Across from us is a houseboat. The captain lives there with his wife and children.
He has a small yapping dog. We know the little dog only by its bark and by its tail, which we can see whenever it runs around the deck.
Oh, what a shame, it's just started raining and most of the people are hidden under their umbrellas.
All I can see are raincoats, and now and again the back of a stocking-capped head.
Actually, I don't even need to look. By now I can recognize the women at a glance:
gone to fat from eating potatoes, dressed in a red or green coat and worn-out shoes,
a shopping bag dangling from their arms, with faces that are either grim or good-humored, depending on the mood of their husbands. Yours, Anne
TUESDAY, DECEMBER 22, 1942
Dearest Kitty, The Annex was delighted to hear that we'll all be receiving an extra quarter pound of butter for Christmas.
According to the newspaper, everyone is entitled to half a pound,
but they mean those lucky souls who get their ration books from the government,
not Jews in hiding like us who can only afford to buy four rather than eight ration books on the black market.
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