Monday, March 1:
Snow flurries, “winter tempests”; yesterday Mount Pilatus dispatched a little avalanche, and today the whole country is covered with snow, the skies gray, the water a dirty green. Now winter is overtaking us. R., however, is busy on his work; may Heaven bless him!
Richard says jokingly at lunch that, if he ever completes the Nibelungen, I shall deserve an order pour le mérite. After lunch the children again misbehave; it is difficult to combine bringing up children with an artistic life, but I am determined to succeed.
R. also explains why he was so angry the day before: he had been making music for me, through me, and with me, the disturbance caused by the child had caught him at a most sensitive moment, and the fact that, in order not to disturb him, I had intended to detach myself from him together with the child had upset him completely, since it showed I had not understood how he was producing these tones in conjunction with me.
At lunch he said he believed we would master our fate. I, on the other hand, am conscious of all sorts of trials ahead which I shall have to face, but I can await them calmly as long as my children’s hearts are with me. Spent the evening conversing with R.