Dear Cyndy,

Thank you very much for your letter. My fervent wishes:
that there should be no further falls in your future, and
if my wish is frustrated, that their consequences should be
transient and benign.  The issue as to what might, could, or
should happen when husband predeceases wife or vice versa,
is so difficult and so fraught with sadness, that I feel
incapable of addressing it, except to note that as we get
older it's not only our physical and mental strength which
decline, but with them our capacity for suffering as well.
I have vivid memories of the days twenty-five years ago,
after my father had died, how limited the suffering which
her loss, notwithstanding their closeness, inflicted on my
mother. Important, I think, is not to be afraid.

The correspondence which I forwarded to you, with Mr. Peluso,
and more significant, with my cousin, will give you some hint of
what has been on my mind. I'm confident that I have sufficiently
unravelled the knotty issues of fluid dynamics. My task now,
which I'm not sure I can accomplish, is to keep my understanding
to myself, inasmuch as disclosure would be counter-productive.
The plumber/engineers who constitute the Plumbing Board would 
not be able to contemplate that they really don't understand
the flowing of water, just as the Honorable Judges cannot confront
the fundamental absurdity and irrationality that they do not 
understand justice. "Father forgive them, for they know not what
they do."

Thank you for your invitation to the memorial service for Morty
on July 22. I'm not sure how well Margaret could manage on such
an occasion and I will defer the decision as to whether we will come
until I know whether at the time we'll be in Massachusetts or in
Virginia.

The sun is shining and the lawn is finally dry. As soon as I finish
my letter, I'll drive the minivan containing the toilet which I
bought at Lowe's three days ago, up to the front door, saving me
the flight of stairs from the garage to the first floor. Then I'll
open the 98 lbs. carton and carry the individual pieces, the bowl, the
tank and the lid upstairs. Whether I'll still have the humor for the
installation remains to be seen.

My writing has been giving me much pleasure. Chapter 53 has grown,
albeit slowly to 11 pages. Charlotte had returned "home" to confess
to Joachim the loss of the $400 at the vitreous cooking school.
First tearfully penitent, then as is her nature truculently angry
she stalks ti her room, determined to recover the forfeited assets,
especially so as not to be indebted to the Schopenhauer Fund which
she detests and to which she wants no lingering obligation.
Having returned to the cooking school, she discovers the twenty bills,
which she had marked with identifying creases, in the hip pocket
of the admissions officer. Having extracted/recovered her money,
she is arrested for grand larceny. The judge it turns out, is the same
admissions officer who had appropriated her money. For better or for
worse, the judge finds the defendant attractive. "Honey, come up here
and sit next to me on the bench," he says to her, - an exact quote
of what many many years ago, Judge Hutton of the Washington Co. (VA)
Circuit Court said to to Dorothy Boucher, a stunningly beautiful lawyer
who was practicing in his court, - so then Charlotte sits next to the
judge on the bench, and what he whispers into her ear and the quid pro
quo between them that lead to the dismissal of all charges were not
recorded by the stenographer, and for now, I will leave to your
imagination.

I've been having a wonderful time editing "Die Andere". Last night
I completed chapter 14. Occasionally I find the text drab and boring,
but more often I can't but help admire the author - shame on me -
about whom I have sometimes been sceptical as to whether he had it
in him. My present plan is to publish this long novel as a trilogy
three volumes of about 250 pages each, the first of which might
be called "Die Reise" (The Journey), the second "Der Traum" (The Dream)
and the third ("Erwachen")

This letter was just interrupted by an hour long telephone call from
Nathaniel. I must get the toilet out of the van before the sun sets.
More later. Stay well. Don't fall.

Jochen