I am shocked myself how long I have not been here. I know I have friends here and I am glad for that, and I didn't want to appear ungrateful. But things have happened which gave me some other priorities: I was not at the computer much, and English has not been so much on my mind since I stopped teaching. I have been together a lot with people who are close to me - we have been talking, and wondering, and sometimes cursing fate.

Because Maximilian, little Max, is dead. He only lived a few day. They came home from the hospital, and all was so good, and my friends happy, and then once they had a look, he was lying there peacefully. What can I say? I am in my ninth month now - an I want my daughter to live.

I have mentioned the Föhn a few times before - the southerly wind which comes across the Alps, heating up while falling into the valleys and gathering speed while doing so. Last night there were gales of up to 100 miles on some exposed mountain ranges and even down here they were so strong that it was impossible to light midnight candles on the graves of the deceased, as if the ghosts wanted to keep All Saints Day off for a little while to go on doing their mischief.

It was the Föhn which might finally have helped Elsie to give birth, one hour after midnight, right on All Saints Day - it's a healthy boy called Maximilian, for short Max. I will go to hospital this afternoon and visit the two of them - and have a look what the place is like, as I will be there before long, too.

There has never been so much snow on a 30th October as far back as people can remember, and there are also no written records about such a strange meteorological freak show. There must have been close to 15 centimeters, and as the snow is very wet, a lot of trees fell across roads and train lines and there was a great traffic chaos early this morning. They said that not even the bus could run which used to take me to school because its summer tires slid on the slippery and fairly steep road down to the valley.

Nothing from Elsie yet - I had to think of her all the time. And also of the strange circumstances of her getting pregnant shortly after that evening with Aldo, when I saw her take handfuls of his cum from her body and smear it into herself. She is very uncertain about the child's father, but she has never mentioned anything to Joerg about it. I wonder if the truth will ever become evident. If it's a boy, Elsie maintains, a look at his genitals will say everything. I am doubtful of this, but then I don't know much about a baby's anatomy yet.

If the birth is tomorrow, on Halloween, it's not a lucky day, because the ghosts of autumn and of all lost souls are still at large - only after midnight they will be banned, because by then All Saints Day has begun and lights are burning everywhere. Then the baby is on the safe side - this is at least what some older people still believe. I am not so certain if this is not pure humbug.

Thanks for asking - yes, Elsie has grabbed her little suitcase and has been driven to the regional hospital where she will give birth. Hardly anyone does this at home anymore, with a local midwife, as it used to be until recently. I toyed with the thought for a while, saying that childbirth isn't an illness, so why go to hospital? But after my complications Phillip wouldn't have it and I agreed. So I am waiting for Joerg's call any minute and keep my fingers crossed for my best friend Elsie.

Snow has come for the first time this year, and on television the skiing races have begun again, with some Austrian success. Will I do my favorite sport this year? I don't know, maybe later in the new year - at least I hope so.

I talked about the present financial crisis with Phillip last Sunday, on our National Day actually, and I was in for a little shock. I must admit, I don't know much about money and it does not interest me at all. One of the reasons why I have become a teacher is that I don't have to sell anything in this profession. According to Phillip we have lost half our savings so far which are invested in stocks and shares. We still have enough, and hardly any debts, so it's not a problem. And when you think of it - it's no real money we have lost. In the past years, our shares have more than doubled their value, so we are still far for the original sum I had really earned. So far - so good ...

On this sunny morning I went to town shopping. I met so many people who saw me carry my swollen tummy through the market and asked me how I was that I started to believe what I invariably said to them: good. Yes, I do feel good.

Tonight I'll be cooking for Phillip and his colleague which who we once did a threesome - my only double-decker experience, if you remember - but no: tonight nothing will happen. I have bought a medium sized Red Snapper which I will do in the oven together with fresh herbs and some veggies. So the stomach will the organ that is being indulged tonight, unlike last time.

And: Last night I started to write a novel - but I won't tell anyone.

