Dart’s mail delivery has finally caught up with him, bringing Dot’s postcard, greeting card, and letter, plus two letters from his mother and two more from friends. He’s thrilled with her news of landing a great job with good hours.

He asked her to check her records to see if she was at the World’s Fair the same day he was on July 18, 1939. What fun to think their stars might have aligned way back then so they might meet!

Dart echos Dot’s thought that he nearly did not accept that blind date to Andrews. “It scares me when I think of how much I almost didn’t meet you,” he writes. He goes on to say that Lois, his date for that fateful evening, gets his nomination for the person he’d most like to be on the opposite side of the world from. Dot, in contrast gets his nomination for the person he’d most like to spend the rest of his life with. (Whoa there, Dart! You don’t wanna spook the little lady.)

He launches into a mild scolding and compelling argument about getting her phone number in Greenwich.  As seldom as he calls, it won’t cost that much money, he says. After all, she spends money on postage stamps whereas he gets to send mail for free. Also, it gives him great pleasure. Not having her phone number will not stop him if he decides to call, but it sure would make life easier if he had it.  I suspect she’ll cave and send the number in her next letter.

He sends get well wishes to El, and says his mother has strep throat but is responding well to sulfa treatments. Do they still use sulpha to treat strep, I wonder? As an aside, I saw a story on TV last week about the millions of children in Africa who die of heart disease  brought when an untreated strep infection settles in the heart. It made me think once again about the wonders of modern medicine (when and where it’s available) and how antibiotics must have contributed to increased longevity in the developed world.

He’s happy she’ll be earning extra money with child care jobs and remarks that she must be good at it to be in such high demand.

He cautions her not to take his misfortunes too hard. His burden has been made much easier, he says, with Dot and his parents doing some of his grieving for him.

Dart’s friend Fred Dixon wrote of his sister Dorothy’s enlistment in the Waves. Now the Dixon home can place two stars in their front window. How nice that women’s service was acknowledged the same way as men’s.

Dot begins her letter with an acknowledgement that indeed, the Duke and Duchess will be coming to Greenwich. “We’re considering allowing them to stay as guests at our estate this summer. Of course, it will put us out a liitle, but then, they’ve often done favors for us.” She continues in the same vein to tell him that Alec Templeton, Dot’s favorite pianist, lives in town and is a very good customer of Dot’s father.

In response to his question about riding, Dot says she loves horses, but it’s been ages since she’s enjoyed the sport. It costs $2.00 per hour in this place where most people have millions, but she doesn’t. Because she has discovered the need to eat, she’s been forced to choose between riding and dining. She adds that in New Hampshire where her family has a bungalow, she used to ride bare back every day, for free.

She comments that she seems to spend most of her time answering his letter, which was an answer to her letter in the first place. She finds it hard to come up with any news because her life is so simple and settled. That begs the question of how he can consistently come up with such interesting letters when he’s stuck in a hospital for weeks on end. She adds that she’s not even very good at writing all the ‘purdy’ thoughts like he does. She admits she feels those things but is not adept at writing them. She promises, however, that someday she will write a letter that will knock his eyes out. All it’ll take is a full moon, millions of stars, and soft, dreamy music. These ingredients are like TNT o her!

But for now, she adds, back to her dull life. A life with “no gloss but always a finish.” With that, she finishes the letter.

Dart was in a rare mood today. He began with high praise for Dot’s recent letter and some teasing words about her constant apologies for the quality of her stationery.  He also teased a bit about the luxurious setting of her cushy job – complete with carpet and upholstered chairs! I suspect he doesn’t see much of either in his current setting. More on that later.

He suggests that the hoping and dreaming each of them has done in recent months seems to be working to some extent, so they should both keep it up with renewed fervor and they will surely see even more success.

