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[10-2-56]

Tues.

Dear Mother,

Thanks for your call last night. I'd been
meaning to write you, but every night that
I come home to settle down & write a letter
or something, someone comes over to talk
or be fed. I can always tell when someone
is coming over, if I feel like coming
home from work & taking a nap.

Pardon the pencil, but that pen was impossible.
I'm up at the shop, tonite, watching
future speed records being invented.
Your last letter was very much appreciated,
as also were the enclosures, all of them.

As Paula says, our place is "really shaping"
I put most of the landlady's little pink -
nicks in a box in the shed. I would
have removed more, but it would have
left a lot of bare nails on the wall.
On several occasions, Paula has severely
exhausted herself doing the dusting
& wiping up the kitchen. She does such
loads of dishes up at Rudy's, that the
dab that constitutes a sinkful in our
kitchen is nothing. She loves to mop, so
she mops the linoleum floor in my room
& I vacum the rug in hers.

Jim just put his motorcycle together
& is breaking it in, so on Sundays & non-
working hours, we go riding to put miles on it.