Too early, even the blackbirds building a nest outside the window are not up yet. I wake at 4 am with my head full of stuff, odd random surreal sounding stuff but it wasn’t a dream, someone actually said, “It’s time we gave this prehistoric plant a voice,” at one of the meetings I was at yesterday. At 4 am talking plants get mixed up with more prosaic stuff like restoring Great Aunty Ada’s old sofa. Is that estimate from the upholsterer the cost with or without material? Will I get that article written by Tuesday? And, oh god, did I ever answer that email about the meeting in the community garden? This is a sure sign that I have filled my days too full, the only way I get back to sleep is to promise myself I will dump some of this stuff out of my head and on to my keyboard when it’s proper morning. What else are blogs for?