Commenting about the dream Dot described where Dart showed up in Greenwich and they enjoyed a long bike ride and a picnic, he confirmed that he has had similar dreams. He launched into a detailed imagery about the day. He began by asking what he was wearing in her dream. Was he in uniform or will they have to wait until the war is over to fulfill the dream? He imagined what the picnic menu might be, and he envisioned sitting on the shore and watching the moon rise. There was enough breeze to ruffle her hair and put a little sand in the “sand” wiches.

Coming back to the present, he told her how much he enjoyed the oatmeal cookies she sent. The gum was quite welcome and he even put it to therapeutic use when he felt the first twinge of mumps on the left jaw. By “jawing” the gum all day, the swelling and stiffness on the left is not as bad as the right side got.

He included another of his fantastic yarns in the spirit of his “devilish satire” of a few weeks ago. This was a meticulous description of the “prehistoric” ward where he now resides, compete with stalactites, a lost race of men and blind fish. He writes satire and sarcasm with a lively comical bent. Well worth the read, in my opinion.

Here’s a brief note from Dot, dashed off as she was about to crawl into bed for the night.

She told Dart how much she enjoyed reading about his bygone days. “But then, you make everything enjoyable. Golly, how I wish you were around when I do dishes!” (Let’s not get too serious or mushy, Dot.)

She loves her job but is happy that Sunday is coming so she can give her feet a rest. Because Greenwich is looking her best, all dressed in springtime finery, she suggests he make his reservations now to come for a visit sometime next week. Wouldn’t that be lovely!

She’s true her opening words that this would be a short letter.

Dart’s letter has flair, even though most of it is simply in response to Dot’s latest. He thanks her for the outline of her feet and promises to try to finish a pair of slippers for her. He’d send her an outline of his foot for comparison, but his will not fit on a page of paper.

He supports her choice not to share his letters with her mother. Although they’ve not written anything to be ashamed of, it’s a “matter of general principles.” Oh, how I remember that favorite phrase of his. As children, whenever my siblings or I would ask a question he either didn’t know how to answer or was unwilling to answer, he would respond, “Well, that’s a matter of general principles.” For example: Daddy, why does Nancy get to stay up later than me?” Or, “Why are you mad at your boss?” Another favorite response in similar circumstances went like this: Daddy, why is the sky blue? To which he would answer, “To make little girls ask questions.” As part of my introduction to a vocabulary beyond my years, I learned at an early age what “general principles” meant.

He reports that he’s feeling better than he did when the mumps started. He’s still being nourished and hydrated with 1000 c.c of fluid in his arm, which he explains does nothing to stave hunger pangs or thirst.

In response to Dot’s concern that he would neglect his model-building in order to make her slippers, he assured her that there was nothing that can deter his interest in trains, so she needn’t fear. Let’s say his interest in railroads never waned throughout his life, and leave it at that for now.

He wrote a bit about his buddy John Angel – a close friend from Shaw high school. “Angel” had just presented his sweetheart Sally with an engagement ring before being shipped out from Fresno to parts unknown. “Another of my buddies to impress on us all the fact that we are ‘growing up,’ believe it or not.”

He tells Dot he would be happy to see her friends if they decide to come for a visit. He gave her detailed directions about which train to take from Chicago, what the visiting hours were, and how to find his ward. Naturally, he’d  like her to save those directions for her own use whenever the opportunity arises. Wishful thinking, undoubtedly.

He ends the letter by telling her a vivid dream he had of Dot. For the present, dreams are the best chance they have of “visiting.”

In Dot’s letter, she comments on Dart’s having forgotten to write on the back of one page of stationery. She told of a similar mental lapse she had the other day when she was filling a pot with water at the kitchen sink. She got to daydreaming and realized the pot in her hand wasn’t getting any heavier. She looked down and saw she was holding it under the cold water tap, but had actually turned on the hot water. “Could it be we’re both absent-minded for the same reason, I hope?”

