BECKET GAL

Got on my boots and shorts and tank top and hat and skeeter spray and headed out to the north (south, east and west) forty with Outside Bob and his chain saw this afternoon and golly, boy, whee, we shore did do some heavy choppin and cuttin an cullin. Place looks a helluva sight better for it too, I reckon. Bob only got hisself stung twice by a herd a bees, and I took a tumble yankin out some pesky prickers, but nothing broke and no ticks and the sunlight's now streamin in where it aint seen daylight in ten years and I am one pleased petunia. 

On top of which, this morning I set Peg a task, which she actually completed: signing cards and photos from people who asked for autographs---about 5 years ago. Or more. Found a huge pile of unanswered requests and felt sick that she'd ignored them. How does this happen?? I know years ago she had Aunt Helen aka The Perfect Secretary to sort things and make her sign stuff and find stamps and--but anyone who's worked here has been capable of that too. It's Peg. It's all her. She makes some excuse. "No no no, give me that, I'LL answer him, I want to write a letter..."

And then usually, she never does, and we never see the letter again. Some of these requests are so old that the paper clips attaching the return already-addressed and stamped envelopes are rusty. Are these people even still alive? Still at this address? Who knows? I just could not bear to throw them out. They were so kind, the letters so grateful. Little dreaming they were addressing a person who would file their request carefully in a box full of scotch tape rolls, a New York Times Book Review, a curler, and assorted catheter bags.
__________________________
FAVOURITE LETTER SO FAR:

To the Mentholatum Company. A fan letter. Peg's idea, who has been using it apparently since she was five and her mother--Dr. Charlie Mayo's (of the Mayo Clinic's Mayos) personal orthopedic nurse--tucked a little metal container of it in her school bag after her tonsils have been removed. And it is still in her purse. I do not joke. Actually, it was a funny letter. Typed on her ancient IBM Selectric and full of typos but that's half the charm. I rolled my eyes a little bit when she said what she was doing but having read it, I will now be extremely pissed off at the CEO of Mentholatum Inc if Peg gets no reply. And I will write to the CEO chewing him out, too. Because of course I have nothing else to do.
__________________________
TODAY'S BACKGROUND FILM:

A Claudette Colbert double feature: Tomorrow Is Forever, opposite George Brent and Orson Welles. And It Happened One Night, with Gable. Why Peg was glued, I have no idea why since Colbert was rude and rather imperious and never spoke to her when they did a General Motors 50th Anniversary TV Spectacular together in the mid 50s.
___________________________
TONIGHT'S DINNER:

Salmon Loaf, don't gag, it's not bad, and baked potatoes. Her mother's recipe. The timer just dinged and I know Peg has fallen back asleep. I woke her at 5 PM, she said she was trying to be quiet and stall getting up so as not to wake me. I told her it wasn't morning, it was evening  She has no sense of time whatsoever. But is reading Davud Sedaris and laughing so I forgive her. Even though yesterday she took all the dishes out of the dishwasher and washed them by hand for no other reason than she "didnt know if they were clean in there or dirty".

Denis arrives tomorrow. I'm glad.