This is the continuing web saga of Amanda, a young wife and mother in 1947 Saskatchewan. In a series of letters written home to her mother, she's sure to cook her way into the hearts and minds of readers everywhere.
June 6, 1947
I have to tell you, I'm simply beside myself since the last time I wrote. Those little pills Paul has prescribed for my apparent melancholia are not having the desired effect and I find myself out of sorts and tired all the time. Paul isn't available to consult with as he has been working with a pharmaceutical company in Toronto that he claims may be our ticket to the "big time" and is away on yet another trip.
Mother, could you hear me sigh all the way from Nova Scotia? I never wanted the big time, I only ever wanted a sweet little home, children, and a husband who loved me - and while, on paper it looks like I have all that, in truth, my life feels empty and I feel somewhat duped with this pill business.
When you take them, everything is better for a time, but when they wear off and all goes back to normal, normal seems far worse which makes you want to take more. Now, I may not be a doctor, but I believe my melancholia has much more to do with my absentee husband than a need for medication, so I stopped taking the pills altogether on Tuesday. Thankfully, I'm beginning to feel a little more myself and should be right as rain very soon.
Interestingly, the green bean debacle as I now think of it, has created an unlikely, if not somewhat tenuous, ally in Mrs. Wilson and she has been questioning me any chance she gets about Paul's "relationship" with Nurse Val.
Despite her veneer of kindness, however, there is the slightest hint of insinuation in her tone that has left me unsettled, Yesterday, she cornered me in front of the lamb chops at Schultz's butcher shop and asked if Paul was away on another business trip to which I replied yes.
"Ahhh," she said, and then looking me straight in the eye asked, "Do you ever wonder what he and Nurse Val do when they're not working?"
Up until then I hadn't but now my mind is going in all kinds of directions and I don't know what to do. To make matters worse, Paul doesn't arrive home until Saturday and so I have two more days to stew and worry about it until he comes home.
Mother, you don't think Paul could be up to any kind of monkey business do you? He is so conservative and upstanding that I just can't imagine it - so I will put my mind to rest for now by telling myself that was just Mrs. Wilson trying to stir things up.
In the meantime, I tried the most delectable recipe the other day for chicken pot pie that I simply had to share with you! (printable recipe HERE)
The creamy filling can be made ahead of time and then poured into a pie shell...
Better still, the recipe makes two so you can bake one and put the other into your deep freeze!
I know how much father loves a good meat pie, and this one promises to be a hit!
Until next time mother, have a wonderful week,
Your loving daughter, Amanda
To read the next installment in my popular Cherry Hill blog series visit here: Paul Doesn't Come Home
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