My chat with Elsie was not unpleasant - it's just that she thinks that I disapprove of their grooming Kueken for a Christmas threesome and that I act funny because of that. Well, maybe I do act funny, but otherwise I have no problems with whatever they do. What attentive readers have signaled to me long ago seems true, namely that Elsie thinks Kueken is not a very strong character and easily controlled, and so no danger to her relationship.

Why should I have told her that she is totally wrong - that women with strong characters (Angelika for example) are no danger because they are likely to act reasonably, while Kueken is unpredictable and might react in all kinds of funny ways? What must happen, will happen ...

In town I met Ruth, the late professor's wife as some may remember, and she seems quite happy. She got into some closer contact with a former colleague of her husband's and they spend a lot of time together. Just that he isn't so sexually active anymore, even under Viagra, but they have the same interests and are planning to travel next year. And when she can't be without, she has a one-night stand with a lover - there were so many men with oedipal desires, according to Ruth, one would not believe it. We'll meet after Christmas to tell each other everything about our lives ...

And finally: TOMORROW AT THIS TIME, PHILLIP WILL BE HERE !!!

Two more days and Phillip will be here. My mind is calm, but my body isn't. I had to sooth it with my powervibby last thing I did before sleep yesterday and first thing this morning. And yet as I am writing these words my breathing accelerates, and so does my heart rate, and my inside is like a burning fire that is eating me up from within.

I am meeting Elsie in the late afternoon and have some coffee with her. We certainly have to talk. I am quite glad to have received comments and messages from my readers who give me some outside view on my situation; this helps me get some distance and not show too much personal disappointment. What Elsie certainly needs is to get her feet back on the ground and Joerg should be fully part of the whole deal, too. I'd like to clear this before Phillip is here and not put it off until the new year.

No Jacuzzi tonight - there are so many things going on before Christmas, dinners and meetings, markets and concerts. Elsie and Kueken have their annual Christmas dinner at school and they don't want to miss; being in the home economics trade, they even contribute to it by preparing some snacks for starters. It's kind of a pity - it was such a wonderful winter's day. There is now snow on the mountains, but it was sunny all day and very cold, and tonight there will be a clear sky full of bright stars - perfect for a hot tub in the open. I am quite busy too, though, and I'll take the chance to correct some English tests so that I'll have finished by the weekend.

Kueken will spend Christmas with Elsie and Joerg, and it seems that this is when the chicken will be roasted - so to speak. That's the plan anyway, said Elsie on the phone. And she sounded as if they had to make do with Kueken because I was such a bore and kept my knees closed to their spree of sexual experiments. I'll have to speak a few words to this fine lady it seems, but not on the phone, so I've put this off to some other time soon.

I have heard over the years that there are many who regularly have sex for nostangic reasons and for old times' sake with people who have been important to them at one time in their past. They meet once a year, or even more seldom, often acidentally, and then share their memories, and this evokes some common, mutual feelings - and then it happens, and there is neither any meaning in this nor is it damaging to their present relationships - it's just an isolated void in time full of ancient, still surprisingly tangible feelings. So they fuck, or just have sex, and some even make love.

It's the same with me and Leon, my old friend from University. All year long I hardly ever think of him, and then we meet somewhere and my heart starts racing. And before he goes back for another year to his well-organized life with his well-organized wife, we do it. And surprisingly it seems to both of us that we make love. It's a strange love, though, an impossible one - but it can obviously be rekindled for an hour, and then go into hibernation again.

We still have this habit of doing it in unusual places, preferably in the open. And that's why after brunch last Sunday we both very much felt like going for a walk. We went up this steep hill called Hoernli which is outside Zurich on the way to my place, and it happened there, standing upright, leaning against a pile of wood and looking over the greyish late autunm landscape.

As usual we did it slowly, but firmly. I am always amazed, how well a body can remember. Because of the disaster last time, I had taken off my panties before leaving Beatrix's house and stuffed them into my bag, so all was ready and unobstructed when the moment of moments came. And it did come - and it lasted and lasted - and then it left us again.

Then he took me home in his car, and we talked very little, because this is not the past any longer - and in the present we are almost strangers.

Beatrix and I had a walk through Zürich in the late afternoon and bought this and that - some clothes and knick-knacks for Christmas and some food and drinks now and then. There was a children's choir singing somewhere in the center and the lights - well they are quite artsy and modern, but cold and without any inspiration. Appropriate lights for the center of wealth and money, one might think.

On Saturday evening I went out alone. Beatrix had recommended me the West of Zürich, a former industrial area which has been redeveloped and is now brimming with life. But I was not in the mood, or maybe I feel the first aspects of a development with which many women who grow older are familiar with, namely that you start to become invisible. This means that no heads turn anymore when you enter, no appraising looks and noone who recognizes you as a possible sexual partner and dispenses the usual pheromones. So I was pretty invisible among the pretty self-centered in-crowds, and noone noticed when I left.

That was the piano part; it became more accellerando on Sunday because we had visitors for brunch: some old friends from university, among them Leon.

