Part 183: Monday, 14th February 1966, 21.30 hrs.

Six weeks since last entry. All six weeks nearer to grave. No – cowards do NOT die many times before their death; we all die once only. Philip & Susannah celebrated thier respective birthdays. The kids are in fine fettle. Susannah: I like mine daddy and mine Mummy.

Am just recovering from an abortive cold. Went to hear Frank Davis Sunday before last. He was good: entertaining, thoughtful, had done his homework – not a pompous platitudiniser, as I thought he might be. He himself apologised for the “dissipated air” which he attributed to, or followed on, he said, a meal at his favourite kosher restaurant.

I had to leave early and put myself to bed with whisky and aspros and did in fact hit the hay (ugh!) early every working night last week.

Sam surviving, il vaque à ses affaires, but I ought to get used to the idea that he may go any day. Every time I see a reference to “the remaining killers: cancer, heart disease, bronchitis” it gives me a khlip.

My own heart must be extraordinarily tough to survive some of my classes. It’s a vicious circle. I suppose if I were really on top of my job, had eight hours solid, refreshing sleep every night, could make every lesson interesting, they’d be no disciplinary problems. Ach – I can’t reproduce the sound I’m making – why waste time? Have had a haircut; now for bath (E. is at laundrette), perhaps read.

Maisie (Lily’s sister) is to be married to one David Wray. Sam was the shadchan [matchmaker].She is fiftyish….Sam says he did it because Lily used to weep on Friday nights: poor Maisie. They are to be married March 27th.

Pirates of Penzance [school production] over, T.G. (purely a conventional expression of relief, H.L., [Baudelaire’s hypocrite lecteur] implying no theological commitment whatsoever). About 5-6 Saturdays from 7-10, one Saturday from 2-10, and one from 7-11. However, we discharged our obligations – c’est tout.

Part 168: Monday, 16th August 1965, 9.30 p.m.

Mr Winegarten died to-day. A merciful release, I suppose. This was his second or third stroke, and he had been non compos for some time. Mike Horn also died, the other day. Sam found out purely by chance. There is to be an inquest. Golda says she blames herself; they had been living apart. Still, I feel certain that Golda would not have left him had he been livable with. He was on National Assistance. Could never stay in a job. Malnutrition or suicide, I gather, is suspected – a Welfare Officer had to break in.

Edith had her “op” to-day – all her friends write about her “op”, which I find a little irritating. I don’t know why – since I am constantly pointing out that languages develop along the path of abbreviation – phone, plane,cab,bus, etc. Everything all right. Aunt Debbie left about an hour ago. Boobbe arrives to-morrow.

Sam staying at the mortuary with Mr Fishman. Bang goes another one of his precious leave days, perhaps the whole week, as he says. Hope he doesn’t catch a cold at the mortuary, khatch.

E doing very well at the hospital, [Finchley Memorial] situated, me zoll es nisht bedurrfen, [Yiddish = I don’t need it] in beautiful grounds. Television room, garden. Am coping here. Aunt Debby a bit of a trail with her Vot’s de matter mit you to the kids, but nebbich [Yiddish = unfortunately] her life, also on her own, is not all honey, and I’d be a lot worse off without her.