I’m not sick as such, but I am a little out of sorts. My lungs are playing up a bit – it’s nothing, though: I’ve already been treated twice and I'm feeling better. But as for my nerves, they are utterly shot. Utterly. I’m not sleeping, and my mood is so heavy! I’m trying not to let it show to my nearest and dearest, but, really, how can you keep it hidden?
All is not well with Russia – very much not well!
Everything is in chaos. I feel absolutely exhausted - as if the only thing left is to retire.
It’s nice here. It is so beautiful that you feel ashamed when thinking about what life must be like with you all now.
Miraculous sea, fantastic park. There is no better place, really. Silence and simplicity.
I know you are crazily busy, but I beg you: I have heard on good authority that if our son applies for a medical degree he will be freed from the draft, so please try to sort this out. I’m still stuck in St Petersburg, my sojourn in part extended by the wonderful tropical weather. See more
It’s sweltering. Everything has gone green, myself included. Palms have popped up along the boulevards; baobabs, belfries and even factory chimneys are positivity yearning up towards the sky, spreading shoots out in all directions. I am not blossoming much myself, but I’m as tired as a workhorse.
Do not get too carried away, do not allow yourself to succumb to naive optimism and warn others against this disease. The situation is very difficult and dangerous. Take cake of your son; his strength will still be needed by this country. We won’t soon get over this chaos of destruction and construction, this fever of passions and illusions. Be healthy, consider everything in a calm manner, work, work!
Soldiers fraternize with the public and the mood, in general, is improving. It is difficult to understand how all this will end. Take care of our son.