She told about her father teasing El last night about Don’s last name. It is Badamo, but Arthur Chamberlain has great fun calling him anything but that. El just smiles and lets him have his fun – a good lesson for Dot when she’s the target of her dad’s humor. She says El and Don’s wedding date is a mystery, even to the couple themselves. It all depends on where the war sends him, and when.

Last night, Dot mentioned to her mother that if she had not gone to Andrews School, she would probably never have met Dart. “At that, Mother breathed a sigh and said, ‘If my mother had not missed her train, I might never have met your father.'” Dot asked how old Ruth  had been when she met Arthur, and Ruth whispered romantically, “I was 5 and he was 8.” Dot wasn’t sure if her mother was joking, but she laughed out loud. “You should have seen the pained expression on her face. As if it were the most sacred thing in her life. Perhaps it was – she seems happy enough now.” Suggesting that Ruth Chamberlain was happy in her marriage seems like a major understatement. By all reports, she and Arthur were deeply in love their whole lives. I’ve always believed the greatest family legacy that I’ve received is a long line of strong, happy marriages on both sides.

Dot wrote a paragraph about how “versatile” her family is becoming. Harriet married a Dutchman, Gordon married an Irish Catholic and Eleanor is engaged to an Italian Catholic who is very tolerant of El’s Protestant religion. It seems a little quaint that Dutchmen and Catholics were considered the height of diversity in those days.

In another mother-daughter conversation, Ruth told Dot that she and Arthur had really gotten to know each other primarily through letters. That prompted Dot to go back and re-read some of the letters Dart had sent her, and she concedes that they probably know each other better than she thought. She was also reminded what a good writer he is.

She’s not surprised Dart got a note from a former nurse of his. To Dot’s thinking, perfect patients like him are probably a rare occurrence in the lives of nurses. Once they find one, they spend the rest of their careers hoping to come across another.

Dot becomes uncharacteristically serious in her final paragraph. She’s dismayed that he has developed mumps on the other side. All she wants is for him to get better so he can come home for awhile. “No matter what happens, Dart,  I love you for what you are and for what I am when I think of you and think of being with you.”

Dart explains that he didn’t write yesterday because he’d been ordered back to bed and he wasn’t in a very good mood. It seems the “nurse who rides a broom to work” forced him onto a work detail on his 8th day in the ward because policy dictates that patients be assigned to a crew after 7 days. The doctor was not pleased with the results. Dart is swollen up again and feels lousy.

He likes Dot’s comment that she’d like to have him around when she’s doing dishes (because he makes everything interesting). He says he knows at least one other person who would like to help her dry those dishes any time.

He’s convinced the beauty of Greenwich is Dot Chamberlain. He claims that if he were there, all he would notice of his surroundings would be her. Awwww!

He ends the letter rather abruptly, saying the ice bag on his jaw does not stimulate good thoughts. He asks her to accept his hasty declarations of love. But he adds a P.S. asking again for the date of her birthday and he filled the back page with a drawing of a gremlin, with a cleverly sarcastic caption.

Dot’s letter-writing is falling into a pattern. Once again, she dashes off a quick response to his most recent letters before plopping, exhausted, into bed. After all, she’s on her feet six days a week, and babysits several evenings. No wonder the kid can’t stay awake!

She establishes that she and Dart were not at the World’s Fair on the same day in 1930-something. She then steps up to defend Lois a bit from Dart’s unfavorable review. She sounds like an unusual character, and I can see there’s a powerful contrast between her and Dot. No wonder Dart had such an easy time “choosing” between them on that first, fateful blind date.

Giving in to Dart’s persuasive arguments, she provides him with her Greenwich phone number. She advises that if he gets a whim to call her, he should let her know about it far in advance because she’s away from home so much of the time. “If your heart’s so foolish as to desire to call me – well, three cheers for your heart!” Sounds like she sort of likes the idea. I wager it won’t be long before he puts that phone number to good use.

She confirms that her father would be a handy man to have around the house – except that he is so busy fixing things around other people’s houses that he’s rarely home to fix his own.