When I heard Elsie on the phone, I first thought that her child has been born, but she called me for quite a different reason: she said that it was their wish that I would become their baby's godmother. I was so surprised I first didn't know what to say. Usually this honor is bestowed on a close family member, but Elsie's sister lives far away and there seems to be no-one on Joerg's side who seems to be fit for it. So I gladly accepted and couldn't help shedding a few tears because I think this is so wonderful.

Elsie is looking very much forward to giving birth. She enjoyed her pregnancy a lot and never had any serious trouble. On the contrary, her pregnancy has become her and she looks just wonderful, rosy and younger than ever. She loved the attention everyone gave her and felt really sexy as a mother to be. Never before did she need regular sex more, she said lately, and she was glad she could get as much of it as she desired.

Alas, I am a little different there, nest-builder as I have become, although I still very much love Phillip being close. And I keep sucking him whenever there is time for it - swallowing his cum is just another way of having him inside me. How wonderful are the mornings when he is already gone, but I still taste him on the tip of my tongue. This is one of the things that make my day.

I got this from a friend who took the pic in my garden lately. Oh, the colors of autumn - they are so warm and beautiful !

I feel that my dark and wild Sister Hyde has gone into hibernation for a while - my urges and desires have become so quiet and ordinary. I am looking for warmth and comfort much more nowadays than for excitement, dirt, abandonment in lust and ecstasy. Phillip is catering for my physical needs ever so well, and friendship has become more important for me than ever before. I must admit, though, that a surprising message from a good friend like "Just wanted you to know that maybe you don't celebrate MTM anymore but I did this morning. Guess who I was thinking of as I masturbated in bed and cum spurted all over my chest?", which I found this morning, still sends some lusty shudders down my spine.

I think that one reason for me becoming more balanced is that I don't teach anymore. All I have to be now is myself. I don't play a role anymore - and so I don't need another side of me to compensate for this. My business suits are in a cupboard in the attic, and even my usual tight, black cotton Calida thongs have ended up in a cardboard box for the moment and been replaced by some less body-hugging, camel toe-producing, but more protective material.

We think that Elsie's baby is due by the end of next week at the latest. I will keep you informed.

I am so angry lately, which you can also see here in my blog: I have become even less tolerant with all those who make the world a worse place. I am a nest-building mother to be, maybe that's why. I want this world to be a good place to live in for my daughter (I still don't know if I am right about this, although my doctor knows. But I told him to keep it a secret).

I am in my seventh month now and feel as awkward as I look. But my health is fine, they say, and so I just wait and see what is going to happen to me in the course of the next few weeks. My friend Elsie, though, is very close to the big day: her suitcase is packed and we think that she can't last more than a few days. She is wonderful, and really excited, and I can see from close quarters what it is going to be like. She does not seem to be afraid at all, and so I have decided not to show any anxiety, either, although I am almost scared stiff when I think of what my body will have to go through soon.

Sorry for not blogging for so long. I just didn't feel much like it. I must admit - the heavier I get, the slower my mind works, and I feel I don't have much to say.

It was a bad week for Austria anyway - and I don't mean last night's abominable performance of our national football team. Austria's best-known right wing populist politician died in a car crash this week. He was driving drunk, and at 142 on a road where only 70 is allowed, but his death makes him an absolute hero, if not martyr or saint, and the populist newspapers already call him "the Prince of the Hearts", after "the Princess of the Hearts", the English housewife who eloped to France because she preferred fucking the son of an Arab shop-owner and died speeding in Paris - yes, you remember, Diana.

Where are the real heroes? "Take an example of our young sports people", the President of our Republic said in public, "like Bernhard Kohl, the cyclist who became third in the Tour de France this year. They show us the way to the future." Yesterday Berni admitted that his surprising success was achieved with the help of forbidden drugs.

What a strange world: a dead person will live on, while poor Berni, who is still very much alive, has died for most.