But the garden beckons. Tube trains rattle past and there’s a green parakeet squawking in the lime tree on this warm May afternoon. My two old cats Lola and Toby (aka Little Fatty) wander in and out- sleeping on the sofa or on the sunny doorstep. And the garden beckons: Come outside. Come and play… I could take my laptop out but would I write anything? No. So, the only way is to give myself a fixed time. You are only allowed to write for one hour, max. Then you have to stop. You have to go out.
I was away at my mother’s for the Bank Holiday last weekend and gave myself some time off. Now it’s hard to readjust to the city and my tiny garden after a space measured in hectares. And I feel called to the outside. To escape. Perhaps it’s time to move away, back north. But to give up friends and the lovely community gardens I work in…
More to think about. But first only one hour of my WIP then I have to go outside!
Ali Thurm 