That dentist was killed by his own wife – hacked nine times with a meat ax. An act of jealousy. Life is running high even here and now.
(…or else the investigation was done by the gold-seeking killer's pal…)
Lenic, to my request, made a drawing of an oil lamp do-it-yourself chimney receptacle. For which project you can use tin from any canned food. I was beyond myself with gratitude and shook his hand two times. He left and I went on with the rendering from Azimov.
Lunch. One page. "Sea Battle" with Roozahna and Sahtik.
A nice snowfall of magnificent fluffy flakes soft, and meek, and blurring, made me take the kids for a walk.
On coming back I was sent to the Underground to stop rat holes in the compartment my family recently moved to. Practically, sealing the holes up would make the place more habitable. Politically, it'll consolidate the rights of the immigrant family to their places in the room.
Yoga. Supper.
When I saw them to the Underground, the mother-in-law suggested me to take home from there a baby high chair belonging to no one. It was discovered when in preparation for the exodus from the previous compartment, she took down the rags screening off the realm of dust.
I defied outright. (Ahshaut has a chair of that very make.)
Today's water-walk got snowed in. The drifts are too deep to slog through far enough. Anyway, the flask I brought yesterday remains intact (three pails) so I am enjoying a night off.
There was a separate explosion at three pm and till now (twenty to ten pm) calm reigns outdoors.
Wishes of a good night to all, both out- and insiders.
December 25
The night was quite calm. Only in the morning there started an artillery duel making people keep to the shelters.
Till ten am, when the banging stopped, I was working at the oil lamp sconce following the blue-print by Lenic. Then I went over to the Underground and took Ahshaut for a walk. (Roozahna had been taken by her aunt.)
Lunch.
One page.
The mother-in-law left us on our own, so (with Ahshaut on his sleep) it was a scheduled and matter-of-routine one made somewhat flat by the predestinatedness of delectabilities. The sweat smell of our bodies had a depressing effect on me at the initial stages, nonetheless, we managed to get into our stride, then classical full swing was reached and, in due course, the swoony coda.
Yoga. Supper.
Sahtik and the children have been seen over to the Underground. The mother-in-law is still here baking breads. I am going out for the water-walk.
