Rimbey, Alberta, June 12, 1936
I received your letter on Tuesday and was certainly glad to get it. Its the first one for over a month and it does me good. We only get mail delivery twice a week here. If I’d stayed in Nanton I would have got it some time sooner. It was a dandy too – everything in it was interesting. Well I’ll try to go on from where I left off last time.
We finished our job on the Thursday at noon the day you got my letter and we just bummed around town for the rest of the day and part of Friday, then we decided to come up here. We got to Calgary as you’ll know by the card I expect you received. We fooled around there looking at the city until about eleven o’clock, then pulled out to the top of a hill to sleep. We didn’t get up till the sun was high up in the sky next morning, and then got going again. We arrived here Saturday evening about five o’clock.
On the way we saw a good many fields of stooked grain that had never been thrashed. The hail had shelled it so badly it wasn’t worth thrashing. That’s the kind of country this is, very undependable. I’ve been driving six and eight horses at a time – it’s quite nice for a change. I feel as if I’m doing something.
As I said before, we arrived here on a Saturday. Well I sowed grain on the following Sunday and ploughed with six horses on Monday and several days hence. Oh! I mustn’t forget to tell you I was given a government job shortly after I reached Alberta. I was on the road surveying and cutting brush for a few days. Isn’t that getting up in the world, working for the government?
I was ploughing about two and a half miles from here today and a thunderstorm came up without much warning. I turned toward the old barn and just got there in time for the hail and rain started to come and did it come! The hail was no ordinary size either. I couldn’t get the horses to go around to the side of the barn where the door was because the storm was blowing so hard. They just stayed in shelter beside the barn. Of course I had to stay and watch them, and got sort of damp.
There was supposed to be a dance in Bluffton tonight and I suppose we would have gone only the rain made the roads so muddy. You see they don’t gravel the roads in the pioneer district and they certainly get greasy with very little rain. The soil is mostly clay.
I guess by the time this reaches Ontario you’ll be home so I’ll address it to Turners. How was our Blanche when you last saw her? I guess I’d better write to her, I do so enjoy her letters and I guess that’s the only way of getting one. That certainly is interesting about the colt and the calves, that’s what I’d call real news. It’s much better than a lot of idle gossip.
I hope you’ll forgive me kid, something tragic happened to that letter you sent and I only had a chance to read it once. The boss’s wife says she noticed an envelope in the sweeping but thought it one of her old letters, so it went into the stove. I guess that’s what happened. I remember you saying you didn’t want to go out and not enjoy yourself. That’s swell of you because I feel the same way myself. I’ve also met a lot of people, of course some very nice girls too, but they’ll have to go some distance yet to come up near the mark of a little girl I know in the east.
We’ve almost decided to go to the coast in July for the jubilee there. What do you think of that? Then when harvest is over we can go back home if we don’t land a job here or something. I think it will be much nicer travelling in July than late in November. There ought to be more to see while the jubilee is on. I’ll try to take a swim in the Pacific Ocean. Won’t that be something. Of course I’ll send you some cards from Victoria and Vancouver.
I asked Harold if he could think of any news. He said King George died and King Eddie is now on the throne. He says to threaten you that he might write to you sometime. Well kid, my brain is beginning to go hooey again. I know you’ll be thinking I’ve neglected to write but I couldn’t get it away any sooner anyway, so I guess you’ll just have to wait. You can keep sending my mail to Nanton because I’ll likely be going back there before long. I’ll be looking for a letter before long kid, so I’ll be signing off. I wish I could think of more to write to the best girl in the world, but seeing it’s impossible –
I’ll be thinking of my darling until I hear from her,