Malcolmsian economics:

Malcolmsian economics:

If a person’s expenditure is less than their income, they can relax and focus upon life’s delights.

Without wanting to sound like an annoying advert for the Tesco food emporium, every penny matters. A bucket with holes in needs to be refilled at a faster rate than it leaks. The lower the water level in the bucket, the less holes are leaking – due to the fact that not all the holes are on the very bottom of the bucket! The more water in the bucket, the more water is pushed out the holes.

Solution? Spend less and find equalibrium. Work to fill specific holes in your life. There is a finite amount of this ‘water’ (money or resources) in the world too, so the more ‘water’ someone takes the less is available for others. I see why they refer to liquidity in economics.

‘Consumerism’ is like a “dis-ease”, creating unsustainable living conditions and misery for millions. We all need to stop spending so much!

Try this:

• Go out without money or plastic cards in your pocket.
• Set budgets and limits.
• Stop using shopping as a way to feel happier.
• Focus upon nature’s beauty which is free.
• Entertain yourself.
• Experience “going without”.
• Stop buying on credit!!!

The day after writing this blog, I read an article on the BBC website about the coming “Eco Crunch”.

This is an article close to my heart, since it is plain for all to see that we are using global resources too fast, living beyond our means and beyond the planet’s capacity to sustain this over consumption. We face bankrupcy on a global scale if we do not take action now. 6 billion actions, starting now – and not stopping until we are back in credit.

Do or die, I say.

We need some darkness in our lives

Tired? Try getting a little darkness back into your life! I believe we in the electric world need to recover the night and the soothing calm of darkness – and overcome fear at the same time.

Stars in the night sky (not my pic - apologies to photographer)

I really believe we need to get back in touch with nature and the night sky, with the rhythms of the days and seasons – and most of all, we need to give our eyes a rest – and thus give our brains a rest!

When did you last spend time in the dark, other than sleeping? It is wonderful, soothing and beautiful – and rarely pitch black. There is in fact much to see, its just that it is never normally seen.

Last night I took Rachel outside, into the garden. To her surprise (there is no clue of it when inside the house) the sky was littered with bright stars. The plough and north star very prominent but to the south we were dazzled by the beam from the lighthouse. Around about the individual houses of neighbours shed light too and far off, over the hill, the glow of the Flotta gas flare and street lights gave an ominous orange throbbing from the ground upwards, reminiscent of burning towns during the blitz (I guess). It is far from dark. I can watch the darker grey of clouds shifting slowely across from the west. I can see the stone walls white, then mere shadows, depending upon if the lighthouse beam hits them. Off across the fields a neighbours diesel generator is the biggest intrusion. The air is chilly, the grass wet with dew. The sea laps gently upon the shingle beach. The air is clean and fresh, infusing my lungs with the coolness of moist air. Delightful!

“We”/ society, generally now live in perpetual light and brightness, extending the day with electric lights to the point where we fear the dark. We then bombard our visual senses still further with car headlights, televisions and computer screens! It is exhausting, and stressful.

Lets reclaim the night, turn down the lights, turn off the tv and feel the stress slip away into the dark. Let your eyes open once more, explore the subtle and the previously unseen, delight in the stars, the moon, clouds and aurora. Last night we watched shooting stars and the shimmering light of a ship out on the bay. The cattle were munching across the meadow, birds were hopping about the walls. The clouds tumbled effortlessly across the sky, shrouding the hills and sea.

Needless to say, but I will, my other senses delight in being allowed to operate once more, after the loud noises, strong smells and bright lights have diminished. The warm breeze caressed my arms making my hairs stand on end, the air tasted salty – I was delighted to be awake, alive and free!

Give yourself time to become sleepy, put out the lights, or return to the warmth and gentle glow of candles. Try it! Just 10 minutes each night – let the natural world flood back into your life, and feel the benefits. It will also reduce your energy bill and carbon emissions.

