Dear Marion, Thanks for your two letters, the first about the little car, the second about the missing money. I didn't reply to the first, because I didn't want to distract you from your awesome tasks of clearing your apartment, moving, and preparing to leave for France in only 10 days. Even now, please don't feel obliged to reply; we can start talking on the 26th - little more than 3 weeks from now, when I fetch you from the Boston airport. I have kept busy; nothing heroic. In consequence of your very helpful suggestion, I submitted claims for the funds owed to the Ernst J. Meyer who lives in Belmont, and the one supposedly in Newton. The one I know in Belmont has no Doppelgaenger, and I hypothesize that his double was inadvertently relocated to Newton via a garbled ZIP code: 02178 misread as 02158. I'll report to you on what happens. My other accomplishment was to fell a 3" diameter pin oak tree which had sprouted among the decorative bushes too close to the house and which I had neglected for too many years. My shoulder- arm assembly didn't have the power to start the balky chain saw; but I improvised, using an electric handsaw whose cut was just deep enough to accomplish my purpose. This morning I took our 2005 minivan, now 81000 miles down the highway, for an oil change, due I thought after three roundtrips to Detroit and one roundtrip to Konnarock. My diligence was rewarded with a cryptic note penned at the bottom of the $32.80 bill: "Front Rotors and Pads very soon" In response I retrieved from my collection the CD of the Daimler-Chrysler 2005 Service Manual, which I had bought when I acquired the car, and printed out 35 pages of maintenance and repair instructions for the vehicle's front disc brakes. In addition, I found on the Internet relevant essays from periodicals and patent applications, on the basis of which I'll cross-examine the manager of the repair shop about the necessity of having this expensive work done on a wholly asymptomatic and uncomplaining automobile before setting out for Virginia on Tuesday. Jochen