I apologize to your near-sighted, narrowminded jughead relative for any slight out fair city may have handed hi while he was in basic training, Rapaire.

As for mildew, you have it all wrong. We are essentially a desert environment blessed with sweet mists from the sea in early mornings and modern plumbing and irrigatijon, with stout mountains to the east, and lovely sea-currents running along our western borders. Mildew is for more tropical climes.

The flood was handled rapidly -- four days of dehumidifiers and giant blowers running day and night left the house as crisp as a zwieback. Now we have to figure out how to get it all put back together. Thank god for insurance, is all I can say.

I haven't had much spare time the last week. I have been hammering out guides to the care and use of fancy polyphonic receivers used in detecting underground pipes, wires and the like, eleven hours a day; in the evenings I have succeeded in finishing the base course and footer-layer of the wall that will be blending in with my waterfall when all is done. My hands are covered with stonedust and flecks of mortar. I ache like an octogenarian acrobat in a Massachusetts old-folks home in November. But the stones are slowly learning to go where I send them.

ANyway, as you can see I have made the error of letting too much reality slip into my timeline and will have to get some BS exchangers to re-balance the ficton load in my immediate vicinity. Forgive my apparent reticence; I could not love thee half so much, dear Mother, loved I not honor more.

A