In discussing her recent dream of Dart, she confirmed that he was, indeed, wearing his sailor suit. She told him not to fret too much about the menu for his visit. If he just gets himself there, she’ll handle the details. She suggests that if they are going to have “sand” for their sandwiches, they should also have “greens” for their Greenwich. I would add a little “pun”kin pie.

She appreciated his “word picture” of his current ward and is certain that his clever Marine friend, Fred cannot possibly write a letter as interesting or masterful as his own.

What a joyful letter from Dart as he answers two letters from Dot.  He metions something about one of the letters that arrived today looking like it had barely escaped a firey death. Then he asked if any of his letters look as though they’ve been put through a serilizer. I’m curious about that exchange. Is he just being silly, or is it possible that the hospital really does “clean” letters going into or out of a contagious disease ward? When I think of some of the medical practices that were common in Dart’s environs, I wouldn’t be surprised about much.

He confirmed their joint membership in the mutual admiration society and complimented her on getting better at writing the pretty stuff. Still, he says he knows they can both keep the mushy words in perspective – nice to read, but not as important as other things they have to say to each other.

Having read that horse back riding is pricey in Greenwich, he asked how much two very-much-in-love kids might have to pay to rent a tandem bike. He’s obviously giving a lot of thought to a future visit to Greenwich.

He says that, like Dot, everyone asks him how he can write such interesting letters. The only answer he can come up with is that those who ask the question just happen to care a lot about the lug who writes them. Although I put myself in that same category, I disagree with his assessment. His letters are interesting because they use language well, contain interesting observations on a variety of topics, offer a healthy dose of clever humor and are written from the heart.

He was surprised and impressed by Dot’s suggestion that a full moon and dreamy music act like TNT in charging her romantic side. He recalls a couple of nice evenings they’ve shared where there was no full moon, “but whether the music was there or not, I know I heard it when I looked at you.” Such a sweet-talker, this boy!

He’s still confined to bed with an ice bag. He’s eager to be able to move around like a normal person. On the subject of “almost not meeting each other,” he agrees that many things had to conspire in order for that event to occur. He speculates, however that had they not met on the fateful blind date, they would have simply met at another time and place.

He admits to spending a great deal of time dreaming about them being together, and the day when they can stay together forever. He’s convinced that everything that has happened between them shows they are destined for a happily-ever-after ending.

Dot is becoming spoiled by Dart’s faithful letter-writing. In the mornings, she looks forward to seeing his letter on the hall table when she comes home from work for lunch. In the afternoon, she lives off the contents of the letter she’s just received. She says she never imagined how much mental attention one person could occupy in another person’s brain. She claims that again today, she called a customer Dart, but the woman thought she was referring to the darts in her jacket.

Dot cautions him to never write anything in a letter to her mother that he wouldn’t want Dot to read. She says she has not shared his letters with her mother, but Ruth always lets Dot read the ones he writes to her.

Needing to return to work from her lunch break she says she’ll finish the letter later that night. Alas, her mother took her to the library in the evening to research colleges, so she dashed off a final paragraph before going to work the next morning.

There’s not much news in Dart’s letter, but there’s a “whole lotta heart.”  He’s envious of her freedom to sunbathe. It is forbidden at the hospital, but some of the guys do it anyway. “… did you ever see a rule that was not disobeyed?”, he asks.

He still has the ice bag, which he is coming to loathe. It’s such a bother to sleep with and he’s wet all day as a result of its leaking. Still, he says his case is not as serious as some. He’ll tell her what he means by that if she’s ever curious.

Dot had vowed in a recent letter that she would never loose faith in him or in the two of them until it had been proven to be a hopeless case. “You’re so good to me and so faithful. There’ll be darned few times when the case is hopeless, and I’ve a feeling we’ll stick together even through those.”

He asks for nothing from Dot except that she continue to be the same sweet, wonderful girl she is now and that she wait for him until they can be together and make important decisions. He vows to do the same. “By the time we can be together again, I’ll try to make myself a better person, more worthy of your love.”

