New faces and moonshine

Our next-door-neighbours, the NNs, have got a new tenant in their upstairs flat.  According to Frau NN, it's a separated man - let me rephrase that, a man who has just separated from his wife - and he'll be living alone, primarily.  I had to ask as to the meaning of primarily in this instance.  Frau NN went on to say that although his marriage is over, his wife intends to come over every weekend to do his cooking and washing (presumably his clothes).  Does she have a screw loose, or just a guilty conscience?  Who in their right mind would do this??  I haven't seen the new neighbour yet, but Gaia, who spied him in the garden yesterday, says he is the spitting image of 'the perverted murderer from The Lovely Bones'.  It turned out she had only seen him from behind, so he may not be that bad.  Time will tell.

In the last blog I told you that we might be acquiring some ducks.  It is now official, and they will take up residence on 29th October.  We have decided to change their names to Donald and Daisy.  Original that is not, but these are the only two names the whole family could agree on.  They don't know how lucky they are.  Last Sunday was a feast day known as Kirchweih, and ducks all over Bavaria were slaughtered and served up with red cabbage and a smattering of spices.  All Donald and Daisy will have to worry about is the prominent cat community.  Not Max himself, who is a bit of a wuss, but other, more aggressive types.  You may wonder why we are getting ducks at all, but the other two runner duck couples in the street seem to hold their own very well and don't let anyone, feline or otherwise, ruffle their feathers.  They just move away quickly, making gentle quacking noises (strange, I know) to somewhere out of harm's way.

How can I go without telling you about what I did this morning.  I got up at three thirty a.m. to meet some people from work for a Mondscheintour, a moonlight hike up to the top of the Herzogstand (one of the nearby mountains).  We reached the top ten minutes before the sun rose.  I cannot describe the beauty of it all.  It more than compensated for the tiredness I am now feeling.  Snow-capped peaks bathed in an orange glow, valleys thick with drifting cloud, absolute silence, and then the sun bursting over the horizon bathing everything in light.  The cloud and fog slowly moved away to reveal the lakes and villages below.  It was stunning.  On the way down we met several people on their way up, all looking a bit dour, to be honest.  I greeted them all perkily, feeling smug that just for once, I was one of the first instead of dragging my way up at midday.  I don't think they appreciated my cheeriness, but they might be feeling a bit better now, sitting up there sipping tea and chewing a Weisswurst.  I hope so.