Tuesday, August 13:
R. dreamed that Hans was with us and that I told him I had typhus, but it did not matter.
Yesterday we read in a newspaper that Hans intended to conduct a concert in Munich on behalf of Bayreuth, and this is confirmed by Marie Muchanoff.
R. works on his essay; I in the garden with the children. In the afternoon a visit from the von Hagen family. The son, a student of philosophy, had requested the journey to Bayreuth as a birthday present. Music is played: the third act of Götterdämmerung up to Gutrune’s entrance. Utterly splendid, and as a whole new even to me.
In the evening went for a walk by moonlight; a sad difference of opinion between R. and me, “the stupidest thing that can happen.” Having read in the newspaper about a man who had celebrated two silver wedding anniversaries, R. talks of the possibility of our own silver wedding anniversary and says: “There would never be another celebration like it! Oh, I wish I were much younger, not just to relive past events, but to enjoy the present longer!”