Rem Thieving Swine!

Wednesday 7:21 p.m.
There was a big sign on the gates into the allotment when I got there about four o clock today. It began in bold letters with something like: TO THE PERSON WHO'S BEEN STEALING FROM MY ALLOTMENT, and went on to say that they'd been spotted and something they'd dropped during the thieving had been handed into the polis. What drama among the allotmenteers! We're talking about folk stealing stuff like turnips here. I wish someone would come and steal my turnips as I've got far to many even if I make nothing but turnip soup for the next month. Long term readers of this blog (hello, Jack!) will remember me complaining that the evil bourgeois were stealing my dirt, or the plants must grow from sooking up the earth, which still sounds logical to me.

Allotmenteering makes frontiersmen of us all! The west wasn't won with a licensed gun! Just remember that you thieving, fung, basturn swinehunts! Put your paws on my apples and you'll be pushing up turnips next year!

We have a wee apple bush on our allotment. As a boy, I stole apples from folk's gardens. Sometimes we had to run away, but I did not think it was a sin, or I would not have done it. Today I tentatively bit into one of the apples on our wee bush and it tasted .... very nice! Such a surprise. For the last two years they've been sour. So I'm going to make apple stew to go with the delicious soup (the current pot is beige coloured but very nice indeed!) and the home made bread. What a fortunate creature I am!

23:33 p.m.
Twenty years ago, me and Brian Wilson and Capn Jambo used to run up Clermiston Road. This is a big, big hill, the biggest hill you could find on the ten mile round trip we used to take on a Sunday morning run. Today I cycled down in on the nazi bike. I've never been on a bike and gone faster.

I'm the urban spaceman, baby, I've got speed. I've got everything I need.

I'm on the Epilogue of this draft of my new novel. Some of it is about ra bliss! I'm going to use this stuff, which you can get at by sticking Benson, Harvard, Tummo into google. He's the scientist who did the measurements on the juju I'm practising. Here's how it goes:

"The researchers also made measurements on practitioners of other forms of advanced meditation in Sikkim, India. They were astonished to find that these monks could lower their metabolism by 64 percent. "It was an astounding, breathtaking [no pun intended] result," Benson exclaims.

To put that decrease in perspective, metabolism, or oxygen consumption, drops only 10-15 percent in sleep and about 17 percent during simple meditation.

But you cannot measure ra bliss! I'm going to read some more of the Kite Runner in bed! So it's over and out from RaBlissBlog!

Thursday 9:40 a.m.
Just before going to Bellshill. I've been meditating this morning from about quarter past seven. Slightly irritated that I'm going to spend so much of the next few days of my so-called free time with flatheids.

I'll try to remember that flatheids arise as appearance and emptiness, waves on the great big ocean of consciousness. Just like moi. You are not what you think you are. Things just look that way. It's just a view. So stop feeling irritated and that wee bit resentful. If the flatheids are going around with their heads stuck up their backsides are are too dumb to meditate, well, that can't be my fault, Jack. So I'm not going to let it bother me! I'm not! I'm not! They're lucky to be flatheids. They could we wasps, or slugs, or monkeys!