Bessie Morgan Rex. Letter June 23, 1937.

Choke Cherry Blossoms from Wikipedia.

 

Randolph, Utah

Wednesday, June 23, 1937.

My dear boy,

Well, this is your sister’s new typewriter, that is, the writing, and this is your mother doing the thinking of it. I have been making FLORA a dress, but stopped to get this written. You see, last Sunday was conference, and last week I was a very busy woman. Then Sunday there were meetings all day until nine at night, so I had no chance to write.  Clara was down to the afternoon meeting, but her folks had gone to Provo to visit. She is still a very sweet girl, so don’t worry if you don’t hear from her all the time.

I must tell you. Ben [Rex] gave Afton [James] a diamond last week. Oh me. You know Afton, and how she would act.

It is beautiful weather here now. We thought it would never warm up, but finally summer has come. Aunt Edna [Rex] took me to Monte last evening. It is so beautiful up there. The roads are grand. No dust; and the scenery is gorgeous. I suppose though you are used to beautiful scenery. Mr. Murray from the college was here yesterday. He asked about you. Did you ever write him? He would be delighted to hear from you. Excuse letters missed and extra spaces. This is a funny little jigger to work, and I shall have to get used to it. I am going to practice the touch system though. Maybe some day I shall want a job. I am wondering what to tell you. We didn’t get a letter from you this week, and I surely missed it. Nothing much happens up here. It was Mutual and Relief Society conference convention, so we just had board members from the organizations. It was very good though, but I must confess the women were the best speakers.

There are some choke cherry blossoms we gathered yesterday, on the buffet and they surely do smell sweet. Are there tall pines and quaken asp groves down there, or are they distinctly American, or Rocky Mountain. They are most beautiful anyway. I brought down a few shrubs, so maybe by the time you come home they will be growing well.

They played “Red Sails in the Sunset” the other night on the radio, and Oh dear, did I get homesick to see my boy. Willard Tingey sails the 28^th for home. Doesn’t seem like he has been gone two years tough. His father always asks me how that Brazilian is. Oh, and Mr. Guymon told me to tell you hello.

Mr. Jackson is working in his garden. Cant you see him, grubbing along each row, clearing out every weed. He gets a little slower each year, and a little more crippled. Poor old fellow. Did we tell you Ina was going to be married. She is going to marry Patriarch Easton’s son. They live in Diamondville. However the patriarch did two weeks ago. Do you remember him?

Did I tell you Helen gave me a lovely pressure cooker for our wedding day. It is a beauty. I shall put [up] plenty of vegetables this summer. I feel so much better now, and have a little ambition to do things, for which I am very glad. I shall cook you a nice dinner in it when you come home, in just thirty to forty five minutes.

Maeser is going out with the bulls this next week. I object, but that doesn’t help any. His father says you were much smaller than he when you first went out. Well, be that as it may, I think father gets some things mixed, and I am afraid, by the time his boys are grown he will have them doing certain things when they were mere infants. Maeser is such a little wart, I think it is too much for his constitution. Of  course I do remember you piled on a horse and off to the hills when you looked like a little pickle sitting up there, but your father was usually with you, wasn’t he?

I am beginning to get tired sitting here, so I must stop for a while and do something else. This is going to be a joy though. Say, Winnie keeps asking about missionaries to Brazil, but there haven’t been any yet. I am sorry we haven’t got those things that you wanted, to you.

 

Well, here it is the next morning and I must finish this and get it off with Helen’s letter. No wonder she could write to fill pages. She indents so far, that half of the page is empty.

Well, Maeser got off this morning, with his lips all greased. They have to go over the whole east range during breakfast. Remember. It is a beautiful day, and I must work outside before the mosquitoes get too thick. They are plenty this summer, but of course that is a sign that things are growing.

Well, my dearie, write each week. I believe you have more time than we do. I suppose you don’t think so. Well, anyway, we love to get your letters, so write long ones. Must close now and get this off. We all send best love, and mother sends an extra lot, prayiong that the Lord will ever bless you in your work.

Lovingly,