My Dearest Naomi (31 page)

Mom was at the quilting today, and she spoke with Mildred Helmuth. She said they do have a wedding planned for the last week of May. That would leave one of the first weeks of June open for us, if you agree to having the wedding there.

Oh, the reason Darrel wasn’t there on Sunday is because he had to babysit for a niece or nephew. So it looks like he still plans to continue coming.

I wrote a letter to Jolene today, thanking her for the good time we had on the trip. I like letters to friends better than I do these circle letters, which get kind of impersonal. Of course, writing to you is even better than letters to friends.

Thank you for the poem in your last letter. If I could write like that, the words would mean the same thing. I miss you much.

Lots of love,

Naomi

February 25

Greetings from the great flatlands of Iowa. My pride has been greatly mortified and dragged in the dust again by Luella’s hand. This woman is a terror, not only of the high seas but of dwelling places on the dry land.

I had only arrived home from Bible study two nights ago, crawling safely into bed, when a little noise started around my desk. I ignored it the first time, trying to get my sleep, but it continued, rattling and buzzing away, sounding like a little mouse making a nest in my desk drawer.

I leaped out of bed with my flashlight and went after the thing, determined to give the mouse at least a good scare before it made off. Naturally it quit the minute I got up.

I opened the door into the hall and shone the light around, but there was nothing there. I checked in the closet to no avail. Climbing back into bed, I snuggled under the covers—and here came the mouse again, digging merrily away. Starting then stopping.

This time I tiptoed out of bed and stood beside the wall, listening. The supposed mouse kept repeating itself every so often, the sound seeming to come from inside the wall. I checked the attic again, but the sound came from the wall toward my room. So I figured it must be inside the wall, and there was little I could do about it other than pound the drywall and try to scare the thing away.

I figured that would awaken Lonnie and Luella, but something had to be done, so I pounded a couple of times and quiet came to my room. The next morning at the breakfast table I told the tale and received vehement denials from both Lonnie and Luella to even the possibility of mice being in the house. But Luella was glad a reasonable explanation for my pounding had now been presented. They had wondered whether I was losing my mind from loneliness.

“Anyhow,” Luella said, “first it’s your alarm clock, and now it’s mice in the wall.”

She was referring to the trouble I’ve been having with my alarm clock.

Lonnie suggested the noise might come from the furnace pipes, but I knew it didn’t. Mice and furnace pipes rattling are not the same sound. Not even close.

I asked them if I could call them next time instead of pounding on the walls, and they agreed.

Then last night, sure enough, I was heading for the bed and the mouse takes off, vigorously digging away in the wall. I grabbed my flashlight and searched carefully again. There was nothing to be found, so I went to the stairwell and called down to the living room, hoping they were still up.

“Am I supposed to come up?” Lonnie called back, a few minutes later.

“If you want to hear it,” I said.

He grunted something and came up the stairs and stood beside my desk to listen. Soon the supposed mouse took off again, just digging away.

“It sounds as if it’s coming from under your desk,” Lonnie said.

And it did, indeed. So I took a hold of the desk, pulling it away from the wall. And what should fall out but a plastic dish with a spool of thread spinning inside.

I traced the thread out under the door and down over the open stairwell. It didn’t take much imagination to assume who was at the other end. I could have died from humiliation. Lonnie split into gales of laughter, holding his sides from the pain. I went downstairs from a lack of anything better to do, and there was Luella, seated on the floor, her back against the wall, literally in tears she was laughing so hard.

She pulled the string again with one hand to add insult to injury. Finally able to speak, she asked me if the furnace pipes were having problems again. That woman is the limit!

I kept this letter over one day so I could show it to Lonnie and Luella. Luella read it out loud at the breakfast table. There were places where she had to stop reading, she was laughing so hard.

Love you,

Eugene

February 26

It’s a gorgeous Saturday morning, and I feel rather peppy. I see Don is hauling manure from the barn, which means plowing is coming soon if the weather gets any warmer. I hope or the stink will overwhelm us all.

I quick-cleaned the basement this morning, and now I’ll have to do something with my room.

I’m glad you liked that booklet. I was afraid you hadn’t received it because it took so long to get there.

Well, I have to get this out to the mailbox and get to work.

I love you,

Naomi

February 27

This finds us in the Amish community at 4:31 p.m. I’m presently bored half to death. I must have misunderstood about the church attendance because we did go after all. That part was good, and I also enjoyed visiting the school yesterday. It’s very similar to ours at home, with two teachers, one for the lower grades and one for the upper.

After church I could almost picture you sitting across on the girls’ side, and me checking to see if you were ready to leave. When I went out to the barn with all the horses there, I wished mine would have been amongst them so I could hitch the horse to the buggy and pick you up at the sidewalk.

