Dear Cyndy,

Margaret agrees with me that we should invite Joanna, 
Elizabeth and/or yourself to store in our house and
garage, on a serve-yourself basis, Joanna's belongings
until Harvard is ready to receive them, When Harvard
does open its doors, I could drive Joanna and her things
into Cambridge.  If we had a few days' notice, we would
also have space for any or all of you to camp in our
house overnight, meals included, for however many nights
you could stand it.  You should know me well enough by
now to understand that I don't indulge in ceremony,
and that Margaret has no choice.

Mr. James Blevins, my roofing expert, finally did show up.
He came on Saturday afternoon, dressed in his week-end best.
With a crown of white hair and a neat white mustache, he
looked very dignified indeed, not at all like the human
squirrel I had expected, but rather like a minister of the
Gospel intent on catechizing, or the home-town banker
stopping by to ask why the delay on the monthly repayment
of the loan. He did, however, scramble up the roof to inspect
it, and report what I already knew, that it was sorely in need
of replacement. He wouldn't let me pay him, but promised to
make temporary repairs. He did. He came on Tuesday, carried
can of roofing cement up the ladder and climbed across the
ridge to the shed dormer that was leaking; spent 50 minutes
applying tar to the damaged shingles, and then refused to
accept more than $20 for both of his visits. He said that
he himself was too old to take on the job of replacing the
roof but would refer an acquaintance with whom he had
often worked in the past. That was a Mr. John G. Williams
who came yesterday from Chilhowie to give me a bid for
renewing the roof with an additional layer of 30 year
architectural shingles, replacing the flat roof over
the porch, installing a ridge vent and 12 soffit vents
to obviate condensation, (won't work unless insulation
is removed) and painting the trim of the doors and windows
and the very prominent soffit which you can see on the
pictures. Mr. Williams said that he could start on June 18
or June 22, and weather permitting, finish before we leave
on July 1. Wisely or otherwise, I accepted his offer without
obtaining competing bids, and gave him a 50 percent
downpayment, the balance due when the work is complete.
I hope I didn't make a mistake. I hope Mr. Williams shows
up to do the work, and doesn't take the money and run.

I'm interested, of course, in all the things one can do
to protect oneself against electric power outage. My conclusion,
however, is that such arrangements are not worth the expense,
the effort to install, and particularly to maintain them.
I plan no such installations for Konnarock.  Subject to that
disclaimer, I like to reflect on the physics and economics of
water storage. I've often contemplated how practical it would
be to store water in ordinary 32 gallon plastic garbage containers,
which Home Depot will sell you for $12 each, which can be fitted
with inexpensive plastic flanged nipples to permit drainage from
the bottom via a garden hose or 1/2" pipe. Such barrels could be
ganged together, filled from the well when electricity was 
available, and kept fresh with an intermittent or continuous
stream of slowly flowing water. If one were not afraid of leakage,
one could place such barrels on the second or third floor and
have gravity drainage, perhaps even into the existing supply
plumbing, otherwise one would have to carry the water from the
basement in a bucket, not quite so convenient, but closer than
the pond. All this is far beyond the imagination range of the
plumbing codes; and might give the inspector a stroke. More
about electric generators and batteries later.

Now that my surveillance system is installed and I have capitulated
to conventional roof repair by opening the checkbook, I have
few other immediate maintenance obligations. The washing machine is
a problem. I opened its housing, found nothing to obstruct the drum's
rotation. The drive belt is tight. Presumably the impaired spinning
velocity is the result of a bad clutch or a defective bearing, access
to either of which would require extensive dismantling of the drive
assembly. I'm concerned that, since its misbehavior is intermittent
the repair man, when summoned, might say there was nothing wrong, or
that what was wrong was irreparable, and then I would not longer be
able to conceal from myself the fact of my being a fool. Meanwhile
I shall try to deal with the problem by offering to do the laundry
myself, since wringing out clothes by hand seems to me a very natural
thing to do. I remember watching the maids do it, when I was a child.
Sooner or later, we'll have to buy a new washing machine, although
I've never solved the problem of protecting it against freezing. The
rubber parts would be damaged by ethylene glycol or methyl alcohol.

For several days now, I have been working, virtually non-stop, on
my novel. The effort is very satisfying, but I must reconcile myself
to the circumstance that there's no end in sight. In the context of
these efforts, a poem of Hoelderlin's "Mein Eigentum" came to mind.
It's title already suggests to me the subtleties of language. Although
"Mein Eigentum" is correctly translated as "My Property", there is
a world of difference between the two purported equivalents, inasmuch
as "property" designates what belongs to me in the public arena,
while "Eigentum" refers to what is actually (eigentlich) emotionally
my own, no matter where the legal title might vest. I spent some
hours trying to translate it; but the melody of the original is so
enchanting that I'm dissatisfied with the result. Perhaps I shouldn't
even have tried, but since I did, I might as well show it to you
for whatever you might make of it.