Just imagine the endless barage of stimuli your eyes and brain are getting – from first waking to last thing at night. No wonder we are exhausted! No wonder it is hard to enjoy the subtle beauty of nature. We have pollution overload! We are shielding our senses from the full onslaught of brightness and information to be processed. I say, take a break! Give your eyes a holiday, a well earned rest, and feed your brain gentle images to calm the wave patterns and still the mind.

Dare to walk at night, in garden or lane. Try it without a torch even and be amazed!

If you cannot escape the pollution of streetlights, cars and houses, I feel for you – but I suggest you try all the more to experience a little less eye stimulation. Begin by turning off the lights in your house. Go for a walk in nature, exposing yourself gradually to the gentle light of night time. Put your torch in a bag or pocket. Save it for later. Try candles, and try just letting your eyes relax. Most important of all, give the television and computer a rest!

I promise you – life will be better if you trust your other senses. Even a walk under the orange glare of street lights is preferable to the retina burning brightness of indoors, the dazzle of car headlights, the intrusion of security spotlights.

The best books about stars in the night sky and Natural Navigation

Imagine an International Welfare System

I have a dream – I dare to imagine a world not unlike that described by John Lennon. I imagine an international welfare system, providing the basic needs of life, to all, free of charge, as a right.

I look to the creation of the British Welfare State in 1945, following the Beverage report of 1942. The subsequent National Insurance Act and National Health Service Act.

This was created to tackle the horrors of late Victorian Britain and has been under attack ever since by those opposed to any form of social cooperation, or socialism. The most sustained attack came in the 1980’s when the right wing government of Thatcher weakened the welfare system, privatised the essentials of human life (for profit) and encouraged corporate provision of basic services (for profit). Privatisation extended well beyond the utilities of water and energy (remember the attack on the coal miners?) to the privatisation of housing. We now call it a housing market – how easily we fall into line?

In 1914 90% of dwellings in Britain were privately rented. In 1993 70% of dwellings were privately ‘owned’ (with debt to banks). Thatcher also attacked the welfare state by limiting children’s access to free school meals and ending free milk. She is also known for the introduction of aerated ice-cream. Yes, bulking ice-cream out with air. That seems to typify her economic policies – create a profit margin, thus a surplus for private gain. Never the provision of quality but instead the creation of winners and losers, capitalists and consumers, with a profit skimmed off.

Those of you who ideologically rally to the right wing call of unregulated market economics think of the time you spend trying to contact your bank by phone, the hours spent listening to recorded messages, the rise in your gas bills, the need to boil your water and the ludicrous mess that is our train ‘network’. Think of your mortgage rising and your blood pressure. Think of houses that will fall down before you do, of equipment that fails before the warranty is up. What about your health? Is this the best we can get? What about the ‘quality’ – the quality of life? I’m not talking of the past but of my dream for the future!

My dream – is to take the principle of the welfare state and apply it globally – to everyone, irrespective of race, religion, age, health, ability to pay or even if they want it or not.

Clean drinking water, basic food, shelter, access to basic healthcare. Clean air too.

This paid for by all of us, the wealthy, through taxation, via international organisations (such as a true United Nations). Not hand outs for doing nothing, not dependency upon benefits and grants but a simple safety net and thus the ability to function as human beings, to work, create and supply.

There are those who say we cannot afford it. These are the same as the Victorian gentlemen (gentle?) who praised work houses, asylums, exploitation of foreign people and resources. The same as those who draped in fine clothes, jewels and fine perfume step over the poor, destitute and depressed begging in the street. The same as those who looked upon people with different skin colour as either slaves or vermin.

We, in this country, have moved on from those dark days of extreme wealth and extreme poverty – largely thanks to Lloyd George and Beverage – yet the threat of slipping back into those times is returning as the beast of corporate greed prowls the globe, cloaked in media beautification and advertising. The gap between rich and poor is widening – not just globally but in our own country. Some think this is good. How sick is that? They’ll have us building famine walls across the land before see us healthy.

