Monday, June 23:
On all these days I have not managed to write in my diary. Much occupied with the children, and every afternoon in our house and garden, which already gives us great pleasure. Nothing much from outside. R. works on his score. We conclude Ardinghello with diminishing interest, which R. ascribes to the fact that Heinse had seen things with his own eyes as far as Rome, whereas from then on it was all invented, since he did not go to Naples.
Great heat, followed always by thunderstorms. Many purchases for the house and many worries over the theater. I am reading Renan’s Saint Paul with interest. The fine gesture of the Swiss, making their feelings known through a large meeting of confederates against Rome.
Hans sends me back some papers from Munich; melancholy sorting of these old papers; rented an apartment for Malwida Meysenbug. Pleasure in the prospect of one day moving into our house and being shut off from the world, which only brings us sad tidings through all its organs, newspapers, fashions, art institutions.
R. is still occupied with the Celts. Great joy in Fidi in his big gardening hat and white shirt: in the garden with his ax he reminds us of Dürer’s laboring angels (in the story of Mary).