So much has happened lately - we have moved out of the town of Zuerich, only about 30 km, but it's countryside, much more like home. It's the little house I have mentioned some time ago, with an old, rather wild little garden and a little pool which can already be used although the water is still pretty cold due to this horrible month of May with its clouds and showers. The worst ever. We have settled down here, and if I feel like it, I can escape from here easily as there is good public transport into town.

Alpinita talks and runs around (we have built a fence around the pool). Some say she is as cute as her mother (LOL). It's wonderful to watch her grow and do new things every day. And we think it's maybe time for a little brother although nothing has gone into that direction yet. So all is great with me and I am looking forward to a happy summer.

I hope you're great, too, my friends, if you are still somewhere out there.

I felt pretty down lately, although I shouldn't. I know Phillip is this type of man who attracts women, he has always been that way, and he never had to wait long until opportunities knocked on his door or undressed for him. He did it before becoming the parent of my child, and he has done it again. And I am willing to accept this - if only my heart didn't do the opposite and hurt.

It seems that some woman he had to talk to professionally, an aloof, cool manager type in her late fifties it seems, did the Fatal Attraction - Glenn Close - thing to him, crossing and uncrossing her legs and flashing her crotch. It was the oldest woman he had ever fucked, Phillip enthusiastically told me, but wild like a tigress and with a pussy so tight it took his breath.

His erection was as hard when telling me as my heart was aching when I heard. I knew it would begin again, I had already wondered why it took so long. Or he just didn't tell me for some time, which he vigorously denied.

When he left in the evening and Alpinita slept, I first drank three glasses of red wine, removed my panties, turned on yahoo-messenger, poured a third glass and had a look if one of my closer online friends happened to be around.

"I am still a faithful Alpinist, although I haven't blogged here for ages", is what I have read in a lovely Sunday morning PM, and it touches my heart. For those who are new here: Alpinists were hard-core readers of my blog at a time, and there was a membership you could apply for and then you were entitled to cut out the following button and wear it:



Some members were quite aroused by the motto on the button and said it was certainly something they'd love to try. All in all it was good fun.

But that's not what I wanted to mention in the first place. It was that my faithful Alpinist's age is 70 and that this reminds me of something that happened to me which almost broke my academic neck, it one can put it that way. Oh, those memories.

Some of you remember that I always had a weakness for elderly gentlemen of great intelligence and experience and a lot of academic knowledge. A wise friend once observed that they might remind me of my father to who I was always very close. It was in Zuerich that I for the first time fell for one of my professors who was close to that age, and as it can be expected it was not so pleasant when our relationship threatened to be exposed.

That must have been a wild life then (in the house I mentioned in the last few blogs), someone wrote in his PM (thanks for it all the same, sweety). Actually, it wasn't much. For us having sex was very much like sharing a good, tasty meal. How wild are your meals with good friends? Do you put on gaudy tasteless clothes which do not become you? Do you you eat with your fingers and smear everything over the table and your guests? For us, sex was a very simple thing, and there was no connection whatsoever to anything pornography sells you as real.

My attitude was that I could share a little tasty snack with almost anybody without planning to share the rest of my life with him (or her). Few guys actually understand this because for many having sex equals some kind of ownership. Never for my friends, I am happy to say.

A crucial aspect is what attitude you have towards nudity. For me it was always the absence of clothes; I was educated that way. I was reminded of this while moving house lately and looking at some photographs form my childhood. We were are in the garden and around the pool on a summer's day, and everyone was stark naked. And I wondered how many of the people I know have nude pics of their parents and think that this the most natural thing in the world.

It is not that we were all sexually starved or anything, not the girls anyway, while the guys were just guys, which means horny most of the time, but that is not unusual. We were nice middle-class kids whose parents gave enough money to rent the old house. This happened in autumn, at the beginning of the academic year, and we were all students, most of us in the final years of teacher training.

The house was so big that we all had our own rooms. There were two bathrooms and two kitchens, and a large living-room with sofas and chairs. In the evening we were sitting together, talking and playing games. Soon we also shared our meals who we had around a large table in one of the kitchens. We also shared our dope, I have to admit, although I was never proficient in it because cannabis always made me sick. While the others were high, I was rather low on my knees in front of the toilet bowl. Such is life.

Finally we decided also to sleep together in one room - which was not compulsory when you felt ill or had some need for privacy. We had put soft mattresses all over the floor in one room and lots of blankets. There was something like couples who usually slept close to each other, but usually we must have looked like a litter of puppies of kittens, only that to my knowing they do no have sex. This is what we did when we felt like it, and we often did, and as there were five guys and three girls, there was a lot of stirring and moaning around you before you fell asleep. Mind you, there were no orgies in which everybody participated like swingers, it was just quiet cuddling in twos and sometimes in threes, predominantly heterosexual and nothing kinky.

