Dear Cyndy,

This morning I reneged on my resolution of immediate replies
to your letters. At 8:30 a.m., my lumberjack telephoned to
announce his appearance in the afternoon, at 2 p.m. In order
to be back by then, I needed to advance my trip to town.
I left soon after 9 a.m., driving first to Lowe's in Abingdon
to return various items of hardware that I discovered I didn't
need, and to pick up the last of 9 venetian blinds I'm
installing, - the 27 inch length had been out of stock,
as well as rubber cups to slip over the legs of the very
comfortable ladder-back chair of Margrit's that I imported
from Detroit, and on which I can sit for hours without any
complaints from my hip. On the way back, I stopped at the
local supermarket in Chilhowie, - it calls itself Food City,
to get enough groceries to last us until next Tuesday
when we start back to Belmont.

Yesterday afternoon, during a thunderstorm, the lights went
out, not to come back for about three hours. I took the
occasion to start to read one of the books from Margrit's
library a large portion of which I've put on newly installed
shelves on the second floor. The book I picked up was
Solzhenitsyn's The First Circle. Perhaps symbolic that I
should read it in nominal darkness. By the time the lights
came back on, I was on page 49. I stopped reading to return
to my own work. The translation was intelligent and sensitive;
but as always, I longed for the original Russian, so hopelessly
inaccessible to me. I sensed the quality of Solzhenitsyn's
writing, and I believe I gained some intimation of his aim;
but I'm not sure I want to follow him into the labyrinth where
his characters live. For better or for worse, I have too much
else on my mind.

I've thought more about the surface gutters for receiving the
rain that pours of the roof so many times each week in this
semi-tropical climate. The galvanized sheet metal out of which
stove pipes are fashioned is sold in sheets designed to be
clamped at the time of installation, into lengthy cylinders.
If one foregoes the clamping, one is left with a hemi-cylinder
whose open side is six to ten inches wide, just the dimension
one would need to catch the rain water. It would be the simplest
of carpentry tasks to fashion a frame of 1x4 treated lumber 
to hold these surface gutters rigid, properly elevated and
properly pitched. Placed one under the other at an angle
end to end, they could be positioned so that the water would
cascade from one into the next, ultimately dropping into a
dry well remote from the foundation wall. If the Appeals Court
doesn't send me to Nantucket, maybe I'll have a chance to
experiment this fall.

While in Chilhowie, I also took the occasion to look at wood
burning stoves in the Smyth County Farm Bureau store, considering
how to reduce the costs of heating the house, if as I would like,
Margaret and I spend a large part of the winter here. These plans
will require much further thought.

Stay well and give my best to Ned.

Jochen