Dear Marion,

Thank you, and thank Micha very much for the candid
criticism of Nathaniel's Dvorak performances. Because
of my impaired hearing, if not on account of my musical
prejudices, I consider myself disqualified from any
opinion. It's essential for Nathaniel to be exposed
to criticism, and I am confident he will benefit from
the advice that Micha gave him.

As for myself, I've spent much of the past six days
writing chapter 47 of Die Freunde, which is now on
my website. I enjoyed the process of composition; I
take pleasure in reading and rereading what I have 
written, but I can't in good conscience - and good
taste - recommend my ruminations to others, including
yourself. It's not worth your time or effort.

An interlude day before yesterday, Thursday morning,
when we awoke to find the floors of both bathrooms
covered with water. Water leaked through the floor
into the basement which even today is left with pools
of water on the concrete. Fortunately the oak floors
were spared. In fact the only significant damage was
to the sixty page chain saw instruction booklet, 
which now interleaved with pieces of paper towel, is still
drying out. My first thought: inferior workmanship by
that unlicensed plumber. Water from a broken pipe 
which seeped from one bathroom to the adjacent one.
a thought that occurred early in the morning when my
mind wasn't ready to think straight. My first move:
into the basement to turn off the power to the submersible
pump in the well, presented me with the surprise that
the needle on the pressure gauge pointed to "0". How
could water be pouring out of the pipes if it was under
no pressure at all? I threw the switch nonetheless, and
observed the needle retreating. It had in fact moved
"around the clock", and had been registering a pressure
not of 0 but of 100 mm Hg or higher. The entire system,
the pump, the pressure tank, the hot water tank and all
the pipes had tolerated the pressure, only the plastic
connections to the two toilet tanks had leaked. I've
replaced the pressure switch with no interference from
any Mr. Ciarmataro, and now my plumbing system is again 
functioning normally.

At this juncture, my train of thought was interrupted by a 
telephone call from Klemens who read to me Mr. Esposito's answers
to my questionnaire which appeared in the Konnarock mailbox
on Saturday. Significantly, Mr. Esposito refused his signature,
and provided me with an unsigned memorandum which I couldn't file 
with the Court even if I wanted to. I will attach a copy on which 
I have typed his written answers, which though not entirely favorable, 
would on balance probably help rather than hurt my case.  When I
review this document with Mr. Esposito at the time of
deposition, as I intend to, I hope to be able to persuade
the Court if not Mr. Esposito himself of his misconceptions,
both with respect to engineering and to law. It will be very
interesting, but also very difficult. (Please don't feel
obligated to spend any time at all on the questionnaire.)

Last evening I received you perceptive and sensitive letter
to which the well-worn "thank you" can not do justice. I'm
especially gratified by your corroboration of my biological
interpretation of music "appreciation", that the melodies,
rhythms and harmonies which we hear when we are young imprint
themselves on our minds, determining not only our life-long
musical tastes but contributing also to the structure of our
personalities. The same phenomenon, I believe applies even
more conclusively to our learning of language and hence to
the processes of thought. Finally, if I understand correctly,
assimilation, modification of my mind by my physical and
intellectual "environment" is the key to epistemology,
explaining what knowledge "is" and how knowledge is acquired.

That your lymphocyte count hasn't changed is, of course, very
good news. Your health is much on my mind. Please keep me
informed.

Jochen