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Friday 26 November 2010

The auld maw!


Saturday 12:50 a.m.
                              Of course, I'm very fond of the auld maw. Although she changes. I started going to see her every week when I was looking after the kiddo. When the kiddo appeared, I  thought I should take her through to Bellshill, and I did this every week.I'd take the kiddo through every Monday. These are your people. Then, when the kiddo had other things to do I thought  I should go every week because the auld maw was by then about seventy, and I thought she might not last so long. Now, she's ninety two.I still go every week.
                            I'm not a real man. I can talk to folk. I can ask them about things. I'm not a stookie. A lot of men are like that.
                            Anyway, she canny hear too well these days. She won't put in her hearing aid either. Last week, I got there a bit later because of a mix up with the train. So I wasn't there so long. Today, after we had the chatting as we do when I first get there, she asked if I'd some time left for the meditation. Yippee! So I says that I don't have to go this week for another hour, and we go upstairs so she can lie down and I can sit, and we can listen to the Dharmapadda. After the wonderful first meditation I had before going to Bellshill, I knew this would be a treat. I don't know what she makes of the Dharmapadda, but she says she's still with us because of the tapes. A contented mind. This wummin has one. She's always had this ability to lie down and tell the world to go fung itself.
                         Before she lies down, she tells me she's going to give me a week at the Samye Ling for my sixtieth birthday. How much would that cost? About £250, and a bit rich for me. But she says okay. Christ alone knows what that amount of money means to her. But she's got it and she doesn't care. Not as if she can go out and spend it.
                         I can do ra bliss and all, but I'm not as good as she is. But at least I'm her son.
                         The tree is in Bellshill. The view is off the Telford Bridge on the way home. Part of the beautiful, wonderful city!
                    

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

chico caliente
what a fortunate creature you are you are
loveandpeacexxx

Hotboy said...

Spango Yogini! Indeed I am, I am! One counts one's blessings every day, so one does! Hotboy

rob said...

Don't worry about the hearing aid, she probably puts it in after you've gone.

Hotboy said...

Albert? You might be right! Hotboy

cdp said...

What an amazing story!
I love it!
I think that my Mom would have loved meditation too, as she was an old hippy who died before she was ever able to try it or the weed. Sad ...

Hotboy said...

OCD! You should give it a go yourself! Hotboy p.s. I mean the meditation, not the weed! If you find any weed, you can give it to me and I'll take it to the police station!