Holy shit!! Just this moment I've stumbled on the fact that for about twenty days I have been calling this month with the previous one's name. So, actually, it is -
Dreams also are full of war. This night
... ten-year-old pupils from the fourth grade of Hndzristan Village School were keeping the front-line against vermacht troops ...
Morning at the Club.
Alia described how her five year old boy didn't want to understand that one piece of bread is enough for one person.
Araic related about their training squad. They have only two guns for forty would-be phedayees PHEDAYEE —
(Armenian borrowing from Greek) "freedom fighter". and no maps of this country. For classes of map-reading they use an odd map of somewhat Belorussian region in it.
Rita asked me for a book to read. She'd rather have a love story.
After lunch I served as a hand to Arto in the projected woodburner production.
However, perforation of the basement wall was mainly my concern.
Combined efforts of the skilled (Arto) and unskilled (me) workforce the woodburner got duly produced and installed.
Arto furnished the pipe-passage with a wooden frame and partly glassed it leaving a gap for the pipe.
Now they don't have to use an oillamp in the daytime down there.
Presently, the number of shelterers in this Underground is estimated at about three hundred people. May easily be so.
They dwell in segregated compartments. Just like in ancient Sparta – barracks for males and barracks for females with kids.
The water-walk was stupendously short today; when passing the neighbor quarter—the starting leg in my long and winding rout to the far off water-head—I found there was no queue at their street water-hose.
So, let's call it a day and wish
good night to all good, and evil, and those in-between ones.