After the lunch Roozahna's aunt came to take her to her grandparents' place.
From the Underground I brought home our old heater in need of repair. I fixed it but couldn't check up – no live mains around.
Yoga. Supper. Water bringing.
When it got dark in the room I made a Ukrainian folk device – plaushquah to do for the lighting. You pour some vegetable oil in a saucer and insert the wicker of tightly twisted cotton wool from the oil pool in the middle up to the saucer brim . The upturned tip of the wicker burns with a sooty flame.
It was my mother-in-law's turn to get her goat. Vegetable oil running to waste! Yet, not a sound from her pouted lips.
It's ten past nine pm. Starry night outdoors.
Good night, by the way.
December 5
Yesterday at eleven pm the electricity came in. I checked the heater. It worked all right and I took it over to the Underground.
And this night's bombardment did wake me up.
In the morning I went to the Site and brought a sack of firewood and some tools to tinker up a tin woodburner. Aram, my brother-in-law, generously allowed me to pick up the remnants of a household electric oven made in Germany about 20 years ago and now kicking about in a junk heap in the corner of his mother's yard.
All I had to do to accomplish the project was adding two more holes to the rusty oven box. One at the bottom of its door to let the air flow in and the other on the box top at the opposite end for fixing the smoke pipe.
The conversion took all of the day with a break for lunch with Sashic and Carina on a visit with their children.
Manufacturing of this quick-and-dirty woodburner left no time for Joyce but the contraption works OK. I installed it side by side with the presently mum gas heater.
At the final stage—adjusting smoke pipes to the burner and out through the window—Armo, the landlord, lent a helping hand.
It's ten pm. I'm alone. The household noise of machine-guns outdoors. Eager squeaks and galloping of mice under the floorboards.
Good night to all.
December 6
Twenty-four hours without the electricity but with a good deal of shelling instead.
Eeooouuaa! Right now the gas has come in! Unbelievable!
But let's keep to order in this here chronicle.
It was a standard working day, yet the daily won't see tomorrow—the release was canceled as the Printing House workers downed their tools and went home. The wages dispute has not been settled yet.
Yoga. Supper. Water. ULYSSES translation.
