I'm currently enjoying a week's annual leave from my day-job while writing more of Fabian. I've also been busy in the garden while I've both the time and the weather for it. Some of the borders were looking rather neglected, so I've been weeding and pruning and re-shaping the edge of the lawn where the divide between lawn and weedy mess had blurred. The contrast between sitting still, other than from fingers tapping at the keyboard, and thinking creatively and analytically as I write, and moving around with tools, a bucket full of dug-up roots and pruned, leggy stems or fronds of invasive ivy, is marked. It still requires analytical and creative thinking but of a different kind, (for eg., I'm planning to put in more spring bulbs this autumn, and move a young buddleia before it gets crowded by the holly tree, and can see that the forsythia needs pruning back now its buttercup-yellow petals are strewn on the ground). Gardening can be a form of moving medit