This is the inside of the card.
268
Thursday, August 27, 2009
The sweetest greeting card
This was sent by Florence Delano to Clarence Brown in 1947. She was 30 at the time. Can you imagine a world where goodness like this ruled the day? (You may have to set aside frustration with gender-typing for a moment.) Isn't this just the sweetest thing in the universe? It makes me so happy to see this happy love.
This is the inside of the card.
268
This is the inside of the card.
268
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
From Florence (1947)
May 1947 ... an excerpt from page 5 of a wonderful letter from Florence after one of her first visits to the farm
....................................
referring again to your letter: and the parts of the activity, etc., i remember. jessie says i should have tried to drive the tractor, and and guess i should apologize for my stubbornness, if that's what it was. there is much i want to learn about farming, and it probably wouldn't hurt me to be able to do that ... i hope you were not disgusted with me because i refused so flatly. perhaps i should have feigned interest, though the truth would come out later and that would be more difficult ... frankness is one of my questionable qualities. i should watch myself in using it, i suppose ...
your instructions to "open with care" are unnecessary, for i open all your letters with care. you enclose so many interesting things i fully expect some day to find a live toad in one of the envelopes - but don't let me put ideas into your head.
the Comstock publishing company sen me literature about "Land for the Family" and a farm management manual, the latter for a dollar. do i want one? now that you have told me that you can provide pamphlets on subjects such as farm ponds, i don't leap before i ask. can you please tell me WHY the man has a bottle of mile in the middle of the vegetables? poetic license, i presume ...
enuf! you have work to do and i am keeping you from it.
240
....................................
referring again to your letter: and the parts of the activity, etc., i remember. jessie says i should have tried to drive the tractor, and and guess i should apologize for my stubbornness, if that's what it was. there is much i want to learn about farming, and it probably wouldn't hurt me to be able to do that ... i hope you were not disgusted with me because i refused so flatly. perhaps i should have feigned interest, though the truth would come out later and that would be more difficult ... frankness is one of my questionable qualities. i should watch myself in using it, i suppose ...
your instructions to "open with care" are unnecessary, for i open all your letters with care. you enclose so many interesting things i fully expect some day to find a live toad in one of the envelopes - but don't let me put ideas into your head.
the Comstock publishing company sen me literature about "Land for the Family" and a farm management manual, the latter for a dollar. do i want one? now that you have told me that you can provide pamphlets on subjects such as farm ponds, i don't leap before i ask. can you please tell me WHY the man has a bottle of mile in the middle of the vegetables? poetic license, i presume ...
enuf! you have work to do and i am keeping you from it.
240
Monday, August 24, 2009
Friday, August 21, 2009
Dear Clarence (1946)
More correspondence between Jane's parents during their court-and-spark days. They met through a personal ad her mother placed in the Saturday Review of Literature. This is her mother's letter following her father's initial reply. More here.
______________________________
August 11, 1946
Dear Clarence,
Had you despaired of ever hearing from Box 419-Q, SRL. I am sorry if my delay in answering your letter made you think it was inadequate. It certainly was not, and since the day it arrived I have been trying to make time to answer it. Since you say you have little time except for "necessary" correspondence, I know you will excuse me for my delay. True, I asked for correspondents, and I do love to write letters. Actually, I can blame only my work, which keeps my busy all day, every day. I had thought the summer would be a little less busy, but it has been otherwise.
I dug into the World Almanac to find out what your dust-gathering key meant, and I am duly impressed. There are Phi Beta Kappa keys floating around in my family, but I am not the owner. I had two years in college (St. Laurence U., Canton, N.Y.) and found out that I was not a genius. I am more convinced of it now that I have spent ten years in the newspaper world where really intelligent persons abound. I came home from college to work with my father and sister in publishing The Amityville Record, which my father took over in 1904. I was born here in Amityville, and with the exception of my sojourn at college, I have lived here always. I know almost everyone, the same number of persons know me, and I do enjoy it. But you were quite correct in surmising that I long for new friends who can write and talk on a plane higher than the unusual trend here. I like people and I am interested in their joys and sorrows, but they are happy in their rut, and I get impatient with them.
For that reason it pleased me no end to read your description of yourself. To be fair, I must retaliate with one of myself. I am 30, as of a few weeks ago, 5 ft. 0 tall, black more or less curly hair (depending on how much dampness comes in off the Great South Bay), brown eyes (always wished they were blue), passable proportions and the proper number of appendages. I smile more often than not because it makes me feel good and doesn't seem to have ill effect on anyone else. I seldom laugh loud, but I appreciate clever humor and take part in family bouts of punning which I think help an active mind to stay active. (My college classmates groaned loud and long at my puns, but I always told them they were jealous of my nimble brain!) I am unmarried and quite happy about it because I would rather be that way than doing dishes for any one of the few who have proposed. If The Man comes along some day I will be glad to forsake my daily chores for housework.
