My dearest Nora, wherever thou mayst roam,
Forgive me for the erm, rather sensitive subject matter with which this letter deals, but this is too good to go without documentation.
The dryer in my apartment has not worked since Thursday, and because we are still without, much dirty laundry has accumulated. Today, I wore my last pair of pants and drawers. Uh oh. I'd been banking on a new, or newly repaired, dryer to greet me upon my return home today, but alas, it was not to be.
Not wanting to wear recycled drawers, and without sufficient funds to even buy a loaf of bread in 1932, I was left with no other choice.
Yes, my dear, I cleansed my unmentionables in my bathtub with shampoo. With the help of a hairdryer, I got them to the slightly-soggy point. I've affixed them to a hanger, which I've attached to my ceiling fan that is currently on its highest setting, and now it's up to the man upstairs to see that they're fit for wear come morning.
May the grace of He keep you always,