monday, august 23, 1943
wenn die uhr halb neune scat . . .* [* when the clock strikes half past eight.]
margot and mother are nervous. "shh . . . father. be quiet, otto. shh . . . pim! it''s eight-thirty.
the door opens upstairs at eight-twenty, and this is followed by three gentle taps on the floor. . . anne''s hot cereal. i mber up the stairs to get my doggie dish.
back downstairs, everything has to be done quickly, quickly: ib my hair, put away the potty, shove the bed back in ce. quiet! the clock is striking eight-thirty! mrs. van d. changes shoes and shuffles through the room in her slippers; mr. van d. too -- a veritable charlie chaplin. all is quiet.
the ideal family scene has now reached its high point. i want to read or study and margot does too. father and mother ditto. father is sitting (with dickens and the dictionary, of course) on the edge of the sagging, squeaky bed, which doesn''t even have a decent mattress. two bolsters can be piled on top of each other. "i don''t need these," he thinks. "i can manage without them!"
once he starts reading, he doesn''t look up. heughs now and then and tries to get mother to read a story.
"i don''t have the time right now!"
he looks disappointed, but then continues to read.
a little whileter, when hees across another good passage, he tries again: "you have to read this, mother!"
mother sits on the folding bed, either reading, sewing, knitting or studying, whichever is next on her list. an idea suddenly urs to her, and she quickly says, so as not to forget, "anne, remember to . . . margot, jot this down. . . "
after a while it''s quiet again. margot ms her book shut; father knits his forehead, his eyebrows forming a funny curve and his wrinkle of concentration reappearing i at the back of his head, and he buries himself in his book 1 again; mother starts chatting with margot; and i get curious and listen too. pim is drawn into the conversation . . . nine o''clock. breakfast!
wenn die uhr halb neune scat . . .* [* when the clock strikes half past eight.]
margot and mother are nervous. "shh . . . father. be quiet, otto. shh . . . pim! it''s eight-thirty.
the door opens upstairs at eight-twenty, and this is followed by three gentle taps on the floor. . . anne''s hot cereal. i mber up the stairs to get my doggie dish.
back downstairs, everything has to be done quickly, quickly: ib my hair, put away the potty, shove the bed back in ce. quiet! the clock is striking eight-thirty! mrs. van d. changes shoes and shuffles through the room in her slippers; mr. van d. too -- a veritable charlie chaplin. all is quiet.
the ideal family scene has now reached its high point. i want to read or study and margot does too. father and mother ditto. father is sitting (with dickens and the dictionary, of course) on the edge of the sagging, squeaky bed, which doesn''t even have a decent mattress. two bolsters can be piled on top of each other. "i don''t need these," he thinks. "i can manage without them!"
once he starts reading, he doesn''t look up. heughs now and then and tries to get mother to read a story.
"i don''t have the time right now!"
he looks disappointed, but then continues to read.
a little whileter, when hees across another good passage, he tries again: "you have to read this, mother!"
mother sits on the folding bed, either reading, sewing, knitting or studying, whichever is next on her list. an idea suddenly urs to her, and she quickly says, so as not to forget, "anne, remember to . . . margot, jot this down. . . "
after a while it''s quiet again. margot ms her book shut; father knits his forehead, his eyebrows forming a funny curve and his wrinkle of concentration reappearing i at the back of his head, and he buries himself in his book 1 again; mother starts chatting with margot; and i get curious and listen too. pim is drawn into the conversation . . . nine o''clock. breakfast!