Love Letter 35 – Love-Mood

Love Letter 35 – Love-Mood

I hesitate tearing myself from the salacious shores of Burrard Inlet and decide instead to lounge longer against a mammoth sun bleached drift log, reaping in the late afternoon UV rays, the crooning seagulls overhead and the whooshing waves lapping the pebbled shore. My head lightens, my shoulders relax and my butt and feet sink slowly into the crushed seashells.
My whirling sensation withstands the gridlock, interrupting my journey home on the Lion’s Gate Bridge, and allows me one final bird’s-eye view of the place I’d just left behind.
Once through the front door of #1969 I’m floating further into blissfulness with the sensuous soul sounds of Barry White and the unwavering devotion within the continuing pages of Mom’s Love Letter 35:

Page 2
11 pm Monday
Finished work at 6 pm and home for supper – don’t know where the evening went to.
Sat down w/ writing material in hand and at 11 pm 4 hours later I finish your letter.
People dropped over for a short visit – home. Can hardly wait to spend a quiet evening in our home (apt.) – doesn’t that sound great.
Only 3 months & 10 days until I’ll be Mrs. B.K. Johnston (12 more Saturdays being single – Wowee).
I can just see you when you read my letters – the way I rant & rave – it’s cuz I love you so honey.
Last nite when I went to bed & put on a real love-mood record – you’ll have to hear it w/ me.
A man reciting poetry w/ an organ playing softly in the background – you know “How Do I Love Thee.”
I also know what your remarks to that would be – to the bedroom!!
Haven’t had any chance to practice kissing someone while I wash dishes tho’ dear – talented aren’t I.
Start dentist appointments next week. And – a doctor appointment the 15th of next month – see what makes me tick.
Any further ideas re: your coming to visit me at Christmas & I could drive back w/ you?
Thesis? (only time I mentioned it honey).
Will close now. Miss you darling.
I love you w/ all my heart –
Yours always,
Bette
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Chopp-Chopp

Oh man, Mom those love mood records at bedtime will do it to you every time: penetrating, poetic words evoking an irresistible rush of blood coursing through your veins, a swarm of butterflies fluttering around your tummy and the thundering beats of your racing heart – Wowie!

Darling, I can’t get enough of your love, babe