The first thing I noticed after entering Joerg and Elsie’s house were two signs which read LADIES and GENTLEMEN hanging on their bathroom respectively on their bedroom door. Those were the changing rooms for tonight’s Jacuzzi session, where we were supposed to put on our one-piece bathing-suits. So we disappeared behind those doors.

While we were changing, Elsie told me that she was totally boycotting Joerg, as far as sex was concerned. She didn’t even show herself naked to him, and left the room when he undressed before her eyes. Saying this she looked smug and pleased with herself, and she had something of a mad glint in her eyes.

Later we were sitting in the bubbly liquid and talked about nothing really important or funny. Joerg looked depressed; if he could have made his ears hang, he certainly would, and I bet that his cock, which was usually busy hopping up and down with pleasure in this watery situation, was shorter than an inch. Elsie sat there triumphantly, and I felt awkward in my wet bathing-suit that clang to my body. After the bubble bath, we quickly dressed and moved to the living-room.

I was not amused – and I told them. There was no fun being the third party in someone’s marital war. A middle-aged couple who has stopped having sex and does everything to jealously keep their partners from enjoying sex with someone else – this is how I imagine hell. And although it’s just man-made hell – it’s hell all the same. That is what I told them, and I finished by saying that they needn’t invite me to any further Jacuzzi fun until they were their old selves again and had made it up. This had nothing to do with our friendship, and I would come and eat cake and drink coffee with them anytime, or go to the theatre or to a concert, but just not this.

And then I said nicely thank you for having me, and left.

This is part of a message an NN-friend sent me today:

"I think you have been very harsh on Tanja by not hearing her side of the story. It is not the right thing to do to a friend, all you had to do was exclude her from your Thursday night arrangement. You should not have been so heavy handed with her.
Hugs"

It made me think - as in a few minutes I will go over to Elsie and Joerg. It's going to be awkward today without Tanja and in one-piece bathing-suits, but that is Elsie's arrangement. I found one after turning some drawers upside down, and it is canary-yellow, of all colours.

But I love messages like the one above, it is good to have an objective outside view of one's life, so I have promised my friend to phone Tanja in the next few days and talk to her. Maybe I was a little too harsh with her.

Now off I go - to be bubbled over.

It's been a quiet day so far, there is not much to tell. The sun is shining and it is quite warm, and the unusual masses of snow melt ... well ... like snow in the sun.

I went to the vet's again today because of my cat; she still behaves strange and develops different kinds of rashes, and in addition to that she has stopped eating her ordinary food. The vet asked me if I cared for a second opininon, he would ask a new colleague in to have a look at my cat (and me ... LOL).

Now it turned out that this new doctor was a woman in her late twenties, and, what is more, she is some kind of a cat psychiatrist. She does not exactly say that she can talk with animals, but stops rather short of that. She knew pretty fast what my cat lady is suffering from: ADS - attention deficit syndrome - caused by the change between my sabbatical, when I had a lot of time for her, and the fact that I go to work again every day and leave her alone for some hours.

So I finally know what the problem is: I am not an owner with a cat problem, but I have a cat with an owner problem. So as soon as I adapt my behaviour to her desires, she will be normal again.

And - what does this teach us?

The end of an uneventful day full of work. Sometimes I think it would be nice to be shovelling snow or building a house and look back on my work in the evening and see the result.

What I remember are some conversations ...

... with Frau Schneider in the morning: "Yes, awful, that snow."
... with my headmaster (telling me 80 students want to take part in my drama project next year): "Don't be daft - it's the play, not me, who attracts them."
... with ambitious Annette, a 17-year-old student who cried when she got back her English text: "You should write English regularly, maybe a diary, or a blog, to improve your style." (A blog where ?)
... with Jérome (after he asked me jokingly what my love life is like):"Do you feel like making a contribution to it?"
... with Phillip, via SMS: "Yes, I will come and visit your parents next weekend. Kisses, too."
... with Ruth: "Fine then, I'll be there Friday, 7.pm."
... with the Baker's wife (while buying bread): "So nice of you to remember my father. Yes, people always say he was a good doctor."
... with Frau Schneider in the late afternoon: "Yes, the snow is truly awful, and such a lot."

The rest is silence.

