Dear Uncle Jack,

I thought you'd like to know a little bit about your future grand-nephew. His name is John Cartan, and like you and Grandpa Herman, he's a redhead.

He stands 6-foot-3-inches tall, has milk-chocolate brown eyes and freckles. He lives in Canyon Creek, Montana, about 30 miles from Helena, in a cabin that was his grandmother's home. He is a computer programmer and also he writes fiction. Right now he's working on a fairy tale, a draft of which I sent Dorothy as she said she's looking for children's books-material. Of course you know I would want a husband who understands the importance of the printed word.

John is caring and thoughtful and sensitive in addition to being quite handsome. He drove three days to meet me in person - we actually met about a month-and-a-half ago through a computer network that acts like a telephone party line. We started out as friends, of course, and followed up occasional get-togethers with long telephone calls. So a romance begins.

Anyway, he had suggested that I visit Montana, which I was reluctant to do until he double-dared me. Well, you know how that Draikin blood in me carries an adventurous spirit. So I agreed to, and set aside vacation time for June. Then, three Sundays ago, I told him that Dad suggested that he come see me first. Much to my surprise, John said he would throw caution to the winds and he started packing. He called me each night on the road, and showed up on my doorstep that Wednesday with three red roses.

We spent a lot of time together - I took some time off work - and the strangest thing happened. I kept thinking about marrying him, and when I told him how frightening that was - it's a big change, after all - he told me that he kept thinking the same thing. So to calm me, when we discussed marriage and children, he would tag "hypothetically speaking" to his suggestions. The night before he left, he proposed. And I accepted.

That was last Monday. I came home Friday to a dozen red roses with a note from John thanking me for making him "the happiest man alive."

So now we are jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire: He moves here in July, and we will live together with my dog and his two cats and marry in May in South Bend. I hope you will be there; I know it is a ways for you to travel.

Well, then, that's all for now.

I love you, Uncle Jack.