so Peter will have to get to work reupholstering it; not surprisingly, he isn’t at all in the mood.
Mr. Kleiman also brought some flea powder for the cats. Have I told you that our Boche has disappeared?
We haven’t seen hide nor hair of her since last Thursday.
She’s probably already in cat heaven, while some animal lover has turned her into a tasty dish.
Perhaps some girl who can afford it will be wearing a cap made of Boche’s fur. Peter is heartbroken.
For the last two weeks we’ve been eating lunch at eleven-thirty on Saturdays;
in the mornings we have to make do with a cup of hot cereal.
Starting tomorrow it’ll be like this every day; that saves us a meal. Vegetables are still very hard to come by.
This afternoon we had rotten boiled lettuce. Ordinary lettuce, spinach and boiled lettuce, that’s all there is.
Add to that rotten potatoes, and you have a meal fit for a king!
I hadn’t had my period for more than two months, but it finally started last Sunday.
Despite the mess and bother, I’m glad it hasn’t deserted me.
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