His emphatic final paragraph exudes an eagerness to see her again. He wants to talk about the things he was thinking of when he wrote that previous paragraph. The poor boy is consumed with homesickness for her.

Delighted that her new stationery finally arrived, Dot settles in to tell Dart about her upcoming 24-hour day. She’ll work at the store from 10:00 until 5:00 when she leaves to babysit Chuck Pecsock, age 2-1/2. Chuck’s mother just gave birth to a daughter, so Dot will provide dinner for Chuck and his dad and stay overnight until it’s time to go back to work. The family has decided they’ll need her for about two weeks.  “It looks like I’m destined to live away from home, even when I’m in town,” she writes.

She has other childcare jobs lined up in the future and likes the idea of padding her bank account so nicely.

She disagrees with Dart that his friends getting engaged is a sign they are all growing up. Dot has seen too many young people get engaged with no apparent idea of what that really means. Still, she sends “Angel” her best wishes for a happy engagement and subsequent marriage.

After thanking Dart for the instructions he sent about how her friends might find him for a visit, she reminds him who these young ladies are. Andy Daubney is the one who says she looks like Betty Grable, Marian Miller is the girl who sat on the pie Dot had left on her bed, and Doris Phinney who was introduced to Dart as the class wit. Now being mentioned in this humble blog has extended their fame by a microscopic amount, 70 years later. I wonder if these letters will reveal whether or not they ever ventured out to Great Lakes Naval Hospital.

She tells Dart she can take a vacation a year from May 15. I doubt he’ll still be around to spend any of that time with her. Certainly not if the Navy has any say in the matter, and I believe they most certainly do!

Finally she quips that if the furniture in the living room of Dart’s dream was in need of reupholstering, he was most assuredly dreaming of her living room!

Not much news again. (I mean what can happen when you’re stuck in bed and have no visitors?) Dot’s was one of four letters Dart received today, and the first one he is answering.

He consoles her on the tiredness she feels after working on her feet all day and counsels that it will get better after awhile. He calls himself “the old man of experience.”

He writes that he is not going to give her advance warning about any phone call he makes to her. He likes surprises. He also passes on word from his mother that she plans on answering Dot’s letter very soon.

He had a sardonic letter from Fred today. Among other sarcastic rants, he said that the only Navy tradition he’s in favor of keeping is the one where the Captain goes down with the ship! Such an attitude, that boy!

He writes a silly little joke in a colloquial New York accent, which he thinks is apt payback for her “green”wich crack in her letter.

He ends the letter by saying it’s his turn to claim sleepiness. Then he signed off with “All my love, til the end of time.” That about sums it up.

Dot warns that the letter may be a bit disjointed because she’s listening to “The Aldridge Family.” The antics of Homer and Henry remind her of the high jinks that went on at Andrews School.

Mr. Pecsock offered to dictate a letter for her if she couldn’t think of anything to say. When she took him up on the offer, he back-pedaled and told her to tell Dart about the dog Ginger. Apparently, she is nearly as clever as the toddler Chuck, who can practically read the newspaper! Dot is obviously staying with a very talented family.

In response to Dart’s question (again) about Dot’s birthday, she writes a very funny and convoluted paragraph without actually mentioning the date. That should keep him busy for a couple of minutes, figuring it out.

She ends the letter by promising to write a better one next time.

Although Dot’s letter was the only one he received today, Dart says he won’t write much. First, he must write to his folks because he didn’t yesterday. Second, there’s not much news to report.

The little news he does have is that he is free of his ice bag and allowed to get out of bed for a few minutes at a time. He claims that if the blonde witch nurse tries to make him do physical labor too soon, she’ll be in for a little resistance.

