Aug. 14, '17.

My dear Lulu

I have received since I wrote my last letter three delightful letters from you. I am glad that they were "just Lulu". But indeed you do no wrong to your own style; I find them great reading, even apart from the fact that they are from 'my Lulu'. If the at of letter writing is to depict faithfully the daily life of the writer & make it live in the mind of the recipient, then yours may be said to be perfect specimens. My matter of fact statements, generally scrappy & brief, & always left handed, would satisfy none of these canons, I am afraid, for I have neither the patience, nor the skill, to make a real picture of my life here.

I have just come out of the Medical Officer's Office; from another examination. I saw that he wrote on my 'history' sheet, "No improvement", then he said that he didn't think my arm would get better, & that I must watch the board notices for my name for the Medical Board. Now for my inferences: I shall probably be before the Medical Board this week for an examination (my second time here) by the senior doctors, to decide whether to give me further treatments here, or to send me to Canada. In the latter case I shall go up before a Canada Board for still further examination. If both decide to send me back, I shall be detained for an indefinate period, until they choose to send me back. But of course, either one may decide otherwise.

If I should be sent to Canada it may mean that I shall be sent as an invalid, & should have to go where I am sent. If I should be discharged I may be granted it here or in Canada. But all the patients here say that it takes a much longer time to get a discharge here than to go to Canada, often taking many months, while leave in Canada is easily obtained. So I fancy I could get to Digby quicker by going to Canada, even if I was forced to go right West. But of course the whole thing is but a castle in the air as yet. It is good of you to say you would come to Halifax, my dear Lulu; I will try to let you know everything. Digby Convalescent Home is my "objective", anyway, & I shall take the shortest trip I know. I shall want my nurse to give me "massage & manipulations" remember. But dont build to much on my coming, for one of the patients - to whom I told what the doctor said - says it merely means "further treatment"

You asked me to send you a photo as soon as I could. I have just sent you a picture which I found here, & which is just like me, even to the cut & color of the clothes & tie. How do you like it?

I had a trip, by bus, to Canterbury on Saturday & had about ¾ of an hour in the town. It was a most delightful trip, & found the town the most old-fashioned place I have ever seen. Some of the streets were so narrow that the people on opposite sides of the street could easily shake hands from their bedroom windows. I had just a few minutes in the cathedral. I would like to spend a week there, if only to study the architecture. I stood on the spot where Thomas a Beckett fell. The nave wall hung with Canadian banners.

I suppose your grand Berwick trip will be all over by now. Wouldn't it be fine if I could have been with you. I hope you had a very happy time there; tell me all about it.

You asked in one of your letters if I could hold anything in my hand. I cannot close my hand at all; I an just hold things between my thumb & finger; not much, is it? I dont often use a sling now, & of course I cannot use it for writing. This is a specimen of the way it writes even for a few minutes. But that is better than I expected; I haven't tried it for some time, so it must have improved. I shall try to use it more now, so as to get it more used to being used, unless I find you cannot read it.

I am enclosing a few cards I got at Westminster. They are the best I could get. These special sepia colored ones I sent seem to be sold only at one place in London & one in St. Allans. These Japanese ones I send just because they are new & "cute".

I am afraid you are wrong in your description of my father. He is straight except for a slight stoop, but is a little shorter than I. My little niece was the eldest girl of my sister's family of four girls & one baby boy. Her name is Edna Keale. She had a fine time, especially when I took her on her visit to the public school. It does not seem to me at all inquisitive for I would like you to know all my relatives as I hope to know yours.

That is a fine idea of yours in paying visits to the children's gardens. I dont think you could do anything much better to encourage them to push home production. If I was in Canada now I should dearly like to do the same work. We could go together, & what a time we should have!

Talking about fancy work reminds me of some work that I saw in a private exhibition in a shop. The shopkeeper seeing that I was interested in curios, etc., asked me to wait, &showed me what seemed to me some very fine hand embroidery or whatever it may be called (I am no expert about such things you know). I asked if she had a piece that would do for a piano, & she said "No", but that she would get one made for me, & whispered that many of the ladies from the town had been hard hit by the repeated air-raids here, & that the one who did the piece I admired was "the wife of a clergyman." If I stay here for two weeks more I shall be here when it is finished & I will send it to you.

It must have been a funny experience for Ainley to get a telegram from home announcing that he was a father, right in the front lines. I cannot imagine what the mixed joy & seriousness would be like.

I do not get any Canadian papers at all, Lulu. If you sent me the "Guardian" I did not get it. I should like to see any Sask news, or any you think I am interested in but I am afraid that papers may be lost in wandering around after me. Parcels too are liable to be lost as I have to be re-addressed so often. There is some talk that this hospital may be moved to Torquay, to avoid the air raids; than may mean a further change.
Well, I must stop writing for now, for I suppose you can hardly read it anyhow. You must excuse my practising on you, but I know you will understand.

With best love, yours as ever
Tom.