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Tuesday, 11/28/44, 8:45 p.m. In bed
in my blue p.j. that you bought me
Xmas ’42—Champaigne [sic], Ill.
I wish I wasn’t so very realistic—I would so very much like to believe that the war will be over by Xmas! But I can’t see that point, can you?
Sanf just left. He stopped over after work so that I could tell him a little bit more about what I hear from you. Sanf is the only one that I really bother to read parts of your letters, too [sic]. In the meanwhile I washed Sanf’s hair with Vita Fluff—it amazed him to note how much less dandruff he had! Then, we wrote a letter to Burr, Patterson & Auld about his ring. Then, of course, the folks came in & we “bulled.” By the way, Sanf got a big “kick” out of the way Ukie & I & Mom are buying & wrapping gifts for each other for Xmas & he’s joining in the merriment, I believe!
Honey, I still have to take a bath & be up by 7:30 tomorrow—I’m working 9-5 tomorrow—so, good-night, my love—I’ll dream of you tonight as I do every night.
I love you,