Having finished some work for tomorrow, I am too tired to do any more and too restless to go to sleep. So I have re-read some passages of my blog.

I am not displeased, although it's of course always just part of the whole picture. I have found emotions in my texts, sometimes they are like a verbal polaroid of how I felt then - I like that. They are contemplative, they can also be silly. And I've noticed that it's been a year soon since I started writing here. What I like: the texts are quite open and direct, and they show that I am who I am. At least I hope so. And sometimes they are even a little literary - and then I am proud and dream of being a real writer.

And all those wonderful comments and messages. "Remember I always read your blog first thing in the morning and before I go to bed", I read in a message today - it's so good to feel that what I write actually means something to some of you. Kiss you all, my friends and Alpinists.

What is not in my blog:
- How Maria and I communicate, mainly by short mails
- Leon's intimate messages from marital captivity
- That I meet Tanja for lunch once a week when she is on duty and we have time, and how we think back to our common summer weeks
- That Traudl turned up at my doorstep again
- How my drama project has started
- That an American friend who I once visited in St. Louis will come to Austria this autumn
- That I quite fancy one of the young French teachers (male)
- That one of the lesbians from the science department quite fancies me
- My nightly dreams
- My past

Ought we to become a little more interactive? Maybe you'd be interested to read about something. If yes, please add a comment and tell me.

Elsie was quite excited when I had her on the phone last night. She said she had been online for some time over the weekend and had found out there were people looking for pleasant sexual contact with consenting couples or individuals and they didn't live too far away. She'd been on a local erotic site and read all the contact offers. There was one guy who seemed alright, he was our age, appeared to be neither too primitive nor an asshole but rather cultivated and adventurous, and well-endowed in addition to it. There was also a slightly older couple who didn't seem to be swapping pros or SM addicts, with a nice, ordinary picture, and what I thought about it?

I was well aware that she counted me in, too, and that she wanted me to encourage her and help convince Joerg. Elsie, Elsie - how naughty of you. How far are you willing to go? That's what I asked her first, because there is a big chance that people who advertise their genitals are not really into erotic soft core the way we do. They'll want to fuck. So better take a friend or colleage, and encourage him to feel a little sexier and enjoy his liberty, like chubby Grisi, and you can keep deciding how far they can appraoach your cavities and Joerg theirs.

Elsie was not convinced. As a teacher I know that some things cannot be taught - you can only learn them from experience. So I advised Elsie to try and convince Joerg that it might be fun, and I'd be ready to be there, too.

"To put it very crudely, did you fuck him? I am sure he would have loved that and to be honest, I don't think that would have worried you too much", a friend of mine asks me in his message, and: No, I didn't. And yes, it would not have worried me - it never worries me when I consent to having sex, I just do it and never have something like a bad conscience. I sometimes ask myself how something I do looks - I hate people talking about me and I also dislike looking stupid. But it's never really a question of morals.

Am I being used, as OldGezzer's comment suggests? I hate being manipulated, and there is a certain chance that this is happening, you are right. On the other hand what's wrong if it is some kind of a deal? Is it so bad to be generous to someone and accept his generosity in return? Is not much of our life organized in this way? Isn't marriage like this, or is it only duty?

But what if the opposite is also true? Namely that the Editor might be rather ungenerous to those who are not generous to him? Could he take from Phillip what he gave him? Would I endager him and his career? I hope not, but I can't know for sure.

So I rather stay with the message of another friend, who writes "I can see why you like this man and if your spirit guides you that way, be generous to him". I'll follow my spirit and decide what I will do next Sunday - as I have promised to be there again when the weather is fine. I hope so much, though, that it's not the middle of an unpleasant dilemma I have got into.

The sun came out beautifully and the early autumn scenery around the lake was just breathtaking. The air was more transparent than usual, and the snowy mountains appeared closer than ever before. Not a ripple was on the water - the lake was as smooth as a mirror, over whose surface we were leisurely gliding.

We were alone on the boat, Phillip's editor and I, as I had almost expected. I wonder about the amout of time he can spend on the lake on Sunday afternoons, particularly as he is married and his wife is never there. He once said this was his sanctuary, his island of peace in a busy work week, and I think he does well to reserve some time to himself likt that.

Lunch was exquisite again, the chauffeur doubled as waiter and skipper, and later we sat under the sunshade pleasantly talking. Very soon he had said he wouldn't mind me wearing the same attire as last time, we were among ourselves anyway, and so I stripped to my black swim thongs. He was visibly pleased when he saw I was wearing his chain.

