As Dart begins the letter, it is already after 2:00 AM. Homer just left, having come by to see Dart’s little engine. They went to their model railroader’s club tonight, left early out of boredom, and tried to find a bowling alley. Failing that, they settled for burgers and shakes.

He just realized that four months from yesterday is the wedding, and four months from today, if they don’t get sidetracked or lost, they’ll be spending their first night alone together at the lake! How he  loves the sound of that!

One of the lumber yards ran an ad today featuring ready-to-assemble shelves and cabinets. The prices seemed reasonable and he’s encouraged to think they might be able to finish the third floor with little fuss. He’ll check out the stock tomorrow.

The radio just ran a story about folks along the east coast having to dig out of their homes. He guesses they’ve had even more snow than Cleveland.

He writes about his plans for the money he’ll earn between now and their wedding day, and he talks about opening “our” joint account. “Oh, I love that ‘our,’ and all because you’re the other half of it.”

He hates to repeat himself, but he loves her and misses her.

The next two days provide no letters, but Dart returns briefly on the 24th.