Where should I begin this evening? Perhaps I ought to mention that sometime between yesterday and this morning I got over my grippe entirely. And that today was my first official day as secretary. I still can’t help feeling slightly ridiculous each time I write down, I am secretary of Kibbutz Granot. Although I missed the general meeting last night that elected me almost unanimously, it wasn’t just my fever that kept me from putting on a coat, making an appearance, and saying quite simply, Comrades, I’m truly sorry, I’ve thought the whole thing over and come to ask you to withdraw my candidacy. I’m not the right man for the office.

Well, now that the position is mine, I’ll have to stick it out and try to do my modest best. At the moment Hava Lifshitz is asleep here—in the next room, of course. She’s been sedated by the doctor, and I shall have to look after her, as I will look after the whole kibbutz. How strange to think of a woman in my bed! Just writing it makes me want to stifle a laugh, like a schoolboy. Someone might get ideas. I, of course, shall sleep on a mattress in this room. I’ve arranged for our nurse, Rachel Stutchnik, to sleep at Yolek’s place. The doctor is worried by his EKG and his blood pressure, but Yolek is still adamant about not going to the hospital. Tomorrow it will have to be decided whether he must be taken there against his will. Will have to be decided? What a shock to weigh those words. After all, the responsibility is now mine. Tomorrow I shall drag him to the hospital whether he likes it or not.

What a confused, troublesome turn of events, not to say what a wildly grotesque one. But in point of fact, most situations seem grotesque to me, whereas nothing ever seems fantastic. Anything, I’m convinced, is possible. There is nothing human beings are incapable of.

Perhaps if I try to write it all down as it happened, something may yet become clear to me. I’ll try, as usual, to be as straightforward as possible.