The result of haste, tiredness are pretty evident in the above [redundant Hebrew letters]. Writing this in kitchen. Susannah has just gone upstairs after grabbing pastilles to take upstairs to Philip and Maxie (“Firmassy”).
Have had the builders in. They have knocked down the wall separating the lounge from the dining room, made serving hatch in kitchen, laid down concrete path. The electrician has put in a porch lamp. Am trying to keep the chassenna [=bill?] down to £300, for which we will have the lounge dining room, hall, staircase and landing re-painted and re-papered, and shelves put up in the two mrooms – in addition to the other work mentioned, But we could easily spend anotherm£500 in getting the exterior and the top floor done properly. Meanwhile, we are confined to the kitchen; the TV is in our bedroom.
More worries about Sam. Business prospects are now grim. G.U.S. have rejected the samples he sent them; and he can’t get travellers for the UK, English trade. This leaves only kenya and Uganda exports.
Went with Sam and Lily, Mum and Edith to shool hall to see Yiddish play in aid of Hebrew classes. The usual simple Grand Palais stuff – phrases like gehaktene tsuriss [“chopped troubles”] brought out with great deliberation to give full effect to their flavour.
I had developed tummy ache, anyway, so wasn’t particularly appreciative; the rush, the tumult with the kids (7.30 curfew enforced in spite of tearful protests from Philip). Phoned Mum to ask her how she had enjoyed it. Had I let her know it was a play she would have given me £5 and told me to get the best seats (I paid 5 x 10/- for tickets, plus 2 x 2/6 for programmes, plus 10/- baby-sitting – £3-5-0).
Ah well, E. is about to give me dinner while the kids, bless ’em, are watching T.V. in comparative peace. Then some bookkeeping – it looks as if there won’t be much more for me to do – see that lunch is ready (I’ve been having Energen rusks – tasteless, hard-boiled egg, cheese – which E. says is responsible for my tummy-ache) polish my shoes, perhaps time for a little read.
This is not life with a capital lammed, but there are millions who would envy me. And – repeat – you are healthy, you have a healthy wife and three healthy children. Repeat, repeat, say again.
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Joseph Witriol's Writings 