He relates a “tragic incident” in his ward last night. Around 2:00 a.m. he rolled over in bed and ruptured his ice bag. Frigid water and ice cubes all over his bed and himself! The corpsman who came to dry him off, flip the mattress and change the sheets turned on all the overheard lights to accomplish his task. Dart’s ward mates were none too happy and made several nasty comments about “wetting the bed at his age.”

He intends to keep trying to spoil Dot with long and frequent letters until he’s back on active duty and likely unable to write as much.

He assures her that he will never write anything in a letter to anyone that he wouldn’t want Dot to see. He also assures her that his folks have never, and will never read any of the letters he sends home. He ties them with string and his mother packs them away with the strings intact.

He trusts she’ll let him know her decision when she has chosen a college to attend. Again, he affirms that he loves her and will forever.

Poor Dot! It’s 11:00 p.m. when she finally sits down to write this letter, and she has had quite a day. She takes Dart through it step by step, starting with breakfast for Chuck at 6:30. She gets through hours at the store, painstakingly folding and re-folding stacks of rayon bathing suits while customers wantonly scatter them again, helter-skelter. Finally Mr. Pecsok picks her up and she goes off to cook dinner, clean house, bathe Chuck and send him off to bed while Mr. Pecsok visits his wife in the hospital. At last Dot can take a quiet moment to write to her beloved, but, alas! The phone rings. It is her sister Harriet. She and husband George would like to come visit with their good friend Mr. Pecsok and they would like her to watch their little Toni Gale. Off Dot traipses to babysit for her niece, with a promise from Harriet that they’ll be home “early.” Dot’s mother calls to say that several other couples have joined the “party” at the Pecsok’s, so it looks as though Harriet and George may be a little later than expected. Phew! Did I mention that she made the beds and did the dishes at the Pecsok home this morning before walking a mile to Chuck’s nursery school in time to catch a bus and get to work? No wonder this girl’s exhausted. Well, at least she’s making a whopping 25 cents per hour!

Regarding Dart’s query about his letters possibly going through the sterilizer, she responds that the blue lining of his airmail stationery does look like it ran a little. “However, having no place to go, it didn’t run far.”

She agrees that he is quite right to assume her family is a pack of kidders. She assures him, however, that she can give as good as she gets, and she just teases them right back.

She thought she heard Harriet coming home, but it was a false alarm. Asking Dart’s indulgence, she signs off to take a late-night nap on the sofa.

Dart  begins by warning Dot that this is another of the kind of letter he’s been writing more of lately. He’s not in a very good mood and he feels lousy. He predicts he’ll feel better after writing a few sour remarks.

There is some dubious good news, although the way Dart feels physically, it’s not so good. He has been returned to his former ward because his mumps quarantine is over. Dr. Pumphrey has declared his cyst healed and fit for duty. The other doctors at Ward 85 will decide his fate after they meet with him. Here’s the rub: the ward doctors have a reputation of sending everyone back to active duty as soon as possible. Dart is eager to get back to life, but his legs get rubbery, his heart pounds and he gets winded at the slightest exertion. He fears that if he’s discharged to boot camp now he’ll be back in the hospital soon, in far worse shape.

Dart says this could be a turning point for his luck and he has an inescapable inkling that his luck will get worse. He tells Dot not to give him any blarney about his positive spirit, because he doesn’t have that now!

Now on to her letter – He likes her sharp new stationery. He’s impressed by her 24-hour day and jokes about her getting time and a half for any hours over eight.  He assumes young Chuck will be disappointed that he can’t play with his baby sister right away.

Dart agrees with her that too many teens are getting engaged to be married – often with disastrous results. He’s sure that his friends John and Sally are in this for good and that they’ll make a success of it. Still, they have no money in the bank and no idea what comes next in their lives. Dart has ideas about things he’d like to have in place before he would ever make the leap to engagement and marriage. He says Dot figures into his plans, but that the time is inappropriate to air those plans right now . They’ll keep for a later date.

