on a personal note

No reason for (depending on view) either -- mourning or joy. I am still alive and kicking. I just have so much going on in real live right now that I can't find the time, let alone the nerve, for blogging. Three adorable but hyperactive, 14-weeks-old Parson Russell Terrier puppies (two more will have to go) are driving me to the end of my nerves' tether. They are not a pack of puppies, they are a terrorist gang. I have Al Quaida at home.

Then there is their parents' training, which I have seriously neglected for months now, then there is my shooting/hunting licence project, which I undertake to put those crazy dogs to good use. There are evening classes, including tradition and customs (trust us Germans to take something like that not from a utilitarian or sportsmanlike angle, like the English do, but from an "idealistic" and "meaningful" angle), forestry and agriculture, weapon theory, the relevant law, gundogs, and, of course everything about wildlife, once a week since September AND I am taking extra trap shooting lessons twice a week because -- to be frank -- I am not quite a professsional killer in the making, at least not with a gun. (Neither with a rifle, but the rifle shooting standards are not quite that demanding.) My shoulder and jawbone are hurting and bruised. The final test will be in May and next year I am hoping to have one of the best terrier packs for wild boar hunting in the region. Well, make that locality...

Any sensible woman my age would rather perambulate her grandchildren, but then, nobody has ever accused me of being sensible.