CHRISTMAS CHAOS AND AMAZING FREIGHT
Greencastle, Indiana
Dec. 26, 1930
Dear Sister Margaret: Yesterday was Christmas Day. Of course we had far too much of everything: two big crocks of oysters, about 150 biscuits, a 24- pound turkey, and so on—you know how Aura does thing—so we will have a hard time getting things eaten before they get too old and dry.
We spent the day mostly at home. The children all got a good many presents. Grandma Sawyer has been sending things for the past month or two. She has the world beat. She actually sent about a peck of apples all rolled up in a mattress, or feather tick. First we get a head and foot board of a bed; then she finds out she forgot the rails, and they come separately; then in a few days the slats come on independent; then we find they are the wrong slats, and also that one of the rails sent belongs to another bed back there. . . She sent a sort of tea wagon—that is she first sent the frame part with the glass imbedded in it—it was one she had in one of the houses and one fine morning decided that Aura should have a tea wagon. That came through in enough crating to make kindling for two or three months. In about two weeks, here came another crate with the greater part of the balance of said tea wagon. But on careful investigation and splicing, we found one wheel gone and also one handle. She had retained the one wheel to get it fixed, so in due time, it came. Later the missing handle was located and sent. And all the time, these various parts and pieces come by parcel post, freight and express, as the spirit moves her. By some strange coincidence the freight invariably comes over different railroads. We will get the main parts, say via Big 4, the slats via Monon and the rails by way of the Pennsylvania; then a "cunning" little dinky that Grandma saw in a shop in Middletown and figured would match the wheels of the tea wagon so nicely, will come by parcel post, and so it goes. The freight men at the various depots have come to look on me and my consignments of freight in amazement. . .
We had a terrible time getting to sleep last night. Since Frank has been home, things have been going along pretty smoothly. The girls were glad to see him, and he to see the girls. But it couldn't last. I saw Jane and Joan getting their heads together a good deal yesterday afternoon, and finally Schweet Babe got in it. Frank and I were playing casino. The girls were upstairs, then went out to a picture show or something. Frank was a little nervous. Finally he went upstairs and came back after a long absence and said that Joan had put soap chips all through his bed. He had cleaned it out, and had filled Joan's bed full of nut shells. Then she came home looking suspiciously, eased upstairs evidently to learn if Frank had found out what had happened to his bed. She found hers and had to take everything off and shake the covers, and then it started. No great noise, but much shutting of doors, running here and there, low whispering, giggling—and everything except going to bed. I stayed out of it, and in the wee small hours of the night, the house settled down and everybody this morning was too sleepy to get up for breakfast. So that is the way it goes. Andrew