Until that time, however, I will do as I do now: Up at 6:30, to work (two doors away) at 7. Report the news from its source or by telephoning the proper authorities; write it, read proof on it, put it in the forms, supervise the lockup, stamp the address labels on the papers, and make out the subscription bills. I'll continue to do the bookkeeping, make up ads, collect social items, attend village and school board meetings, be on hand at all public functions from band concerts to firemen's tournaments. I'll travel around the village on my bicycle, wave to friends and folks I think I must wave to, and spread goodwill where I can. I'll continue to attend Junior League meetings and try to rouse the housewives and working girls enough to show them the importance of being interested in local government, improvements, etc.
(Page two of this wonderful letter will be posted tomorrow)
87
______________________________
August 11, 1946
Dear Clarence,
Had you despaired of ever hearing from Box 419-Q, SRL. I am sorry if my delay in answering your letter made you think it was inadequate. It certainly was not, and since the day it arrived I have been trying to make time to answer it. Since you say you have little time except for "necessary" correspondence, I know you will excuse me for my delay. True, I asked for correspondents, and I do love to write letters. Actually, I can blame only my work, which keeps my busy all day, every day. I had thought the summer would be a little less busy, but it has been otherwise.
I dug into the World Almanac to find out what your dust-gathering key meant, and I am duly impressed. There are Phi Beta Kappa keys floating around in my family, but I am not the owner. I had two years in college (St. Laurence U., Canton, N.Y.) and found out that I was not a genius. I am more convinced of it now that I have spent ten years in the newspaper world where really intelligent persons abound. I came home from college to work with my father and sister in publishing The Amityville Record, which my father took over in 1904. I was born here in Amityville, and with the exception of my sojourn at college, I have lived here always. I know almost everyone, the same number of persons know me, and I do enjoy it. But you were quite correct in surmising that I long for new friends who can write and talk on a plane higher than the unusual trend here. I like people and I am interested in their joys and sorrows, but they are happy in their rut, and I get impatient with them.
For that reason it pleased me no end to read your description of yourself. To be fair, I must retaliate with one of myself. I am 30, as of a few weeks ago, 5 ft. 0 tall, black more or less curly hair (depending on how much dampness comes in off the Great South Bay), brown eyes (always wished they were blue), passable proportions and the proper number of appendages. I smile more often than not because it makes me feel good and doesn't seem to have ill effect on anyone else. I seldom laugh loud, but I appreciate clever humor and take part in family bouts of punning which I think help an active mind to stay active. (My college classmates groaned loud and long at my puns, but I always told them they were jealous of my nimble brain!) I am unmarried and quite happy about it because I would rather be that way than doing dishes for any one of the few who have proposed. If The Man comes along some day I will be glad to forsake my daily chores for housework.
Until that time, however, I will do as I do now: Up at 6:30, to work (two doors away) at 7. Report the news from its source or by telephoning the proper authorities; write it, read proof on it, put it in the forms, supervise the lockup, stamp the address labels on the papers, and make out the subscription bills. I'll continue to do the bookkeeping, make up ads, collect social items, attend village and school board meetings, be on hand at all public functions from band concerts to firemen's tournaments. I'll travel around the village on my bicycle, wave to friends and folks I think I must wave to, and spread goodwill where I can. I'll continue to attend Junior League meetings and try to rouse the housewives and working girls enough to show them the importance of being interested in local government, improvements, etc.
(Page two of this wonderful letter will be posted tomorrow)
87
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Dear Country Newspaper Gal (1946)
How Jane's father responded to a personal ad placed in the Saturday Review of Literature.
___________________________________
Dear Country Newspaper Gal.
Your recent ad in SRL [Saturday Review Literature] is the first that has intrigued me for many months. I seem to have a hundred questions I would like to ask, but since you state that you like to write to intelligent males, it seems unnecessary to ask questions for certainly you must reveal considerable about yourself simply by enjoying writing. I sense that if you care to reply, it will be a reply of length rather than cautious, indicative-of-naught responses that one is accustomed to receiving.
As to my intelligence: More than anything else, I would prefer having more, however I see a Phi Kappa Phi key gathering dust on a nearby catch-all try, which is probably indicative of a little edge over the average. If you require an IQ rating, I shall be glad to exchange.
Frankly, I lack the time to indulge in much more correspondence than is necessary to keep in touch with widely scattered friends but find it necessary to do some in order to acquire new friends (an important part of life at all ages) with that intangible element of spirit that I cherish but seldom find among the good but inarticulate folk with whom I rub elbows.
It strikes me that the latter part of the last paragraph may be applicable to you as well?