We can afford a global human dignity. We can afford an International Welfare System. We can eradicate the gross disparity in living conditions, quality of life, life expectancy, health. Oh yes, we can do this. We will have to change but we can do it. In the past our wealth was extracted from the poorer regions of the Empire on the backs of slaves, serfs and the murdered (to put it bluntly). What is stopping us is the myth that it cannot be done (quickly), that we would all be living in squalor and, the worst reason of all, that a lot of people do not care. A few even actively encourage an economic system that keeps themselves segregated in their opulent wealth, estates, gated communities and secure palaces. We sit in our safe countries detached from real suffering, safe behind our passports, immigration officials and border guards.

We rich get fat, depressed, bored and stressed. The poor get sick, starve, terrified or killed. The proof that the present system isn’t working is all around us. Life is, for most of us, not all that good. We turn to drugs, religion or suicide as ways to cope. We block it out, have a drink, watch TV, take anti-depressants, focus on any distraction we can to deny the truth. We are not as well as we could be.

The signs are it is going to get much worse: Global warming, energy crisis, food supplies, population increase, pollution, loss of drinkable water, debt, ill health. Oh stop! However, these are issues that will not, cannot go away. There is no magic wand, no caring super power (god), no alternate universe. We are up against the wall with nowhere to hide. So either we do something about it and make life better or we just numb our heads and give up. As you are reading this (as opposed to being off your head or dead) I guess you are not really the “bury your head and ignore it” sort of person.

So, lets have a Beverage Report for the 21st century, for our problems of today, for the people around us and the place we live. 60 years ago the National Health Service changed life in Britain. Not everyone believed in it, just as some prefer the ‘ways’ in the US today. They are a small minority. The majority want a safer, securer, healthier and fairer future – and we know, in our hearts that it might just be us who needs help in the future – so better help everyone and be a good Samaritan. It also makes us feel better helping others.

Life today is better than those men of Victorian Britain knew – so too could our future be better than today!

Imagine … and then make it happen.

My Top 10 Charities / Non-profits

I have this compelling need to tell you, mythical reader of this blog, of my chosen charities – ones close to the ethos of this blog, so potentially of interest to you.

My top 10 charities are:

• Survival International
• Water Aid
• Practical Action
• New Internationalist
• Amnesty International
• MSF -  Médecins Sans Frontières
• Greenpeace
• Friends of the Earth
• John Muir Trust
• Soil Association

Have a look at them and be inspired.

The avenues for positive change are open – we need only walk them.

~ ~ ~

“Leave it a little better than you find it”

How did I become a good consumer?

I have looked back into my past to try and understand how I became the person I am today – how I became a good consumer? (By ‘good’ I mean effective, good at the activity, not pure and praiseworthy). I started by scribbling these notes with a pencil whilst my computer was searched for spyware – a common feature of life with Microsoft. My brain could not hold back, so pencil in hand, I wrote:

“Sirens of consumerism, seducing us with advertising.

Why do we need advertising? How much is information and how much is persuasion? Silver-tongued snake oil salesmen and the black art of emotional manipulation … politicians, traders, editors, marketers, speculators, sellers of advertising space … ordinary human beings and some of the most creative brainpower … going towards encouraging over consumption and deteriorating living conditions, in society and environment (one and the same). They have to feed the kids, roof their home somehow.

I have the image of drug addicts, chasing the dragon, of scrawny crack-cocaine addicts pushing pills to pay for that ache-relieving fix.

Where, I thought, does this process begin? What causes these bright brains and otherwise beautiful beings to a) want b) want more c) feed the addiction by selling? I need to understand how it happens so I can stop it happening and help people off the addiction. Using the power of memory, which is fading with neglect, I peer through old imagery in my head to my childhood and the origins of “me”.

Childhood dreams of motorbikes, glory and adoration. Adverts and glossy pictures, gleaming paintwork and delicious curves captured in sharp and soft images. And the semi-naked woman adorning the bike, writhing, imploring me to … what? I didn’t know but for a teenage (just) boy her body lured my brain cells like metal filings to a magnet. A magnet with a bike attached. I guess my subconscious wanted her but my consciousness wanted the bike. I started to get pictures of bikes from the local bike shop. Super glossy A4 leaflets with a picture one side, technical detail the other. I drawled over the exquisite beauty of the Yamaha, the Honda, I imagined in astounding detail the roll of the wheel and the effortless acceleration (I knew how to ride a bicycle and also knew the effort involved and craved power). My head collected numbers, horsepower, torque, suspension travel, and the most magic of them all, the 0 – 60 mph, the acceleration – that which was beyond my physical capabilities and that would thrust me forward in adrenaline intoxication. Freud fans can read between the lines, I’m sure.

