The elderly father-in-law, he who ignored the suppurating sore on his Achilles tendon, has been enduring much these past weeks. The original amputation below the knee did not deter the aggressive staph infection; nor did a subsequent trim of the leg to just short of the knee. The doctors have now concluded that what we're dealing with is the dreaded "flesh-eating bacteria" (apparently a painful way to die), and the f-i-l has just endured his third or fourth operation in ten days, this time severing the leg not far south of the crotch. His daughter, my wife, has been in the southland for most of this month holding things together. "I'm the right tool for the job," she said in a phone conversation this afternoon, "but I've got to warn you that once this is over I'm going to collapse."

cordially,