The radio died about an hour into carving this morning, or more accurately it's alive but only picking up one station now, and that station is a woman talking very slowly about her allotment. I've listened to forty minutes about potatoes. I know more about that woman's seed beds than I know about my own children at this point. And the thing is I can't turn it off because turning it off means admitting the silence is worse, and I'm not ready to have that conversation with myself before lunch.

It's a small thing though. The block's going well. New hare, and I keep catching myself carving the same eye I carved the last three times, and it's either a style or a blockage and I'll find out which when I pull the proof. Some days the radio fills the room and some days it's just noise and today it's a woman and her potatoes and I'm oddly fine with it. Sure the head on it.