This was a time in the 1970’s, pre mobile phones, satellite media, internet, designer clothes – at least in my world. Heck, Britain was not long out of rationing and was deep in debt to the USA. This was a time of pocket money, toys, paper rounds and playground friendships. I knew no magazines or tabloid papers and adverts on tv seemed to be for housewives (not my mum) with their detergents and shampoos. All stuff I didn’t buy.

Yet slowly, the general culture of my society trickled into my head. There were the motorbikes and what other boys talked of at school. There was television and what was talked of the next day. Long before I saw vast wealth and fashion, in the face, I was learning to judge my existence relative to images instead of copying real people. This set up aspirations and then expectations, a sense of being different from those around me. My town was small and uneventful. Life went on at the pace of old ladies, shopping trolley in tow. I knew of other things – giraffes, skyscrapers, sexy women and motorbikes.

Most dominant in my growing up was my family and my parents. It was their lifestyle choices I was cultured in. No dinner parties, no magazines, no razzmatazz or show business. I grew up with reading comics as they read the Guardian; toy soldiers and football whilst they grew vegetables; annoyance at the news and neighbours which I copied. We went on camping holidays, ate together (7 of us, plus a dog), walked in the countryside, did chores, watched tv and I went to school. Television was dominated by sport (Saturday afternoon was religiously filled with the football results ritual, tea and two biscuits), nature programmes, news (it was the BBC after all) and the entertainment: starsky and hutch, kojak, star trek, 6 million dollar man, tom and jerry; plus blue peter, the good life, all creatures great and small. The outside world trickled into my quiet, secluded town.

Second was school. (There is a reason I love Pink Floyd). School was the slow, steady hammering of my brain into shape, in the forge of indoctrination. Subtle, repetitive beats that bruised and damaged me: Competition, class, distinction, difference, segregation, routine, rules, conformity, slow atrophication of creativity and spirit, flattening of humour, spontaneity and cooperation. We formed cliques, we were competing on a scramble up the ladder. We all new it. There was a hierarchy and we each had a rung to occupy. Some how I began to expect / dream of a rise to the top. Hard work and compliance would be the ticket out of this trauma – this ‘end of childhood’. I was not allowed to return to my games and imagination (except during play time and after school). There was one trap door marked “Future” and it required a pass – exams and grades and escape to adulthood in the freedom of independence – university, and a rise to the clear air of choice, self determination, control.

Expectations were set by parents and school – pass exams and get a career, grow up and be a man. Success, achievement, purpose, a good life. I was led to believe, like a lamb, that “others have this, you not only can but you ‘should’ have it too. Along side this were the other messages: You will be liked more, you will be admired, you will be ‘better’.

I was lucky. Whilst I was subjected to the mass culture, I was better off (in my opinion) than the rest. I was intelligent, well adjusted, healthy (umm, and male, white and well spoken). I was also heavily exposed to nature, not just the nurture of society. My parents did an excellent job in giving me experiences that I now treasure – the garden, badminton on the lawn and shuttlecocks stuck in the ash tree – sandwiches and tea and the sound of tennis balls thwacked at Wimbledon – the open spaces of Welsh hillsides and the rocky freedom of mountain tops – holidays in France and a tricky language – new potatoes and shelling peas – gathering mint for the Sunday roast – life by candlelight and the flicker of light from a wood fire – the smells and hisses of scots pine – the cackle of fulmars on the quarry wall. The list goes on in my head, for day, weeks, a childhood. This is what would eventually save me.