One of the most fascinating parts of answering SRL ads is guessing where the addressee lives and later learning. I am putting you in new England with a lean toward Massachusetts.
No doubt you will better be able to decide whether or not to reply if you have a few vital statistics. They follow quite at random. I am 29, white, unmarried, 5' 11" tall, weigh 165, dark blond hair, blue eyes and a passable appearance. I am not perverted as you may know or certainly will learn that many SRL habitues are. I have no religious affiliation, am self employed, live in a pleasant, fertile rural community only an hour or two away from most large Eastern cities. My likes include active, sincere people who think for themselves and know why they do what they do, most lower animals and nature in general, scientific progress, good art and literature within my ken, beauty, understanding and tolerance. My aversions are time-wasting games, stupid people, intemperance in all things, excessive philosophizing, non-voters in a democracy, most of urban living, and drudgery, although I must admit that I have at time indulged in all.
May I hear from you?
Most sincerely,
/s/
___________________________________
Dear Country Newspaper Gal.
Your recent ad in SRL [Saturday Review Literature] is the first that has intrigued me for many months. I seem to have a hundred questions I would like to ask, but since you state that you like to write to intelligent males, it seems unnecessary to ask questions for certainly you must reveal considerable about yourself simply by enjoying writing. I sense that if you care to reply, it will be a reply of length rather than cautious, indicative-of-naught responses that one is accustomed to receiving.
As to my intelligence: More than anything else, I would prefer having more, however I see a Phi Kappa Phi key gathering dust on a nearby catch-all try, which is probably indicative of a little edge over the average. If you require an IQ rating, I shall be glad to exchange.
Frankly, I lack the time to indulge in much more correspondence than is necessary to keep in touch with widely scattered friends but find it necessary to do some in order to acquire new friends (an important part of life at all ages) with that intangible element of spirit that I cherish but seldom find among the good but inarticulate folk with whom I rub elbows.
It strikes me that the latter part of the last paragraph may be applicable to you as well?
One of the most fascinating parts of answering SRL ads is guessing where the addressee lives and later learning. I am putting you in new England with a lean toward Massachusetts.
No doubt you will better be able to decide whether or not to reply if you have a few vital statistics. They follow quite at random. I am 29, white, unmarried, 5' 11" tall, weigh 165, dark blond hair, blue eyes and a passable appearance. I am not perverted as you may know or certainly will learn that many SRL habitues are. I have no religious affiliation, am self employed, live in a pleasant, fertile rural community only an hour or two away from most large Eastern cities. My likes include active, sincere people who think for themselves and know why they do what they do, most lower animals and nature in general, scientific progress, good art and literature within my ken, beauty, understanding and tolerance. My aversions are time-wasting games, stupid people, intemperance in all things, excessive philosophizing, non-voters in a democracy, most of urban living, and drudgery, although I must admit that I have at time indulged in all.
May I hear from you?
Most sincerely,
/s/
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Eggshell paintings (1950)
This is the first of many installments, in which I am posting letters, newspaper columns and other items written by Florence Delano Brown, my wife's mother, who died many years ago.
___________________________________________
Mr. Theodore M. O'Leary, editor
Profitable Hobbies
24th and Burlington
Kansas City, Mo.
Dear Sir:
Enclosed is an article written for your consideration. I hope you may find it suited to your needs. If you find the material interesting but my style unsatisfactory, I will be glad to alter it to suit you.
I will look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
/s/
Florence D. Brown
encl.
___________________________________________
A continuous supply of egg shells, a steady hand, and patience are the requirement for success in the fashioning of flow pictures for framing, the hobby of W.K. Stussy, of Copiague, Long Island, New York.
Mr. Stussy, who makes no claim to being an artist, has sold, for ten dollars and more, pictures of pansies, daisies, rosebuds, dogwoods, cosmos and poppies, modeled after pictures in seed catalogs.
His procedure is this: first he removes the membrane from the inside of the egg shell. This is done by moistening it and rolling it off with the fingers. Then, after examining the shell by holding it up to the light to be sure it is not cracked, he holds the shell between the thumb and forefinger of one hand, and with an ordinary pair of eyebrow tweezers, he nips tiny pieces from the edges of the shell until he has the shape desired.
When he has the required number of petals for the flower he has selected to make, he fastens them to a piece of cardboard with moisture-proof rubber cement. He places the rounded part of the shell up or down, depending on the shape of the flower. If it is a pansy, he places it down; a rosebud, up, and so on.
For the stems, Mr. Stussy uses green packing cord. He makes vases from egg shells which he has ground with a spoon in a cup and strained through a coffee strainer. The straining is done so that the particles will be of uniform size. Before placing the ground shell on the cardboard, he outlines the shape of the vase and puts colorless nail polish, which also is moisture proof, in the space, a small amount at a time because it dries quickly. The ground shell must be applied while the polish is wet in order for it to stay in place.
