January 31

Severe bombardments all day long. They say the Azeri president declared 'ghazavat'—the holy war—on this self-proclaimed Republic. So Sahtik with the kids and my mother-in-law kept to the Underground all day.

In the morning I went to the barber's to have my hair cut. From there I came to the Club but at 11 am was strongly recommended to leave.

At a news-stand in Kirov Street I bought nine ball-pens of the cheapest sort — one monet each.

At home I was called over to the Underground to dismantle Ahshaut's cot and take it out of there to make more room for the room's population. From now on he is to sleep there in one bed with Sahtik.

Then I took breads to the Carina's and the Orliana's, respectively.

When back home again I tinkered at one more contrivance in the way of a handcart.

No Yoga (I'm still unwell). No Joyce.

The home made oillamp needs improving – the wick tractor would pack up at times.

One more visit to the Underground and the water-walk are ahead.

The shelling goes on, unceasingly and unilaterally.

No answering from this side except for my "Good night".