The trauma of the end of childhood and the trap door to freedom led to the escape from school and on to university – from the frying pan into the fire! I was so let down, almost devastated by the disappointment of what was really a school for over 18s. It was the wrong time to give me such a sense of deprivation – my hopes were high and I was fuelled like a rocket – and my hormones were moaning. I’d had a near death experience and knew life could be snuffed out in an instant by some other’s error or a momentary lapse of judgement. Life was potentially short. Russia and USA were in an arms race to oblivion (still unfolding) and the human virus was sickening the planet. All around the end seemed just around the corner and I had two thoughts – avoid it happening and try to do something about it. That ‘end’, was not just the end of life but also the end of my hope, the hope of freedom, the life of my dreams. The aches of growing pains were in my heart as much as my limbs. I was an emotional animal, by now confused and misguided, bruised and beaten, lonely and vulnerable. It was the 1980s. I was ready for a quick fix.

So that is the process, as I see it, how ordinary people arrive at being addicted and controlled by their addiction. The purveyors of false dreams that we are told money will buy are just you and me (well, except you are just a bit-part dealer not a multi-national trader in virtual reality. I don’t believe they are going to read this blog, ever.

This reminds me of something my father once said: “If they are not trying to kill you – you are not threatening them”. Yes, big brother may be watching but we are mostly safely below the radar, doped up on dreams and alcohol. You don’t have to watch the rats to know they are safely locked in the sewer. (I grew up listening to the Stranglers, on an old record player, scratching my brother’s album with a 78 needle). Think of all the assassinations.

I guess one of the problems is that many addicts are quite happy in their haze, so long as they have enough of their drug, and it is hard to get them to give up voluntarily. Even if their behaviour is destroying them, spoiling your life and collectively screwing the planet’s ecosystems. Persuading an addict to get clean is the story of my life, now and into the future.

Now, I am a ‘bad consumer’ yet still a vast processor of resources. Still the planet is crawling with diseased specimens of a species that is heading towards collapse. And we know it. The best bit is, life is remarkably resilient, there are millions of us who are aware and are fighting the disease, and life today is amazing. The future for many may be bleak and for millions of humans living today it is (I learn via mass media, the lives of others who I have never seen but feel for … fellow humans) but I am living an amazing life as I try to do good. I try my best”.

Attention to detail – happiness, quality of life and survival

Whether you want to know how to survive some future disaster or whether you want to enjoy the present times more – you’ve got to pay attention to detail. You need to be aware; awake; alert.

Beware Unexpected Danger - Wolf in sheep's clothing

Life is passing by and often it takes a scare or terminal illness to get folks up, out and doing things. Too often life is lived in a dull, repetetive indifference. Stop that and smell the roses! Explore the flow of energy that is life. Use your senses and live!

You would do well to turn off the television and start reading. Educate yourself.

Suggested reading:

Flow by Csikszentmihalyi

Your Money or your Life

Happiness: Lessons from a New Science

Simple Prosperity

Affluenza

A New Earth

Eckhart Tolle – A New Earth 8CDs

Also look at:

Finding Your Perfect Work

Finding Your Own North Star

Blink

Life is too short and every new day is a blessing. Hence why I say, “you should play to survive”!

I am watching my cat fall asleep – it is so cute!

Tool Sharing – Reduce Storage and Wastage … Freeconomy Community

How about we start local tool share “libraries”? Instead of books, let’s share tools. So instead of everyone being consumers and having their own lawn mowers, why not share them?

I bet there are tools in your shed gathering dust, rarely used, taking up space, going rusty, costing you money.

Garage Clutter by GregPC*

I bet there are many families, especially new ones, who do not have the tools to repair things themselves, so are locked into a cycle of consumerism, trying to break free by buying the tools they need. Well, let’s share! You might not like to lend tools out to everyone – so you need a way to keep track of who has what.

Freecycle, my local library, lift share schemes, hospitality and couchsurfing websites … they are all good ideas … so let’s go one better. Neighbours do it a bit and often fall out over it, because it is not organised. Business does it and keeps costs / cashflow in check. Farmers share combine harvesters. Why not lawn mowers?

How much time does a lawn mower spend being used and how much does it just clutter up your shed? What about bulky ladders? The list is huge, if you want it to be. A simple website can keep track of who owns tools, who borrowed them, when and when due back – and the owner can have the right to recall a tool at anytime they need. repairs are paid for.