We talked a lot about my job, and about Phillip. He has a very high opinion of him and called him "promising" more than once, "a gifted man on his way up", and said he had big plans with him. I told him of my visit, the fine, though small flat in London, the heat in summer, my love of London, that I will go there in my autumn holidays. In fact I told him maybe too much, but he is a good and attentive listener and asks precise questions now and then, which show that he is more than just following the conversation.

About himself he didn't say much - what struck me as interesting was his remark that his motto has always been to be generous to those who were generous to him. This was not a modern business strategy, he knew that, but he had always been successful with it. Yes, he was a very generous man, and Phillip could benefit more than a little from it.

Once when we were standing at the reiling next to each other he put his hand on my breast and left it there for a long moment - gently, like a father would do if fathers did such things - and said with a gentle sigh that he could but agree with Oscar Wilde: Youth was the one thing worth having. I looked him right in the eyes, and I saw some wistfulness there - and then he pulled his hand back. I kissed his cheek and smiled, still holding his eyes. You know, sweet Alpina, he said and his voice was a little hoarse, you know that I am very generous to those who are generous to me ...

Yes, I understood.

What a lovely morning - because I woke up and remembered first that I had got a phone call from Phillip last night, out of the blue, and that he had asked me if I had plans for my autumn holidays, and if not, he'd love me to spend some days with him in London. Although the flat was so small, we would certainly enjoy it again, not needing much room (mmmmh, this was certainly a hint ...) and it wasn't so hot anymore as in summer when he could hardly sleep because temperatures rose to tropical dimensions. I spontaneously agreed - and so I will travel to London right after my one-week school camp in the mountains. You'll have to miss me here for two weeks then, my faithful Alpinists. My body tingles all over when I think of it right now.

Last night it was quite nice. We did some swimming and horsing around on the lawn, and I had put up some lights which make the garden look magic. But it was getting dark pretty soon already and cold, too, even too cold to be inside in the nude, so we had to dress for dinner and eat it in my kitchen. Elsie had taken along a lovely beef stew and it was just right for the chilly evening. Soon I'll make a warming fire when someone comes, but I thought it was still a little too early for that in early September.

I'm preparing some lessons for tomorrow, and soon I'll be picked up by the chauffeur to take me to the lake. A NN-friend reminded me not to forget the gold necklace and my black swimming thongs - thanks for planning my afternoon getting romantic. LOL. What I hope is that it's clearing up: The clouds still hang down lown over the mountains, but the forecast is not bad, so let's hope for the best - weatherwise ...

Some of my friends who sent me messages in the last few days warned me that the Editor's intentions might be quite improper on Sunday and that I should be careful if I was to be there all alone. I am not afraid of him, though, and he is such a cultivated man that he will never try to use force on me. Actually I quite like him, he has become some kind of a father figure for Phillip and also me. And when you think how much we owe him: when I met Phillip almost a year ago, he was a part-time critic writing about church concerts and new films. And look at him now: London correspondent - and all through the Editor's will. We have to be grateful.

I think I have mentioned here already that I am quite attracted to such father figures, maybe because I had such a strong relationship with my own late father. You may well diagnose some mild form of Oedipus complex with me, Doctor Freud. Friedrich was such a father figure, too, and maybe it is no coincidence that some rather elderly gentlemen seem to have taken to me and send me messages and comment my blogs. And I like them a lot - their experience, their wisdom, their good and thoughtful advice, and their respect. Actually, I feel attracted to them, too. Would I have sex with any of them if fate brought us together? I asked myself lately. The answer is a definite yes after having become really close - if they themselves felt this way, too.

In an hour Elsie and Joerg will come over for a swim and some dinner. I hope they will bring along large pots full of food - I am starving after hiking for three and a half hours today. But it was a great walk, beautiful scenery and lots of sunshine, so it was well worth the trouble.

After this coldest August for 50 years, according to the weather people, I enjoyed walking home from the busstop under a perfectly azzure sky today. I put down my shopping bags at once, undressed and had a dip in my pool to cool down. Then I positioned myself into a deckchair, soaking up the sun. I am a person who loves being in the light, and so I thoroughly enjoyed the sun on my skin again - while closing my eyes and thinking nothing, just enjoying the fact that there was the weekend before me. Leisurely I watched some pool water dry on my skin. Some pearls had caught in the stubble of my growing pubic hair. They were glittering like diamonds. As I moved, they melted together, became too heavy and trickled down between my legs. Life can be so good.

