I started responding, then hesitated, then realized I may be too something or other, then realized that it was not just over a woman, but that I am still in love with her, but as she was, and, being unable to go back in time thirty years, that there is no solution but never to see him, thus not remember her. But here I go again! Poot! This is what I had written: Good question. Suppose one of the crossbeams went out askew on the treadle when there was trouble at the mill. Seems as good an answer as any. Also, one of his girlfriends would probably have neen the love of my life, were it not for him. Delicious red haired Jewish American Princess with green eyes and the sweetest pinkest skin all over, who jiggled and wiggled and giggled just perfectly, but not improperly, and was discreet about the times she snd I accidentally met & intermeshed, in the hours after he left for work yet before she left for college. She was purportedly his fiancée, so I did not think to linger longer or more often; and when I did not see her did not miss her until I had left for some mystical matter in the desert, and they broke up. Even then, I did not realize how much I adored her, how precious she was, how refreshingly honest and alive. She is sort of my Rosie Cotton; but the Shire is long gone; and there is no coming back from the end of all things. We never fought over her; but I will never not