We don’t need to pay tool hire firms all the time – and anyway, that can involve a journey into town to collect, when there will be neighbours nearer with sheds full of under used stuff. Start to share and help each other out! Reduce your personal clutter and consumption. Get quality tools that will last, instead of cheap plastic rubbish!

Don’t look at the problems – look at the solutions – and the world will be changed. Start small, in local groups. Next thing you know, your neighbours will be helping you out. If you think everyone wants to use your tools at the same time – I say that is the making of a community and a picnic or barbeque. In reality, I bet your tools are not doing much at all.

Who is with me on this?

News update – I have just discovered The Freeconomy Community website which is doing exactly this, go to www.justfortheloveofit.org and join now and start a local group! Let me know if you are in my area.

And whilst I am on the subject of Reduce, Reuse, Recycle – the old mantra of the environmental movement which spawned sites like Freecycle and Freeuseit, and I suppose they led to Freeconomy, (plus the Virtual tag giving us vskips, etc) … the drive towards Zero Waste means more “re”s need to become popular:

• restore
• repair
• renovate
• reclaim
• recreate
• recover
  

All that “stuff” has got to be found good uses – and that is going to require creativity, exactly that which has been degraded (if not lost) by the consumerist capitalism of this affluenza diseased society. Look to the arts, the odd-balls and the favelas of poverty to see lateral thinking at work.

And a weed is not a weed – if it is useful (edible, fibre, medicine, dye etc), maybe even beautiful and prefers growing where your imported and pampered plants struggle (aided by herbicides to kill the “weed” and plump up the profits of Monsanto, et al … let the natural (local) plant grow! Nettles, thistles, dock weed? OK – this is going to be another blog, on wild foods, and there I’ll write about salmonberry and Knotweed, rabbits and squirrels. Not now.

* Picture courtesy of GregPC

***

The most eco-friendly house is the one where Mr Frugal lives (me). A re-used, rented, repaired house where energy is eeked out with miserly care, and I dress properly.

***

Yoga for Guys – from tough to flexible

After years of sport, leg work, bad posture and poor eating, I find myself in all sorts of positions, yoga positions, and it is not easy! My legs are stiff and I struggle to bend and twist – now I realise how “2 dimensional” I have become. It is time to change, to stretch and give my poor muscles the pampering they long needed. Age is creeping up on me and the aches don’t go away.

Like many, I think of myself as a ’sportsman’ but in all honesty I spend far too much time sat at the computer, in the car or on some couch, slouched in appalling posture. I can stand tall, but sit down and I shrink like an old man, back hunched, belly bulging. I’d die horse riding – no straight back for me (yet).

First step was to sort the diet out (see earlier posts, if interested). Alcohol, coffee and sugar have been absent for 10 years now, and added to that list is a whole ton of other foodstuffs, junk and waste that my body has been “disposing of”, to help markets and eateries clear their shelves. ‘2 for 1′ used to mean I ate double, and so I converted the supermarkets surplus into fat on my body. How dum! I even paid them for the priviledge, feeling good about getting a discount bargain. Still dum. So, I am not overeating anymore. Gone are the occassional pies, pastries, pizzas and sandwiches. No more eating the leftovers on my wife’s plate (because I am bigger and so deserve / need to eat more). No more caffeine, cow’s milk, and a whole lot of other things. No more big portions like Desperate Dan. My body is no longer a waste disposal unit, full of shit.

Second is the yoga. It looks so easy, so “passive”, and hippy. Even though I empathise with the concept of yoga and meditation and such like, I felt it not my thing, for I was better at walking, aerobics and cycling. Its just that I am not doing enough of that and my wife is not a fan of cold, wet outdoors. So, I dabbled in a bit of meditation, pilates and yoga but it never ‘did it for me’. Then I realised I wasn’t doing it right!