When the sun got down, I went in, but just put on my Leopard skin imitation thong (me Jane - you Tarzan), not more. I had some frugal meal with a glass of wine, did a little internet research for the trip tomorrow and now - well, I don't know, maybe watching some telly, or reading a little, maybe I'm christening my powervibby Tarzan and have a go through the jungle with him to watch the elefants. My body certainly craves for some attention, and why not make sure that everyone and everything gets its due share ...

I came home from school yesterday after my seven lessons between 8 am. and 5 pm. - after the structure of conditional clauses in English, the deteriorating health of the protagonist of the novel "Bis bald" and his reluctance to accept a hearttransplant, after traditional and modern myths in literature, after a survey on people and places in the British Iles, Truman Capote's "In Cold Blood" and instructions about how to write a scientific paper - and I just had a little supper and then I collapsed on my bed and slept all through the night.

Or almost. Because at nine Elsie phoned and said she, Joerg and Grisi were expecting me for jacuzzi (I said I was too tired) and then Aldo tore me out of my sleep and asked me for a date to visit the Swinger Club together (I agreed on next Friday). Tomorrow I'll go to a place in the mountains with a colleague, where we will spend a week with one of our first classes at the end of September. It's a tradition that our firstgraders have some kind of a camp a few weeks after they have come to our school, and as a teacher you have to organize such camps and to look after them 24 hours a day. Tomorrow we'll have a look at the house and walk some paths we'll go hiking on.

In the evening Elsie and Joerg will come swimming in my pool - it's going to be warmer again after this absolutely horrible and way too cold August. Fortunately the'll bring the food along. And for Sunday I have accepted the Editor's invitation to his yacht - not really knowing what this is going to be like. His chauffeur will fetch me at eleven, so I will at least travel in style.

It's not that I want to complain: I know I have the most beautiful job in the world. I don't just have to do with the sick like doctors, or with criminals like lawyers. I don't have to do with money, I neither sell something nor myself. As a teacher I have to do with healthy, ordinary, young people who are sane and very often even eager to learn. And I don't have to make them spend their money, or their parents', but can introduce them to languages and literature.

My problem this term: I just have too many students to deal with. In my six classes there are 150 of them, in the drama course, which I am in charge of together with three colleages, there are 55. This makes 205 who I meet every week, usually for three lessons, and of who I should not only remember the names, but also their abilities, their weaknesses and strengths. I am expected to observe all of them and be able at the end of the term to say what their oral abilities and performance are. I should correct at least three written papers per student for which I will take 30 minutes on average. This makes 150 x 3 x 30 minutes = 225 hours of extra work. If I can work 10 hours a day, this means 22,5 extra days or 4,5 extra working weeks in a term of altogether 20 weeks. Actually, it means half of my weekends.

It's not even the work that bothers me, it's the lack of leisure time to lean back and relax, and to get some distance to what I do. The time to think and to feel, and to indulge my body and my sexuality. Instead I'm sleepless, and horny, and confused, and when I fall asleep exhausted, wet dreams haunt me all through the night, in which my Bad Sister Hyde wallops in sexual degradation and dirt. Until the alarm clock sends me to work again the next morning.

Ok, maybe I am a little crazy, who knows ... I have noticed some things with me over the years that were not so commom with others. I always hope that people can live with it, without thinking badly of me - thanks, Seshat, for your understanding. Sometimes unheard of events can bring about unheard of actions. Death is certainly such an event.

I remember OldGeezer asking some days ago if I could not introduce Phillip into our jacuzzi round for Elsie to have someone for her awakened tastes, too, and how I would feel about it. This has to remain a theoretical question as it will never happen. The reason is something which struck me as rather sad in the beginning, namely that although being close friends of mine Phillip and Elsie and Joerg do not take to each other, are not compatible at all (see 23 Dec 2005). And I do not try to change this, I have learnt to just take it as a fact.

If I could share Phillip with others is a different question. Some of you may remember that we did when Phillip acted out his fantasy - with Traudl, the elf. Was it a success, was it a failure? Did I suffer? From what? I have learnt that a moresome complicates a lot, while the number of participants rises slowly, the number of problems seems to explode.

I have just read my old blog of Dec. 23 ... there is a comment underneath by a woman I like a lot: MissP, later Esoterica, who I have not seen around at NN lately. I seem to have lost her friendship, or her respect, while Traudl became a topic here. It has saddened me many times to have her disappear from my life. It seems that I have lost almost all women's attention, although I don't know why. Thanks, Seshat, sister, for your comments - you seem the only one left.