Dear Mr. and Mrs. Veneering

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Veneering,

We haven't met, but Our Mutual Friend, Dickens, told me:

"Mr and Mrs Veneering were bran-new people in a bran-new house in a bran-new quarter of London. Everything about the Veneerings was spick and span new. All their furniture was new, all their friends were new, all their servants were new, their plate was new, their carriage was new, their harness was new, their horses were new, their pictures were new, they themselves were new, they were as newly married as was lawfully compatible with their having a bran-new baby, and if they had set up a great-grandfather, he would have come home in matting from the Pantechnicon, without a scratch upon him, French polished to the crown of his head.

"For, in the Veneering establishment, from the hall-chairs with the new coat of arms, to the grand pianoforte with the new action, and upstairs again to the new fire-escape, all things were in a state of high varnish and polish. And what was observable in the furniture, was observable in the Veneerings—the surface smelt a little too much of the workshop and was a trifle sticky." I, on the other hand, smell a little too much of mold, I fear, and am a trifle dried out.

I'm not sure why this description of you gathered up my attention so, though partly it is Charles' way with words--"a French polished great-grandfather", indeed. But partly it is because I struggle with this world we live in that seems to be too new and too renewed. I can't absorb all the revisions. I was just getting used "World 6.0" when "World 7.0" was released. And then before I got that installed in my brain, there was a patch and it was time for "World 7.1" I am trying to live with my mind open to change, but the newness of things all the time leaves me with the sense that life isn't authenticate, just a laminate.

Regards to all of our mutual acquaintances.

Betsy DeGeorge