October 1, 1936

Quite vigorous, this "hike", today; if I weren't so perfectly bred, I would have sweat like a coal stoker. And now I'm beaten all of a heap. But the weather was gentle; I shan't need to have my hair re-set after all. Really, a lovely, dappled day. Mais, mon Dieu, les limaces! I’m certain that slugs are quite useful in the correct setting. Nature has its place, after all. And I can’t think of anything more quiet; they’ll never keep you up at night making parties, now will they? Haha! But couldn’t they come in another color?

Periwinkle? Celadon?

I’m leaving for the beach tomorrow. I’ve been told it will be restful. But I’ve also been told that I mustn’t expect Juan les Pins or the Lido. I suppose it’s a bit more rustic; the things I’ve endured here in the wilds of Oregon! A house has been rented, which I hope will be cozy. And clean. Before I came over, I had Patou run me up the most darling little matelot costume. Or should I say, “matelotte”, in my case? Hmmm? It has one of those great flopping sailor collars and even a little white hat with a pom-pom. It’s too marvelous. So even if the crashing waves are a crashing bore – haha! – I’ll be the best dressed little sailor down at the seashore.

À bientôt, my darlings!