Later!

Sunday 11:43 p.m.
On Thursday night, Friday night, and Saturday night, I had flatheids to attend to. This is far too many flatheids. Being with the Domestic Bliss on Friday was alright ... fair play to the Domestic Bliss, but tonight was the first evening for ages when I could just go and investigate the bliss. You want to be investigating the bliss when the day turns to darkness.

I am no use to flatheids. People who stop me meditating, including moi, do not excite my compassion. If I just meditated a lot more, then I could deal with the flatheids a lot better. The first noble truth is the truth of frustration. I got the evening meditation together tonight, but this is Sunday. Had I got it together on Thursday, the whole weekend would have been much better. I was a bit surprised by how calm I felt this morning. So I knew I had not been calm before. Basturns! I had great meditations in the allotment this evening, but ... I'm sorry for the too dumb to meditate and I give in, but I'm not any way advanced enough in this malarkey for that not to affect moi. Flatheids are like an infection. The more you have to deal with flatheids, the more flatheided you become.

The air was sometimes thick with dandelion seeds as the old, toothless one and I ran along the cycle paths of North Edinburgh. I'd never seen the like before. We ran for forty five minutes, or padded along, and then turned back. The hour and a half of jogging takes three hours out of the day. There is an hour in the bath afterwards. Then there is a half hour lying on the couch dozing off and waiting to see if you will ever be able to walk and talk again. Then you start sitting in the lobby again.

I'd just arrived at the mid-brain chakra, and so far it had taken about six hours to get there, when the Domestic Bliss came back home and I had to stop.

I was sitting in the allotment by nine o clock. Back to the post for holding up the raspberries, the allotment photies were taken at ten o clock. The bus stop photies were taken on the way to the Traverse last night. There were no open graves to fall into last night. Hurrah!

I left the allotment tonight at half ten. You folk from Chilly Jockoland who are now living in deserts might remember that it's almost still light then at this time of year. Some of the birds, who had been talking to each other throughout, were still chattering away at half ten. The auld wummin in the allotment at my back told me once she didn't want to attract too much attention because she was often in the allotment late at night. She has a wee drink. She enjoys the sitting there in another kind of way. I think I should silently offer her my protection since I expect to be sitting with my back to her quite a lot this summer. God is good! God is great! God is nothing like moi!