"The strong, honest, ugly, patient shapes of necessary things."

I went on a splendid date last week, during which we discovered a mutual affection for G. K. Chesterton: his boundless humor, his faith in the face of depression, his bemoaning the dearth of cheese poetry.*

So a couple days later I was stalking Chesterton online and came across information about his wife, Frances Blogg. They were a very devoted couple and doted on each other until his death. Among the Chesterton relics related to Frances is a letter he wrote to her during their engagement. It is long despite my heavy editing; if you don't have time to read it all, read just the last five paragraphs. It is funny and sweet: even as I laugh my heart melts into a pink puddle on the floor....





* Turns out Chesterton was wrong on this point, as my date then introduced me to the appallingly prolific James McIntyre, Cheese Poet of Canada. This cheese poem was my favorite. Read at your own risk.