So, now, after our initial month of the special diet and a degree of discipline, I find myself really enjoying the feeling of yoga – though I have not yet explored the deeper meaning of it – I am doing it to get the heart beating, the muscles warmed, stretched and toned. It is not easy! Done properly, calmly, with relaxed breathing and control – it is bloody challenging!

We use a DVD, so have an instructor, and we do it together, on a little purple mats (even though I hate the idea of buying kit for exercise), and take about 50 minutes each day, usually in the morning but not aways. I do as much as I can, and I am still learning, my muscles and brain are still learning (perhaps relearning, since I did a lot as a child, naturally, with ease).

It is quite a humbling experience to realise that one’s body has become so stiff, weak, fat and unused to not be able to do simple postures! I may stand tall, at 1.88m / 6′2″ but I cannot do half the stuff those yoga people get up to! This is like rock climbing on the flat, takes control, discipline and flexibility. The great thing is, I am getting better at it and getting more out of it!

Next - I’ll write about “flow”.

The Diet Continues but the blog dries up

Well – the blog entries dried up when we went south to Perth, last Sunday. Today is Saturday, some 6 days later.

We managed to live off Rice cakes, alfalfa sprouts (in a bag and growing as we travelled), water and bits and pieces. Basically we managed to keep on the diet and totally avoided bread, sugar, dairy, alcohol, caffeine and all the other bad stuff – a good way to celebrate the completion of 30 days diet. The yoga was mre difficult but we were getting walking in and had a great ferry ride back to Orkney, with Rachel confident to not take any motion sickness tablets.

Now we are back to work and it is busy, but the good eating is becoming a habit so we are now looking at 2 years! I’ve taken to doing yoga in strange places, when convenient – this has been a real success.

That all said, I need to explain that while Rachel is being 100% on this diet, I am only involved to “support her” and to benefit from avoiding crap and so eating the food my body deserves – and only that. That means that I have eaten a bit of cheese and pasta – because it was a gift:

We had some wonderful guests staying with us (see www.couchsurfing.com) who were so sweet and considerate, bringing gifts and food and helping out – in return for a place to stay and our company. They even cooked a special cheese and pasta free meal for Rachel – but though I have been eating the same as her they did not realise this and cooked me a special, Alpine macaroni cheese dish. So, it being after the 30 days, I relented and ate it. The next day we were back to our vegetables and prawns and so on – but good to find I had no detectable reaction to any of it … no bloating or lethargy or whatever might have been possible.

All good news. Rooibos tea, without caffeine, is the best. That and water is all we drink. Oh, tell a lie, nettle tea also. Today I picked meadowsweet and chamomile so will be drying those for use later in the summer. The nettles are good for cordage now.

Other news – the dig at Ness of Brodgar is getting interesting (and thanks to good weather is a happy place to be). I’ll be doing some demonstrations down there – when I have a day off from tours and fire making lessons. Must go now, got preparations to do for tomorrow.

I’m having the day off – flies, couchsurfers, back ache

The wind has died down – a rare occurrence here in the northern isles – so now the air feels warm, oppressive and heavy. The flies are airborne and I am reminded of life “down south”. We used to have whole summers like this – the drone of distant lawnmowers, hiding in the shade, the salty sting of sweat in the eyes and the buzzing of flies. I’d almost forgotten about that life.

Today I am resting, after a busy three days non stop, teaching survival and visiting the ancient sites of Orkney with a nice couple – the winners of Survival International raffle prize – 3 days with me – woo hoo.

I feel a bit grumpy due to straining my back while lunging for a ball this morning – and so today I am resting carefully. Met up with two really nice Couchsurfers just now – sadly we were too busy to host them but at least managed to say hello – I showed them Barnhouse village – often overlooked by tourists.

The diet continues – I’ll write it up later.

Did yoga this morning after a 3 day absence – too busy working and sleeping – and hit by hay fever – but now paying for the inactivity with an aching back. Sod’s law. Yoga felt really good too – so I am a bit pissed off.

Still, mustn’t complain. Mum is still in hospital and cannot walk – so that must be hell for her. I feel really sad for her – such a rapid loss of independence – I hope they can fix her – but hope fades with time.

Back to swatting flies and sipping rooibos.