This afternoon I took a walk down the road out of sheer boredom. After I had gone a ways, this young couple pulls up in their buggy and the guy yells out, “You want a ride?”

“No,” I said, “I’m not really going anywhere.”

“Well,” he said, “our house is just down the road a piece. Stop in and have some popcorn when you get there.” So that’s what I did.

They had only been married last year, they told me, and had a little girl in the crib. I assumed it was their child, but the man said they were taking care of her for his brother-in-law.

I was really looking forward to the youth hymn singing, but they said it wasn’t a good idea for visitors to attend right then, as they were having problems with their wild young folks. There was a smaller group of decent young folks who got together, they said, and I guess I should have gone there, but I didn’t. My enthusiasm had left me at that point.

Oh, you don’t have to worry about me becoming wild or cutting my hair in ways that are against the
ordnung
. I look the same boring way I always have.

I’m in a perfect fury. I came home from school to find your letter taped to the inside of the mailbox, where I had to work twenty minutes to extract it. As soon as I pulled the door open, I knew what was up. Of course, Luella was close at hand to go into gales of laughter. You can’t get around that woman.

And here’s another example of how well my jokes fly. On the way home last night I asked Lonnie and Luella if they would have stayed till midnight if I had wanted to take an Amish girl home. Luella turned around in her seat and glared at me, and they both shouted, “No!”

“You could have walked home,” Luella said.

For crying out loud, I was only teasing.

Ha! But I did get to pay you back for your Hooley rides. Several of the girls picked me up last night for the ride to the youth gathering. But, as usual, my jokes aren’t that great. I didn’t even enjoy the ride.

With lots of love,

Eugene

February 28

I hope your cold is gone by now. I’m still feeling a little run over from the attack of the flu again on Saturday night. I woke up with a headache, which got progressively worse all day.

Church was at Abe Miller’s, and after lunch I told Mom we needed to go home as soon as possible. She hurried through helping in the kitchen, and then told Dad to get the buggy ready. After a good nap and two aspirins, I was ready for the evening hymn singing, but I still felt rough during the night.

I worked on a new dress this forenoon and had the care of John Bach this afternoon. We didn’t make it back until after chores, so Mom had to help Dad.

Rosanna went to see the doctor today about a problem she’s had for some time. She was diagnosed with a heart murmur. Dr. Roland wants her to see a specialist, but they don’t know yet if much can be done anyway. Mom thinks the murmur was probably there since childhood, as she would have these spells growing up when it was hard to breathe.

I don’t remember anyone ever saying anything, so perhaps it wasn’t as bad as what the problem has become.

Well, I seriously need to get my sleep.

I love you,

Naomi

March 2

How does this find you? I hope all is well. I’m thinking of you often. You are so very far away.

No letter arrived today, but there was one from home, which is second best, I guess. My sister Susie said she thinks you are working on your wedding dress but are keeping things under wraps. Is this so? Are you going to show the dress to me when I get home or will the old ways prevail? I don’t know that I care either way, although it would be nice to see the dress for the first time on the morning of the wedding.

Also, one of the table waiters I wanted didn’t work out. I received a letter from Louis yesterday saying that other things might interfere. That can only mean one thing, he is getting married. So we now have a vacancy.

I also received another letter today from your buggy friend, Darrell Hooley. This is a portion of what he had to say:

You have a really sweet girl, Eugene. She is a bubble of fun and a joy to be around. I don’t get to see her that often, as Harvey’s young folks usually cart me around. But the times she and her brother have picked me up for the hymn singings I have thoroughly enjoyed myself. She is one of the funniest Amish girls I have met. I was telling them on the way home of the problem we have keeping our car windshields clean with bugs hitting them all the time, and how Amish buggies are much gentler on the nightlife.

She said, “Well, you’d go splat too if you hit an
Englisha’s
car at fifty-five miles an hour.”

Thanks so much for sharing her with me.

Sounds like you know him quite well. But I did write a nice letter back to him, and I hope he continues coming to church.

The school has the maple sugar camp tour coming up next week. It’s been planned for over a month, with the school board members’ wives in charge. When Loretta picked up her children today, she brought me a firm date.

This news is a bit late, but the lunch exchange went well last week. Everyone seemed to enjoy it, but I didn’t take part because of my strict diet. Plus, who wants to eat only rabbit food?

I have the calendar you gave me for Christmas hanging at the school, and people are still commenting on it. It’s really nice, and both the words and pictures are beautiful. Thanks again.

I’ve lost track how many times I’ve read through the booklet you made for me. It means a lot to me, and it’s wonderful that you love me.

You are a dear.

Eugene

March 2

What a gorgeous day and so springlike. Yesterday Dad tilled the garden, and I think Mom is going to plant lettuce and radishes today. Between the two of us, it shouldn’t take too long.