You'll never guess, Dear, so I'll just have to blurt it out: Louise and Linguini have tied the knot! Isn't that perfectly wonderful? The two of them, finding love in their well, past their primes, I'm quite sure. . .I have lent them Franco for a honeymoon trip to the seashore. I'm afraid with all three of them gone for a week I shall be quite helpless. Fanny says she knows how to make s'mores and bumps on a log. And I suppose taking a cab to whereever I need to go is not the worst thing in the world. But answering my own door? I should say not! A lady does not come when she hears a bell. In this respect she is unlike a dog. With respect to a certain preoccupation with breeding and pedigree, however, there may be some similarities.

Do let me know how you are doing, Pearl, and if your medical trials are easing. Oh I do hope they are and that you will be able to come for a visit when Louise returns.


I Remain As Always, Your Devoted Miss Blue

The Fish Bowl

The Story of the Fish Bowl


I happily raised my hand when Sister Mary Angelena
wanted to know if anyone in our 2nd grade class
had a large fish bowl at home. She wished she could have
a fish bowl in our room so that we could learn about
the swimming and eating habits of goldfish
It would sit on a table at the back of the room -
a table reserved exclusively for nature - replacing
the Barn Owl that we had learned all about
(he was stuffed, of course).

And so I hurried home to tell my parents all about
the new plan for our 2nd grade room. My father,
impressed with my precociousness, allowed our fish
to be transferred to the bathtub, in their own "fish"water,
along with the little sandstone castle and artificial greenery.
The operation was fascinating to me and to the three gold fish;
they, well one of them, flipped upside down
and my father uttered a swear word
while we prayed to St Anthony for forgiveness.

The Beautiful Glass Fish Bowl was washed and dried
and wrapped in many sheets of paper to protect it during
the walk to my school. We took turns, my sister Marion and I,
carrying the fish bowl. Sister Mary Angelena was waiting
at the entrance of the school. She seemed anxious but happy
to retrieve the bowl from our small selves.

Everyone gathered around while the fish bowl was placed
on the table at the back of the room. Five gold fish
that had been brought to school by another opportunistic student,
along with fish food and red stone-like castles
and bridges for the fish to hide in, and green shrubs
and a few colorful marbles. We took turns arranging things
and then watched proudly while Sister Mary Angelena
placed the five squirming fish safely in their new home.
It was all so Wonderful!

And so each morning we marched back to the fish bowl
to feed and observe the behavior of the gold fish.
We all had assignments for individual feedings.
We tapped on the bowl when we sprinkled in the fish food.
We were learning all about Nature, we said to one another.

Meanwhile my father had bought a new fish bowl
and our own fish were finally out of the bathtub.
My mother was firm about that!

Everyone was impressed with the
Beautiful Round Glass Fish Bowl.

April Fool

Dearest Pearl,

Another campaign to make the world a better place. You are unstoppable, Pearl, and I hope that all your running about on trains passing out flyers and pleading for money to pay the bills does not make you too cranky about the human condition. Some will turn you down no matter how charmingly you plead. Houses with names, they'll tell you, are houses that deserve to be ignored. Our own houses, they'll say, have addresses, not names. Oh, it will be an uphill battle, Pearl, getting the little people to care about The Mount. You mustn't breathe a word about The Lanterns, of course. Oh, and speaking of lanterns, wasn't it Edith's insight that "there are two ways of spreading the light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it." Isn't that just the story of our own friendship, dear friend?

I Remain Your Devoted Miss Blue

What Emily Dickinson Said About Fame

I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?

Then there’s a pair of us—don’t tell!
They'd banish us, you know.

How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog

To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!

