A Spork in the Road

Get thee gone, wastrel. Stop wasting a perfectly good morning/afternoon/evening/night reading about red pee and fatigue headaches, and go read Maureen McHugh’s blog, where she writes about things like 10,000 Hours:

I’m wondering now what a second 10,000 hours does. And a third. Does it make a difference that I started writing seriously at nineteen? Would I be able to start writing seriously now, at fifty, and at sixty produce something competent? I think so, although I’m not sure. I’m pretty sure it, and I, would be different than what I will produce at sixty now. The practice shapes me as much as I shape the practice.

And about Urban Gardening:

I’m an indifferent gardener, gung ho in spring, bored by summer, overrun by weeds by mid-season. At the moment I plant things like rosemary and thyme which require no maintenance at all. I don’t spend $50 to $250 a week on vegetables, so My Farm would be admirable but not budget concious for me. Still, I like it a lot better than hiring a gardener.

And so forth. Lots of posts about food and writing. And what’s more interesting than food and writing?