We actually thought we had found an ideal life-style. We were a funny, peaceful lot, and we thought the world could be like us, if they followed our example. If only the four basic human needs could be fulfilled: Always having enough to eat, to drink, to smoke and to fuck. Yes, that was our motto, and such was our life.

When the sun was shining and this special tang of approaching spring was in the air yesterday, I steered my pram out of the centre of Zuerich, along the more shadowy side of the lake until after more than an hour I was standing in front of the house I had lived in during the year of my studies. It still looks pretty the same, quite a large structure in the middle of a little park, with trees, bushes and some wild flowers in summer, no vegetable patch or anything similarly cultivated. At the end of the 19th century it was certainly built for a well-to-do family, afterwards it was used for some communal offices until it could be rented by one of my friends, who was the son of a town official. Yesterday it looked uninhabited, in desperate need of a fresh coat of paint and a gardener; maybe they are planning to tear it down like so many old houses in big gardens, to build another block of flats or offices.

It was strange to stand there and look through the wire mesh fence. I was immediately looking at two houses at the same time: this quiet, deserted, run-down place who possibly escapes people's notice when they come along here from the tramway after work, and the house of my memories, which was so full of life. Someone had painted it light green then, and there were always flags and posters hanging outside, which were noticed and commented on by passers-by, who were gaping at our house with interest, hoping they might see some nude skin somewhere in the windows and disapprove.

But as much as I looked, there was no movement behind the half blind window panes, and I was not standing topless up there and waving down at me, as I sometimes had at curious bystanders. Instead I tried to explain to little Alpinita, who had woken up from her sleep, that this was the house in which her mummy had once lived.

Where ever will she live when she is 22, and who will she wave to then?

Not all of you may remember that I have mentioned how I spent a year at Zuerich University during my teacher training (If this was a book, I could make a reference to a previous page and send you back there). This was in the early nineties, just before I left for England and spent a year there. I had felt it was time to leave the warm nest provided to me by my parents. Had I known then how suddenly they would have to die shortly afterwards, I might have stayed with them and enjoyed every minute of what was entitled to us before fate struck.

Until my arrival in Zuerich, I had never lived on my own for a longer time. My father had organized a one room studio for me, and in the beginning I was quite pleased about it an the freedom it was offering. I went to my lectures and liked coming back to the flat in the evening, but soon I felt that the roof was falling in on me. I was lonely.

It was then that a girl who came to the same lectures told me of their project of renting a house together with some friends who were mostly students, too. It was Beatrix, and her later husband, and some I have not met for some time now; it was also Leon, with who I had quite a special relationship. We were a very close group of friends there in this year, and we shared whatever we felt like, from the kitchen to our beds. This is how I grew fond of special cooking and special sex.

I cannot see this view from our flat, but when I push the pram along the Bahnhofstrasse, past the headquarters of some lately rather infamous banks, towards the lake, this is what I might see on a clear day, particularly when the Föhn blows, the warm southerly wind which affects people in all different ways. I has been long since I saw the town on such a summer day, it's mainly grey for the time being and there is a lot of fog or low clouds like today.

When it gets warmer in spring, I will go to the park along the lake with Alpinita, and she'll play in the water or feed the swans, as I proudly watch over her. I am looking forward to spring - I so much love the warmer seasons. A month or two now - and then it will be here. I am waiting.

No, we're not on the moon, but emotionally further away from home than I had thought. Home, this is still my old house in the Vorarlbergian mountains, and where we are now is town, is Zuerich, is Switzerland. I don't want to complain: they do not treat me as a stranger at all, I even speak their dialect, although it has become a little rusty since my studies almost 20 years ago. The flat we inhabit for the time being is very central, but rather small - relatively small, I must admit, because three bedrooms is not bad, just much smaller than we are used to. And although my friend Beatrix lives in this town, too, I miss people I know. Fortunately her two teenage daughters can come around now and then to babysit, so I do not have to be a 24/7 - mother and have a rest now and then and a little time to myself.

Phillip said you have not really taken possession of a place before you have not had sex in each new room. OK then, we have taken possession of it almost - just the cellar is left, but it is open to people's views as well as dusty and freezing, so maybe we're leaving this for the moment. The same applies to the little balcony: it is tiny and there is 10 centimetres of snow, so we'll certainly wait till spring until it's really ours.

For the last time for a while I am starting up my computer here in my study. I don't know when I will have settled in at the new place and come to my blog again. Meanwhile moving to Zürich is reality. Because we keep this house, it is more like going on a very long holiday, and we are not so far away that we cannot go back and get a few things we need. So it's only the winter clothes I'm taking along, while the summer things stay in the wardrobe for the time being and we'll get them later. For tomorrow there is a lorry and a few people organized who help us with the furniture we want to take along - it's not so much as the flat is relatively small. Over the week-end I'll follow with Alpinita, and from then on, we'll be residents of Zürich. Have a good time meanwhile, I'll be back.