Dear Cyndy,

Even if I thought I should, I would be unable to tell
_you_ what to do with regard to your possible purchase
of the Granfield house. All I can do is to try to imagine
myself in your situation and tell you the considerations
that come to mind. Problems are seldom, if ever "solved".
More commonly problems are exchanged: a familiar problem
is replaced by one that is unexpected.  The trick is to
control the transformation of problems, to the end that
one might be confronted with those opportunities and 
challenges that are most edifying and constructive.

My parents returned from their only trip to Europe in
November 1956. They had been gone for six months. My
mother was fifty-eight years old, and subsequently,
during the remaining thirty four years of her life,
she often expressed the wish, sometimes with much
eloquence and force, to go back to Germany for one
more visit. Initially it was my father's resistance
that she could not overcome. As the years passed,
perhaps because she thought that she and my father
could no longer manage by themselves, my mother would
say: "Lasst uns doch alle zusammen noch einmal nach
Deutschland fahren." (Let's, all of us together,
go to Germany once more.) Except for her weekly
request that we demonstrate family solidarity by
appearing together in church, her wish that Klemens,
Margaret and I accompany my parents on a trip to
Europe, is the only thing that my mother asked of
me which I consistently declined.

My refusal - or inability - was a paradox that I have
meditated on for many years. I've described how dependent
on my parents I was as a child, how miserable I was made 
by separation from them; and yet unable or unwilling to
make that trip to Germany that my mother so longed for. 
From 1945 when I left Konnarock for Philadelphia, until 1990,
when my mother died, I made at minimum 4 trips annually to
visit my parents, aggregating as much as a whole year of my
life (360 days in the car or on the train) or 306000 miles
of travel. (The moon is only 238852 miles away.) If I had
to explain my resistance against taking my parents to Europe,
I would adduce the circumstance that my mother felt the need
to plan, to prescribe, to control what I could and what I
couldn't do, and that here at home in the familiar surroundings,
our respective needs, - hers for management, mine for independence, -
had found their natural compromise in our domestic arrangements. 
Because that compromise would not survive export, the trip to
Europe couldn't come off.

From my perspective, expectations of what Joanna and/or the
San Francisco grandchildren (whose names I've forgotten) might
cherish in the hereafter, are unrealistic, to put it mildly.
We must at all costs, resist the temptation to legislate beyond the grave. 
Ned's satisfaction with any project of yours should be your chief concern.
If, but only if, Ned were eager to move into the Granfield house with you,
perhaps you should buy it even if it's overpriced. If your buying the
Granfield house makes no sense unless you expect to make use of it
without Ned, then you shouldn't buy it even at a (very) low price,
unless you had prospective renters for it, - which seems unlikely -
or unless it were economically rational to leave it vacant - which is
similarly unlikely. Building a house yourself - as distinct from hiring
it done by an architect and a contractor, and as distinct from purchasing
a (partially) prefabricated house, - can be an exhilarating and
creative experience, - up to and including the application for
direct appellate review - . I would be ready to help you in any
way you thought appropriate, - but I'm concerned that for so
ambitious an enterprise, at our age, it's too late: time has
already run out on us both.

Don't think of me as an insensitive miser, when I point out that
dispassionate economic considerations frequently provide the 
optimal answer to such challenges as the possible purchase of
the Granfield house poses for you. If you could reasonably anticipate
that the Granfield property bought at $525,000 would have a
net appreciation of 6% per year for the next 20 years, then
of course, you should buy it. Or stated differently, you should
arguably buy the Granfield property at a price which would yield,
net of maintenance and taxes, an appreciation of 6% per year.
I don't know what that price might be, but I suspect, considerably
less than half a million dollars.  Remember that in addition to taxes,
the house will periodically need a new roof, will require outside
painting, and that the pond will fill in unless it's cleaned regularly,
and that even if you wanted it, you can't buy insurance for an
unoccupied dwelling.

Equally important is the funding. You don't want to commit to so
illiquid an asset, funds which you or Ned, or any of you children
or grandchidlren might need for living expenses, - not to mention
doctors' bills. You certainly don't want to borrow money. I suspect
that at the right price, undeveloped land with low taxes and requiring
no maintenance, might indeed be a good long term investment.
When I was practicing general medicine in Damascus 50 years ago,
one of my patients' explanation for refusing to sell her farm land
was that "they're not making any more." Wooded land was then selling
for $25/acre; farm land for $100. As long as the population continues
to increase, land prices will continue to rise, and, incidentally,
as the national debt continues to increase, the value of money is
likely to plummet, and those of us who are sitting on cash are at
risk for severe losses. Maybe, instead of pontificating at such length,
I should be out even now, searching for woods and fields and streams
in which to invest. But maybe I'm too old and decrepit, and would end
up making mistakes.

Finally, one very important consideration: Your family has three
houses in Canaan already, and they're not all occupied all the time.
And no one is so wealthy that money makes no difference.
There's Jane's house, there's Heyshott, and the house which Peter
inherited and which I haunted and which still haunts me. And then
there's money, optimally to be kept in the family. From my
perspective by far the most economically rational program would
be for you to pay Gillian, or Jane, or Peter's children an appropriate
rent for whatever days or weeks or months you (and I hope also Ned)
want to spend in Canaan. It'll be much less than $525000. Then, if
the furnishings aren't exactly to your liking, grit your teeth and
summon your imagination to redecorate the premises the way they were
70 years ago, kerosene lamps and all.

When you and Ned get tired of Canaan, there's Konnarock waiting for
you, rich in history, and rent free.

That's enough for now. Stay well, and give my regards to Ned.

Jochen

PS: Klemens just telephoned to report on the family. Rebekah came
home Saturday night dispirited because all her associates (?friends)
spend Friday and Saturday night drinking. She doesn't join them.
Nathaniel already resigned from the orchestra of his college at
Yale, because "It's just like a high school orchestra." and was
invited nonetheless to participate in the dress rehearsals and concerts.
He is principal trumpet of the Yale Orchestra, and has organized 
something he calls the Amadeus Ensemble of which he will be conductor,
to play mostly Mozart. He has published a manifesto (which I haven't
seen) promising music not as entertainment but as devotion. In addition
to a course in advanced music theory, he is taking a philosophy survey
course and an intensive 10 hour a week course in German. The last two
of which he might have taken in Belmont without charge, had not his
mother kept him incommunicado from his grandfather, with whom he is now,
music aside, trying to catch up. That's life.