One of the things I am doing at the moment is digging holes in our garden. For some reason, the worms have been slacking recently, otherwise how else could one explain the fact that as after recent deluges the garden has been getting waterlogged? We have plenty of worms, but they need to dig faster.
Well, I’ve been lending them a hand, wielding my trusty garden fork. It’s good physically: I get some fresh air, sunlight, I’m a lot more than 2 metres from anyone else, and it’s good exercise. It is also dead boring.
Usually I write articles in my head when I have nothing to do and plenty of time to do it in, to quote Mae West. But today I decided to listen to a podcast instead.
There is a lot to choose from for writers, but I settled on the podcast of Slightly Foxed. It’s a quarterly literary magazine. I’ve been very tempted to subscribe, as when I’ve read the odd copy I have found it really interesting.
The episode I listened to featured an interview with Margaret Drabble, and information about a now-largely-forgotten novelist, Elizabeth Jenkins.
The other episodes look inviting too, and so I shall subscribe on Stitcher and iTunes. Suddenly, digging holes doesn’t seem quite so boring after all.