Torcello, 20 November1948
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Dearest Kittner,
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Been working hard and missing you harder. No mails today at all. I wrote you day before yesterday and forwarded a letter from your family to the Excelsior in Firenze today. Now writing you just at sun-set. Been beautiful fall weather ever since the day you left. I went shooting with Emilio and shot 25 small birds and we might have gotten two ducks as four flashed over us very low but were eating lunch when it happened. Might have missed them too.
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There is a big duck shoot either tomorrow (Sunday) a. m. or else Monday. Emilio is going to let me know tonight. Hope it's Monday as my shoulder is sore from those high, straight up and down shots. I think those are probably quite heavy loads of the light shot. Can really shoot that over and under now. Haven't started learning the double yet.
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Have my correspondence all done except for letter to Rice. Then will do the article. May do the article and then Rice since will have to go into Venice to get Power of Attorney notarized. Wrote Charley Ritz too.
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Your last pictures (the tower etc.) came out excellently. Got them last night.
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Believe magazines etc. held up by the dock strike. They say over 50 000 sacks of mail on the docks in NY. But you read the papers too so won't Kalten born the news to you.
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Hope your news was good.
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No more word from Childies.
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No local news. Mooky's foot got ok. Ate outdoors in the sun today and he kept his head in my lap all through lunch; clams, sole, white rice plain. Bobby the other dog, Crazy's brother, can sit up to beg and also make a how do you do and a Fancy Meeting You.
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I've been trying to stay awake and read until midnight or one a. m.
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Best to all your friends. Love to my kitten. Be good and have good fun. It's dark now and the shooting has started. Been trying to think what a Belgium smells like (the post-war travelling Belgiums) think it is a blend of traitorous King, toe jam, un-washed navels, old bicycle saddles, (sweated) paving stones, and eminently sound money with a touch of leek soup and cooking parsnips.
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There's nobody living here now. Today three couples for lunch though a character who was either a fairy or a cinema star or both with reconditioned woman (fenders straightened, bad paint job), a sort of Brusadelli type with woman to match and a brace of Belgiums. I can now tell the travelling Belgium as far as can smell them.
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Papa
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I love you dearest Kittner and miss you very, very very very, very, very much.
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