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homey stuff-2 A typical day at home. A rather lesiurely breakfast, with Eames in the play-pen in the dining-room. Then lunch together, either at home or one of the local eateries. Almost always just the two of us, unless there is one of the visitors mentioned above. In that case, we are joined by boys from the office involved in a certain job or interested in the visitor for cocktails and lunch here. Eero comes home sometime between 5 and 6 and we have cocktails while Eames putters around and after I put him to bed, usually talking about what went on that day or whatever job Eero is most involved in. Then supper at 7:30. Then to work-room, which you've seen. Here we may or may not put the victrola on, depending upon whether I am typing. [[strikethrough]] a few times[[/strikethrough]]Fairly common is a counterpoint of sounds: the gentle sound of Eero tearing a drawing off the tracing-paper roll and spreading out a new section and the violent sounds of me tearing 20 sheets of paper off a pad, crumbling them nd hurling into the waste-paper basket one after another---discarded lead paragraphs--and sputtering as I get more and more desperate. Halfway through the evening, we each maneuver to make the other get the scotch-and-sodas. Around 11:30 or so we quit and have another drink and talk in the living-room--sometimes terribly late, always later than we should. And so to bed... We are literally brutal, though very good, critics of eachother's work. Eero takes my adverse criticisms with brooding contemplation: I take his adverse ones with hysterical or despairing acceptance. Having been brought up with women who "worked," he is generous about my work and prods me into it when I get lazy or get more involved with taking care of the baby than my book. He is also touchingly over-proud of me and very helpful. ****** Our greatest incompatibility is rate of speech: I speak very quickly and Eero--well, you know about that. *****