Margaret wants you to know that when she's not supporting the top of
the washing machine that I am in process of disembowelling, she is
reading Trollope "The way we live now" a book about which Margaret 
suspects you will have much to say.

Please give my best to Ned.

Jochen


Mein Eigentum - Hoelderlin

In seiner Fülle ruhet der Herbsttag nun,
Geläutert ist die Traub und der Hain ist rot
Vom Obst, wenn schon der holden Blüten
Manche der Erde zum Danke fielen.

Und rings im Felde, wo ich den Pfad hinaus
Den stillen wandle, ist den Zufriedenen
Ihr Gut gereift, und viel der frohen
Mühe gewähret der Reichtum ihnen.

Vom Himmel blicket zu den Geschäftigen
Durch ihre Bäume milde das Licht herab,
Die Freude teilend, denn es wuchs durch
Hände der Menschen allein die Frucht nicht.

Und leuchtest du, o Goldnes, auch mir, und wehst
Auch du mir wieder Lüftchen, als segnetest
Du eine Freude mir, wie einst, und
Irrst, wie um Glückliche, mir am Busen.

Einst war ichs, doch wie Rosen, vergänglich war
Das fromme Leben, ach und es mahnen noch
Die blühend mir geblieben sind, die
Holden Gestirne zu oft mich dessen.

Beglückt, wer, ruhig liebend ein frommes Weib,
Am eignen Herd in rühmlicher Heimat lebt,
Es leuchtet über festem Boden
Schöner dem sicheren Mann sein Himmel.

Denn, wie die Pflanze, wurzelt auf eignem Grund
Sie nicht, verglüht die Seele des Sterblichen
Der mit dem Tageslichte nur, ein
Armer auf heiliger Erde wandelt.

Zu mächtig ach! ihr himmlischen Höhen zieht
Ihr mich empor; bei Stürmen, am heitern Tag
Fühl ich verzehrend euch im Busen
Wechseln, ihr wandelnden Götterkräfte.

Doch heute laß mich stille den trauten Pfad
Zum Haine gehn dem golden die Wipfel schmückt
Sein sterbend Laub, und kränzt auch mir die
Stirne ihr holden Erinnerungen!

Und daß auch mir zu retten mein sterblich Herz
Wie andern eine bleibende Stätte sei
Und heimatlos die Seele mir nicht
Über das Leben hinweg sich sehne

Sei du, Gesang, mein freundlich Asyl! sei du
Beglückender! mit sorgender Liebe mir
Gepflegt, der Garten, wo ich, wandelnd
Unter den Blüten, den immerjungen

In sichrer Einfalt wohne, wenn draußen mir
Mit ihren Wellen alle die mächtge Zeit
Die Wandelbare fern rauscht und die
Stillere Sonne mein Wirken fördert.

Ihr segnet gütig über den Sterblichen
Ihr Himmelskräfte! jedem sein Eigentum,
O segnet meines auch und daß zu
Frühe die Parze den Traum nicht ende.

===============================
Mein Eigentum
My Own

In seiner Fülle ruhet der Herbsttag nun,
In all its fullness now rests the autumn day

Geläutert ist die Traub und der Hain ist rot
The grapes are pressed; the grove is flushed

Vom Obst, wenn schon der holden Blüten
with fruit, albeit some of its gracious flowers

Manche der Erde zum Danke fielen.
have already gratefully fallen to earth.


Und rings im Felde, wo ich den Pfad hinaus
In the surrounding fields, where I follow

Den stillen wandle, ist den Zufriedenen
the silent path, a bounteous harvest

Ihr Gut gereift, und viel der frohen
rewards the work of contented owners.

Mühe gewähret der Reichtum ihnen.
And their wealth is requited with blissful toil.


Vom Himmel blicket zu den Geschäftigen
Mild heavenly light shines through their trees

Durch ihre Bäume milde das Licht herab,
onto the laborers, sharing their joy.

Die Freude teilend, denn es wuchs durch
for it was not solely the hands of men

Hände der Menschen allein die Frucht nicht.
That made the fruit to grow.


Und leuchtest du, o Goldnes, auch mir, und wehst
Shine also on me, o golden light,

Auch du mir wieder Lüftchen, als segnetest
And gentle breezes, waft as aforetime about me

Du eine Freude mir, wie einst, und
autumnal airs, bestowing a blessing on me,

Irrst, wie um Glückliche, mir am Busen.
Cavorting with me as if I were happy.


Einst war ichs, doch wie Rosen, vergänglich war
Upon a time it was so, but blissful existence

Das fromme Leben, ach und es mahnen noch
is as transient as roses

Die blühend mir geblieben sind, die
and now only the flowering stars 

Holden Gestirne zu oft mich dessen.
remain to remind of its passing. 


