SAGA Document Collection

[Letter, Emily Carr to Ruth Humphrey, 1944-12] Carr, Emily, 1871-1945 1944

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 Dec. 1944      Dear Ruth    So sorry to hear of your nosey woes. Its so beastly from all angles that flue. but I am releived the Colledge proposition looks improved.      My birthday came & went dumping me into my 73 year. Then I slept practically for 2 days with bumpy sleep at nights. Guess I was exhausted only had 3 visitors & Dr Baillie but the flowers oh scrumptious! a table full Thank you for your leaving the eazalias. I always love them & I think have only owned one before. I won't let Shanks touch them She'd put their heads in vases & tails up or something really the woman gets more 'cookey' every day Cooked the soup today (I saw it was decently seasoned) At end of meal she said Oh the soup's still on the stove. She  set the house on fire by piling wood exactly as I had told her not to against the outside of the hot red stove she mixed my medicine bottles & I took wrong doses & its not one scrap of good saying do or don't she does the opposite & when & says "Oaaw! I thought" & I say for heavens sake *don't* think whenever you do something *wrong* happens   I hope you & Gillian can go to Vancouver for Xmas. Ive been so wretched I've only written one Xmas letter the day before my cold came on. I shrivel with shame when I hear what others are going through. Have turned away from writing for the last month (clogging of brain) hope I shall clear soon. have things to finish.   Alice  & I will Xmas with quiet non-hiliarity it does not grieve me like it does her poor dear She *is* *so* conservative "One *did* always *must*, cradle to grave." is her belief. Her whole soul is wrapped up in King Queen, the princesses, & the Churchill Family. Very well in their places, but tiresome if treakled over one in sentimental sauce. Thats like Shanks wanting to pour something over everthing, gravey, sauce fruit juice or mutton tallow. I simply *won't* be gravied. I can't give her a more devine delight than to scrub my false teeth Its only when I feel frightfully bad I allow it, otherwise when I see her black edged bulge knuckle fingers the cat is welcome to my food but if she wasn't praying to scrub my teeth she'd be imploring to rub my leg at least she can take the teeth over to the wash basin but the leg still clings to you - *my* we have such *queer* tastes.   Well, here's a parting kick for your flue I hope Came[?] performs effectively.    Hoping our diseases will not part our friendship for long. Shure we'll have a "recuperation spree". I fear my legs dictate the 'Studio' for the field of action.   Cherio & love, Emily. Dec. 1944 (No Envelope)   has had her 73rd birthday   (written from her home,    218 St. Andrew's St.


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