Himself is agonizing less about legal theory, now that he has written two assignments and feels more competent. For a week at the beginning of the term he wept and moaned over this obligatory course while I reminded him, heartlessly, that this intellectual Sturm und Drang is his own fault, since he apparently feels compelled to pile it higher and deeper. "But I have practised law for THIRTY WHOLE YEARS without the slightest idea of legal positivism!" he howled. Tough, said I, and pointed out that I endured both philosophy of history and historiography -- at the relatively early age of 25! -- and lived to tell the tale.

It's raining in Stratford, and so overcast that every light in the house is blazing or we can barely see each other. Consequently, nothing of consequence will get done outside, and not much inside. We did a light purge of the library over the weekend in aid of the annual town book sale and to ease up the pressure on our crammed shelves, and yesterday I packed up the rejects and delivered them to the old factory where the sale will be held next week. Now all I have to do is keep Himself away from the sale and we're golden! For a few months, anyway.