Today after school, I am going to visit an elderly woman I had regular contact with some time ago, I don't think many of you remember. Her name is Ruth and she is the wife of a university lecturer. I had had sex with her husband incidentally, once after a literature course a long time ago, but she did not know then. The professor had done it because he said his wife was not interested in sex anymore at all.

But then I met them in the street one day, and they invited me, and Ruth, who was home alone fairly often, took a fancy to me and invited me to visit her quite regularly. After some time she started to tell me about herself and her life, particularly that at her unusual age she had taken herself a lover because her husband was not interested in sex anymore at all.

Both of them are brilliant, funny people, but still not quite my age group, so eventually we didn't meet so often, and then I had my sabbatical and was away for a time. And I was always a little uneasy because I knew more about their partners' lives than they did.

But lately I met Ruth while shopping and promised I would see her one of these days. I will make an effort today and phone, so that we can arrange dinner together and catch up on our biographies.

I feel much better, and I enjoyed today's lessons a lot. "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy", we were reading in "Hamlet" with my third-years, and I thought, "Yes, Phillip, that is definitely true."

While re-reading I notice that some of my past blogs are quite awkward, so I ought to be careful how much alcohol I consume when alone. I also read all your messages and comments of the last few days, my dear readers and friends; it's so lovely to have people around. Thanks, Kat, you're the only woman who stands by me - I am so glad to feel you close. Thanks for the long messages some sent: it's so good to find my world mirrored in your observations and in your advice.

When I came home at noon, I had a written message in my letterbox. It's from Elsie - so she is back - and it's an invitation to jacuzzi night on Thursday. And the funny bit: there is a dress code. "Guys are supposed to wear knee-long swimtrunks and gals one-piece swimsuits (no bikinis allowed)." Gosh, when did I wear such a swimsuit last? I must see if I still have one anywhere.

I guess Elsie's idea is to torment and punish Joerg a little. Why not - if it does not go too far.

I can think best when I walk, that's why I put on my winter boots towards noon and went uphill. I had to follow the main road because of the more than knee-deep snow, but there was not much traffic. I went as far as he high bridge from which two years ago a desperate mother had dropped her two children, aged two and four. They fell 200 meters before they were smashed to smithereens on some pointed rocks and washed away. There is a wire-mesh net now, but I doubt if it could stop anyone determined. I looked down long.

Why should I allow anyone else to decide about my life? Why should I be happy or sad according to someone else's plans? Who was I just half a year ago? A strong woman who was standing on her own two feet, who did exactly what she wanted and made up her own mind about what she wanted to enjoy and what she didn't care about. Then LOVE struck. But I adapted much too readily - it was too good to have someone. But though I am ready to share - I am not willing to suffer. "Who loves most is in an inferior position and must suffer", the old saying goes. But this can no longer be me.

So when Phillip leaves for a year in July, I will suggest to officially end our relationship. He can do what he wants, and I will do what I feel like - and in a year, I am ready to meet and find out if there is anything between us that draws us to each other. I will promise Phillip not to be prejudiced and be as open on that day as if we had met for the first time ever.

When I left the abyss behind me, it was still snowing heavily, but my heart was lighter.

I phoned my school today to tell them I was ill and could not teach. I need some time to myself to be able to think.

This little machine called Alpina
is ever so cute and
works ever so well.
It can talk and cook,
and clean and teach,
it can suck cock and can be fucked -
and it does not even have to be
wound up
from time to
time.

We didn't have as much time to speak about our future as I would have wished. The big topic for this weekend was snow. It had started to snow early on Saturday morning and it did not stop for 24 hours. This morning there was a blanket of 40 cm of heavy, wet snow lying over everything. I went out serval times to shake bushes and trees, but still there are branches ripped off in my garden, and it was impossible to get to our house before the municipal snow ploughs reached us around noon today.

Phillip and I spent almost all morning digging out his car and shovelling a path to the main road. Because the snow was so heavy it was not an easy job to do. Because we also made a little path to the Schneiders next door, they invited us in to some coffee and home-baked bread, so time passed much too quickly. When the roads were open, Phillip went on his way because he had to meet someone for an article which is due next week and he wanted to make sure he is well informed.

In the radio news I heard that there has not been as much snow in March for 74 years. Before I started up my computer, I noticed, however, that the sun has come out, and the glittering snow looks just beautiful.

I wish inside me it would look as bright and clear - but it does not.