Dear Marion,

If sympathetic thoughts over a chasm of a thousand miles
could alleviate disease, you would be in perfect health;
but even in the absence of therapeutic telepathy (what
an oxymoron!) - I hope you have reverted to your usual
cheerful and confident disposition. There is, however,
no need for proof or demonstration with a lengthy letter.

A few minutes ago I studied the calendar and concluded
that, unless summoned back by an appeals court ruling,
we would probably stay here another six weeks; then to
be in Belmont until July 8, returning here for the six
day visit of Klemens and his family. How long we would
stay in July after they have left, depends on the evolution
of the Nantucket affair; nominally the appeals court is to
render a decision by June 18, - but I suspect that if a 
schedule interferes with their vacation plans, they have
strategies that will give them more time.

Meanwhile I've been trying to discipline myself to work
more systematically. Each morning I spend three or four hours
writing, not necessarily anything woth reading. But at least
I try. Unless I must drive into town for an errand, I spend
the afternoon putting the premises in order, outside if it's
dry, inside the house if the grass is still wet. This afternoon
I took several hours "troubleshooting" my surveillance system.
Two of the cameras failed because of "open circuits", - broken
wires in the long cables to which they are connected. The 
circumstance that these cable are buried and must be dug up
without sustaining further damage if they are to be tested,
makes the repair an interesting project. But now it's done.  All
four cameras are functioning, and I go on to the next project.

The latter part of the afternoon, I mowed the lawn, using a
self-propelled mower which is now eleven years old. The blade
is very dull. I must see about sharpening it. The electric
starter is broken, but I've learned to start the mower manually
with little difficulty.

Tomorrow morning, I'll try to add to chapter 40 of my novel,
and if that fails, I'll try to consider the consequences of
idealization - and deidealization for political and economic
theory. Finally, as a last resort, I might try to add to the
notes about my family, which I have been urged to prepare for
possible publication, but a project which I contemplate with
many misgivings. In the afternoon, there'll be more cleaning
up, of the lawn and the abutting woodland if the weather is dry,
otherwise in the basement and on the second floor. All this
contingent on the cooperation of my arthritic right hip
which regularly threatens to go on strike, but has so far
let itself be intimidated by occupational therapy under the
banner: kill or cure.

It can't go on forever. In six weeks I'll be eighty years old.
I'm reminded of a mantra of my mother's with which she dismissed
an ill-advised love affair, but apposite I think also to the most
ominous of them all: "Besser ein Ende mit Schrecken, als ein
Schrecken ohne Ende."

Jochen