Without doing any work for school all over the weekend, I am more than busy catching up. That's why there is only time for a mini-blog. I had a lovely weekend, which started rather piano and came to an unexpectected accelerando and fortissimo last night. There is still some music left in my head and under my skin. But more of it when I come up for breath. By the way: this time next week, I won't be alone anymore - Phillip will be back by Sunday afternoon.

What I didn't mention is that my new neighbours came over one evening to present themselves. They had actually wanted to move into a detached house somewhere, but they didn't find one which was on sale and not too expensive, and because they had to move out of their old place, they rented this old flat at a very low price, so that they could save up some more. But they made sure that they didn't plan to stay here longer than necessary.

They are a couple in their early thirties. He, Armin, is a graphic designer and looks quite relaxed and artsy, and she, Helene, is looking for job somewhere in an office after she hasn't worked for some time. The reason for this is her son Oliver, a funny little imp of seven, who has recently started school and seems to be pretty pampered and spoilt. They appear to be quite easy-going people and we became friendly straight away - I don't know if they will ever be as reliable as the Schneiders and look after my house when I am away, but at least they might be good neighbours who won't complain about peanuts.

What I have not mentioned, either, is that I will travel to Zürich for the weekend to do some shopping and look at the Christmas lights in the Bahnhofstrasse, although they are new now and by far not as pretty and romantic as before. I already wanted to go last weekend, but then Maria came to see me. The only drawback is that on Saturday night Beatrix and her husband are invited to a party and their daughters will sleep over with a friend, so I'll have to spend the evening in their home or then go out alone - something which I have not done for a long time and which reminds me very much of the good old days. I haven't decided yet, but why not see what the city can offer me nowadays?

In German we have the saying that someone feels like "the fifth wheel on the cart" to describe the feeling that he is not wanted or does not fit into a set group of people. Well, last night I felt like the fourth wheel - but on an threewheeler.

Jacuzzi was warm and relaxing, but still I didn't feel very much at ease. There were Elsie and Joerg, and between them Kueken, who appeared to be childishly excited - she was giggling ostentatiously about every touch and body contact, of which there obviously were many. I was the one sitting opposite - for reasons before mentioned in my bikini panties - dressed up among nudes, so to speak. (Long gone the times I was sitting between them and their knowing hands were soothing me.)

I was glad that Elsie remembered that we usually toweled each other down after leaving the tub, so I didn't have to do it all by myself. Standing around the fire I saw that Kueken is sporting the same pubic coiffure like Elsie - she is smoothly shaved. She does look appetizing with her round apple ass and her juicy half melon boobs - a fruit cocktail which is obviously ready to be eaten.

In a quiet moment I asked Elsie if Kueken is a virgin, and to my relief I heard she isn't, as she had a boy-fried for some times and said herself that she is missing "it". I went home rather soon.

Yes. Gio, you are right - Elsie is a grown woman and she must be able to handle her sexuality herself, as well as possible consequences. Maybe I have acted as the alarm clock who awakened her - but can you make the clock resposible for a bad day that follows? (If I come to think of it: I sometimes did).

It is funny, though, how much the fate of my friend seems to interest and even agitate some of my most faithful readers. Thus someone started a message which he sent to me today with the words: "Dear Elsie". Who would have thought it would come that far? (LOL) Still, I am looking forward to Jacuzzi tonight - I feel all tensed up since I was ill - and menstruation doesn't make life easier, either - so I'll certainly enjoy sitting with them and relaxing in the soothing water.

What makes me think right now is where to go on holidays after Christmas. One suggestion is going to Guadaloupe on the traces of Angelika's mother's family. Angelika would come along and we'd be a nice little family - father, mother and daughter. An alternative is Egypt, just Phillip and me, though we don't know if it's too late to find some good prearranged tour. I was never there, but when I am honest, I don't feel so much like looking at museums and ancient sites all day - I would opt for the Red Sea or the Canary Island - just relaxing and having time to ourselves. We'll see.

Or do you have a good idea where to go for two weeks after Christmas?

"Do you not think that Elsie is grooming Kueken for Joerg? When you mentioned she was at their house last Sunday lying with her head in Elsie's lap I did wonder, after last night my suspicions are reinforced", is what a very good friend and attentive reader wrote in his message some days ago. I had not expected anything like this, but the thought didn't get out of my mind in the last few days. I had told them of Traudl, the Elf, and our threesome then, and Joerg had always been very interested in everything I told and he had had questions over questions.

So this afternoon when I went over to Elsie for coffee and some Lebkuchen, which is a special Santa Claus cake, I told her of my (my reader's !!) suspicion. And to my great surprise she confirmed it straightaway: Inspired by Philip's and my Elf-escapade, they are about to educate Kueken to be their third party. But it is not Elsie alone who is following this plan, they are scheming together and seem to derive a lot of pleasure from this secretive activity.

There was quite a strange gleam in Elsie's eyes when she told me all this, and I have started to wonder if I have not helped them conjure up ghosts which grow harder and harder to control.