When the flow is complete, Mr. Stussy tints it with water colors, taking care to apply very little pressure with a camel's hair brush. He learned from experience that too much pressure will snap the petals. He uses an orangewood stick notched at one end to mark veins on the leaves.
The complete picture is then placed in a wooden shadow frame, which Mr. Stussy makes himself, of a size suitable for the flowers represented.
The time consumed in thus fashioning three pansies and two rosebuds with thorns and leaves, and a vase and shadow frame, is about about ten to twelve hours. Th quantity of shells used may vary with the artist. Mr Stussy used 42 shells in fashioning one petal before it suited him.
When Mr. Stussy started his hobby a few years ago, he used the shells of any eggs, but after considerable experimenting, he found that the removal of the membrane inside the shell was simpler when the egg had been hard boiled. His supply of such shells comes from his neighbors and friends who are glad to find a use for them, and from a nearby restaurant where baskets full are saved each week for him.
Mr. Stussy came upon his idea when he saw an oil painting which included some actual pussywillow branches, a part of some flowers which were flat, and some few egg shells used to give a relief effect. He warns the beginner that only flowers with one curve can be made. Flowers with two curves are not adaptable because although shells break readily, they will not bend.
Mr. Stussy puts his creations under glass in their shadow frames, because otherwise, he says, he would be repeatedly called upon to repair flowers damaged by the fingers of admirers who find them so lifelike that they want to touch.
###
___________________________________________
Mr. Theodore M. O'Leary, editor
Profitable Hobbies
24th and Burlington
Kansas City, Mo.
Dear Sir:
Enclosed is an article written for your consideration. I hope you may find it suited to your needs. If you find the material interesting but my style unsatisfactory, I will be glad to alter it to suit you.
I will look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
/s/
Florence D. Brown
encl.
___________________________________________
A continuous supply of egg shells, a steady hand, and patience are the requirement for success in the fashioning of flow pictures for framing, the hobby of W.K. Stussy, of Copiague, Long Island, New York.
Mr. Stussy, who makes no claim to being an artist, has sold, for ten dollars and more, pictures of pansies, daisies, rosebuds, dogwoods, cosmos and poppies, modeled after pictures in seed catalogs.
His procedure is this: first he removes the membrane from the inside of the egg shell. This is done by moistening it and rolling it off with the fingers. Then, after examining the shell by holding it up to the light to be sure it is not cracked, he holds the shell between the thumb and forefinger of one hand, and with an ordinary pair of eyebrow tweezers, he nips tiny pieces from the edges of the shell until he has the shape desired.
When he has the required number of petals for the flower he has selected to make, he fastens them to a piece of cardboard with moisture-proof rubber cement. He places the rounded part of the shell up or down, depending on the shape of the flower. If it is a pansy, he places it down; a rosebud, up, and so on.
For the stems, Mr. Stussy uses green packing cord. He makes vases from egg shells which he has ground with a spoon in a cup and strained through a coffee strainer. The straining is done so that the particles will be of uniform size. Before placing the ground shell on the cardboard, he outlines the shape of the vase and puts colorless nail polish, which also is moisture proof, in the space, a small amount at a time because it dries quickly. The ground shell must be applied while the polish is wet in order for it to stay in place.
When the flow is complete, Mr. Stussy tints it with water colors, taking care to apply very little pressure with a camel's hair brush. He learned from experience that too much pressure will snap the petals. He uses an orangewood stick notched at one end to mark veins on the leaves.
The complete picture is then placed in a wooden shadow frame, which Mr. Stussy makes himself, of a size suitable for the flowers represented.
The time consumed in thus fashioning three pansies and two rosebuds with thorns and leaves, and a vase and shadow frame, is about about ten to twelve hours. Th quantity of shells used may vary with the artist. Mr Stussy used 42 shells in fashioning one petal before it suited him.
When Mr. Stussy started his hobby a few years ago, he used the shells of any eggs, but after considerable experimenting, he found that the removal of the membrane inside the shell was simpler when the egg had been hard boiled. His supply of such shells comes from his neighbors and friends who are glad to find a use for them, and from a nearby restaurant where baskets full are saved each week for him.
Mr. Stussy came upon his idea when he saw an oil painting which included some actual pussywillow branches, a part of some flowers which were flat, and some few egg shells used to give a relief effect. He warns the beginner that only flowers with one curve can be made. Flowers with two curves are not adaptable because although shells break readily, they will not bend.
Mr. Stussy puts his creations under glass in their shadow frames, because otherwise, he says, he would be repeatedly called upon to repair flowers damaged by the fingers of admirers who find them so lifelike that they want to touch.
###
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