I wrote this note to Jim back in 1981. I don't think he was out of town; I think I just wrote it and put it his lunch bag or something. At this time, we lived in our friends Tom and Liz Head's house, in the Garthwick neighborhood in Sellwood. It was pretty much above our station, but Tom and Liz were gracious enough to rent it to us while they were away at school. Patrick was not born yet - he was still 10 months away. I was 30 years old, not working at the shop at this point, but being a stay-at-home mom. Henry was 1, Myra was 6, and Saul was 5. Jim was 32.
2/24/81 1 pm
Dear Jim,
You are holding in your beautiful hand a letter from Patty written on Coffee Man stationery. This is truly your lucky day, for I am not a bill collector (rather, I am an impediment to bill paying) and I am not a complaining letter writer. However, I just want to say, for your own information, that I'm disappointed to see you make the big time, I liked your old place better, and your apricot tea is even creepier than you think it is. I don't usually do this sort of thing but I just wanted you to know.
Now I'll stop trying to be funny.
I know this is a little bit silly writing to you, but I hope it it gives you a lift.
Either Henry is poopy or my beans are getting real. He is tearing a napkin into little pieces and throwing them all around the room. He seems to find this educational and very serious.
Have you ever wondered what I do all day? Well, here is a sample schedule:
Patty's Typical Day
7:30 am: After you leave, I rush about getting Myra off and Henry fed. Myra leaves at 8:10.
8-9 am: Shower, make bed, change kids' sheets, start laundry
9-10:30 am: Henry naps, I sweep and sometimes mop, do dishes, make bread, get another load in the washer. Saul goofs around and asks me to buy him stuff.
10:30 - 2: Get Henry up, put away laundry, fix lunch, put Saul to bed, play with Henry, put Henry to bed 2 pm.
2-3 pm: PEACE. Read, write letters, do obsessive type housework, etc.
3 until Jim comes home: All hell breaks loose. Myra comes home, Saul and Henry wake up, FIGHTS, I start dinner and yell a lot, sometimes we go for a walk. Then sweet Jimo comes home and throttles all the naughty people and we all settle down
Now that's what I call TV!
I guess I'm writing a letter when I should be playing with Henry. Uh oh.
I love you, honey. If this letter was fun for you to read, I'll be glad.
Henry IS poopy. I"ll change him now and then send him off to play with our cast iron lawn dog. It is so good with the children.
SELL THEM SAMITCHES!
Love, She Who Must Be Obeyed
PS. I've discovered that no one else lives in our neighborhood but us and Mrs. Cook. No wonder perhaps!