Birthday Party Exclusive November 5, 1929

A Birthday Party for Me

She said, “We’ll see”

Wasn’t it all so perfect:
Halloween finally over - the
last hurdle behind me and November 5.
Alone, I imagined the celebration
of my 7th birthday

My mother’s love for me surely
would win me The Party.
Was she buying the little
crepe paper baskets?
The baskets to set on the table
next to the crepe paper fancy hats
next to the many colored paper plates
With scalloped edges (more expensive
than the plain colored ones)?
And of course the paper horns
(I really wanted the paper horns),
candy corn, gum drops, three layered
butterscotch cake and chocolate ice cream.
Maybe even popcorn balls. Would she have
Time to make the popcorn balls?
Not to worry.

Then the Plan

My second grade room,
in the red brick building,
That was Saint Bernard's Catholic School
was a friendly place
run by Sister Mary Angelena.
I really wanted to invite her.
She told me her prayers
didn’t include birthday parties
during the weekdays.

It was hard to choose seven friends
without hurting anyone’s feelings.
But at last the seven were selected
and invited separately with loving hugs &
kisses. They did ask about the invitations
(they said their mothers needed to know)
It’s the Depression, I humbly explained.
They assured me that their mothers
wouldn’t mind not having the invitations
and they all agreed to come
on the the 5th of November
right after school.

Party Day

And then the day came:
Hurrying to school ,
hurrying through the day,
exchanging happy glances
with one another -
the anticipation
of the party just ahead!

Finally Sister Mary Angelena
rang the little bell on the corner of her desk
that commanded us to gather
up our possessions
and ushered us all out
into the cold November air.
Classes were over for the day.

Marching to the front of the group,
I pointed out the way to the party.
We all held hands.
And just as we were about to
begin our five block journey,
we were intercepted by Marion,
my very serious 3rd grade sister.

You are having a birthday party, Ruthie?
she asked in disbelief. And without waiting for an answer
she was on her way to alert our mother.
I thought at the time that it was very
nice of her to help our mother give my party.

We were happily imagining
the paper hats, the little crepe paper baskets
filled with candy corn and peanuts,
the cunning crepe paper hats shaped like
tulips and roses
and the horns that played our own tunes
and the beautiful butterscotch cake
with the seven candles
and the games - every game with a prize for the lucky winner-
oh the dream of it all.

The Place, 3550 Monclair

That was our address.
Our apartment house was
a lovely brown and tan brick building
with a beautiful brass and glass door in front
and four floors of apartments.
We lived in a front apartment -
my mother and father and baby sister -
just two apartment buildings
from Charlevoix, the street of fancy
stores and St Bernard’s Catholic School and Church.

Some Second Thoughts

My mother had two Looks;
The Smile she put on when she felt she had
to smile in order to cover up some
irritation and the Dirty Look, saved for us only
(mostly for me, and sometime, Marion - although
not very often for Marion).
The Dirty Look kept us cowed when it was lowered at us
promising terrible consequences for Later.

Marion was sent to the nearby grocery store with The List:
One Grennens Butterscotch Cake - a rather small commercial cake,
very popular around the Detroit area
(it always came in handy when unexpected company dropped in).
Next on the list: The chocolate ice cream and the candy corn.

We played all the birthday games of the day;
and I again reminded my friends of the Depression;
No prizes, I announced, in the most gentle of sad tones.

Money was on everyone’s minds in those days
and even little children wanted to know
what was being spent on their behalf
so I did bring up the question of cost.

I think we all had a happy time celebrating
My 7th Birthday

I asked if I could go home with my friend
who lived in an upstairs flat across the street,
next to the public library.
My mother urged me to go.
Her smile was the cover for the Dirty Look.

I went.
We played.
I wondered when I should go home?
After all, it was my 7th birthday.
Would we be having a special dinner
I wondered.

It was getting dark.
I assured my birthday party friend
that I would be back another day
and I hurried home.

There was not a special dinner.
There was not even the special
birthday spanking.
But my father played
the Happy Birthday tune
on his harmonica .

Everyone talked about the party
in school the following day.
Sister Mary Angelena said she
wished she could have been there.

I never had another birthday party
(the Depression, you know)