her quietness
to Jonsie’s’ pep. And it’s
good for Chris because most people are taken with this flashy Paulie who
doesn’t give a darn as long as she’s in good with Mummy and Daddy.
Such a difference in two sisters is hard to believe.
SIGN OFF: Now
I’ve got to go to bed. But I do
want some of you, and you know whom, to know that we loved the grand letters
we’ve had from you recently. ‘Way
up here in the sticks it is so nice to hear from you in detail about what is
going on “outside.” Some of you
seem to be having rather high adventures, too.
Love to all and good night.