Beglückt, wer, ruhig liebend ein frommes Weib,
Happy is he who in quiet love with a faithful wife

Am eignen Herd in rühmlicher Heimat lebt,
lives in respect and honor at his own hearth.

Es leuchtet über festem Boden
Heaven shines all the more brightly on him

Schöner dem sicheren Mann sein Himmel.
who stands safe and secure on solid earth


Denn, wie die Pflanze, wurzelt auf eignem Grund
For, like a plant, unless rooted in soil of its own

Sie nicht, verglüht die Seele des Sterblichen
the soul of a mortal will fade,

Der mit dem Tageslichte nur, ein
if like a pauper he wastes the light of day

Armer auf heiliger Erde wandelt.
as he scurries across the holy earth.


Zu mächtig ach! ihr himmlischen Höhen zieht
Too violently, oh, you heavenly heights

Ihr mich empor; bei Stürmen, am heitern Tag
Am I attracted to you: in tempests, even on sunny days

Fühl ich verzehrend euch im Busen
I perceive you gnawing within me.

Wechseln, ihr wandelnden Götterkräfte.
Forever changing, inconstant celestial powers.


Doch heute laß mich stille den trauten Pfad
But leave me today to follow the silent path

Zum Haine gehn dem golden die Wipfel schmückt
to the grove whose branches are gilded

Sein sterbend Laub, und kränzt auch mir die
with dying leaves; wreathe also my brow

Stirne ihr holden Erinnerungen!
with enchanted memories!


Und daß auch mir zu retten mein sterblich Herz
And that also to save my mortal heart

Wie andern eine bleibende Stätte sei
there should be as for others some enduring abode,

Und heimatlos die Seele mir nicht
Lest homeless my soul should longingly

Über das Leben hinweg sich sehne
wander beyond the boundaries of life,


Sei du, Gesang, mein freundlich Asyl! sei du
Be thou, my song, my refuge and friend,

Beglückender! mit sorgender Liebe mir
Be thou, happy song, nourished with caring love.

Gepflegt, der Garten, wo ich, wandelnd
the garden where I walk amidst flowers,

Unter den Blüten, den immerjungen
eternally young, and dwell


In sichrer Einfalt wohne, wenn draußen mir
in safe simplicity, while round about me

Mit ihren Wellen alle die mächtge Zeit
with all its waves, mighty and changeable

Die Wandelbare fern rauscht und die
time thunders afar, but a quiet sun

Stillere Sonne mein Wirken fördert.
furthers my efforts.


Ihr segnet gütig über den Sterblichen
You graciously bless, oh powers of heaven

Ihr Himmelskräfte! jedem sein Eigentum,
the belongings of every mortal,

O segnet meines auch und daß zu
Bless also what is my own,

Frühe die Parze den Traum nicht ende.
and may the fates not end my dream prematurely.

===============================
My Own

The autumn day reposes in all its fullness.
The grapes are pressed; the grove is flushed
with fruit, although some of its flowers
have already fallen to thank the earth.

In the surrounding fields, where I follow
a lonely path, the bounteous harvest
rewards the work of contented owners.
Their wealth is requited with blissful toil.

Mild heavenly light shines through their trees
onto the laborers, sharing their joy,
for it was not solely the hands of men
that caused the fruit to mature.

Shine also on me, oh golden light,
And gentle breezes, waft as of old 
autumnal airs, and bestow your blessing on me,
Cavorting with me as if happiness were my lot.

Upon a time it was so, but blissful
existence is transient as roses
and now there remain only the flowering stars 
to remind of its passing. 

Happy who quietly loving a faithful wife
lives honorably at a hearth of his own.
Heaven shines all the more brightly on him
who stands safe and secure on solid earth.

For, like a plant, unless rooted in soil,
the soul of a mortal will fade,
if like a pauper wasting the light of day
he scurries across the holy earth.

Too violently, oh, you heavenly heights
am I attracted to you: in tempests, even on sunny days
I perceive your turmoil within me,
forever changing, inconstant celestial powers.

But leave me today to follow the silent path
to the grove whose branches are gilded
with dying leaves; and wreathe my brow
with enchanted memories!

And that also to save my mortal heart
like others I had some enduring abode,
lest homeless my soul should longingly
wander beyond the boundaries of life,

Be thou, my song, my refuge and friend,
felicitous verse, nourished with loving care,
the garden where I walk amidst flowers,
eternally young, and dwell

in safe simplicity, while round about me
with all its waves, mighty and changeable
time thunders afar, but a quiet sun
furthers my efforts.

You graciously bless, oh powers of heaven,
the belongings of every mortal,
Bless also what is my own,
and may the fates not end my dream prematurely.

===============================