His final paragraph announces “That was just what I needed. Just write it down, embellish it a bit, add some amorous thoughts, whip it up and serve it on paper to my love. That’s you. You’re a tonic.”

Dot begins her letter by quoting a book or an article she is reading. “There is nothing that brings two people closer together than separation.”  How happy she is to hear that, because she wouldn’t want them to get tired of each other. “Fat chance of that happening,” she adds.

“Wait for you?,” she asks. There is absolutely no alternative. First, all the unattached males in her life are either toddlers or supported by a cane. Second, she has no interest in anyone else. She has strong ideas about the perfect man for her, and all such men currently reside at Great Lakes, Illinois.

She’s spending tonight at a different house caring for two young children. Having made $12.00 this week by babysitting, she claims to be considering a child care business called “Dot’s School for Tots.” Or “If You Don’t Care How Your Kids are Brung Up, Bring ’em to Dot’s.” She tells Dart that she loves kids so much that she’d consider adopting a slew of them just to hear their chatter.

She tells of a hot and humid day at the store. Even the wrapping paper was soggy. She’s decided that hot, cranky customers and sleepy, crank y Dot are not a good combination, so she’s trying to get more sleep this weekend.

Once more, she asks Dart to forgive her for always writing to him when she is so tired, but late night is the only time she can manage to squeeze in a little time. She wants to send him another care package, but she has no idea what to include. With tongue firmly planted in cheek, she suggests jaw-breakers. She asks him for ideas. “The more unusual the request, the better I like it.”

This letter from Dart is a variety pack: a pinch of pathos, a smattering of trivia, some “inside navy” chatter, a clever riff and a heavy dose of profound, intimate heart songs.

First, the pathos. Dart has been ordered back to duty. And he has been forbidden to appeal the decision to a higher authority. He has strong misgivings about his immediate fitness, but he’s putting the best face possible on it. He’s hoping this will be the change in luck he and Dot have been counting on, and he hopes that change is for the better.

The trivia is the news that his brother Burke has been inducted into the National Honor Society and his parents wrote that they miss seeing Dot.

The inside Navy chatter came in response to Dot’s question about the credentials of Navy doctors. I suspect Dot’s tone was tongue-in-cheek, but Dart chose to answer in compete and accurate detail. This “dissertation” reminded me of a line we borrowed from a Stan Freburg album when we were kids: Ask Dad a simple question, you get a pageant. I predict you’ll see that side of Dart a time or two in future letters. Maybe I’ll instigate a safe word to let readers know there’s a pageant coming on and they may choose to avert their eyes.

In this day’s letter, he saves the best parts for last. Treat yourself to a reading of his paragraph about figuring out Dot’s birthday. Such a fun and snappy writing style.

And finally, some endearing lines about how he came to be in this relationship with the perfect girl. Here’s an exerpt: It seems like all my hopes and dreams and faith are coming true. … I’ve dreamed of a sweet girl who would love me as I loved her. …And now you’re making my dreams come true. You’re the justification of my faith. …I’m probably old-fashioned in believing that a kiss is something sacred, not merely to be asked or given in exchange for a pleasant evening; that endearing words were meant mainly for those who felt the same about each other and who believed in each other and the words they were using. …And now that I have met you, I feel that all the taunts of being “slow,” the seeming incompleteness of my former acquaintanceships, the occasional loneliness… — all these are justified. I love you, my dearest Dot.

A scant page and a half is all Dot could muster today. She’s back at Pecsok’s – her favorite home-away-from home. Today when she arrived, ready to prepare the family dinner, Mr. P. had already cooked up a marvelous chicken feast. Dot explained that she had cooked a dehydrated baked bean dinner the night before and had managed to dry the beans out even more. She claims they looked exactly like fertilizer! Could she have stumbled upon the reason Mr. Pecsok did the cooking tonight?

The English sailors she’s mentioned before stopped by tonight. They are leaving town tomorrow and will be home in less than a week. “It makes England seem awfully close, doesn’t it?”