Radio ga ga

So, here I am, back from a lovely Easter break, sleeves rolled up, apron on and finding myself once more in the calm and comforting surroundings of my little garage workshop, pottering amongst the buckets of flowers.

In my solitary world of work I'm accompanied by the familiar tones of my little radio - I start with the breakfast show but always tune in for Womans hour on radio 4. I switch back and forth throughout the day - The Archers repeat over lunch, the afternoon play followed by a bit of Steve Wright in the afternoon and then if I'm really busy a final hour or two with Simon Mayo. These voices on my little DAB punctuate my working day like old friends. I can be singing along to a tune one minute and have tears rolling down my face the next listening to a tragic tale - be it factual or fiction and all the while arranging my flowers.

In this little unheated space I call my office, freezing in winter and cool in summer, there'll be no gathering around the photocopier to discuss the latest snippet of gossip, just me and my radio. I'll have the doors open when it's sunny and shut up when the wind and rain kick up a storm outside. I'll say hello to posty as he crunches up the gravel drive to deliver the mail and occasionally I'll enjoy the silent company of a robin stealing hypericum berries from a bucket or more recently, a blackbird helping herself to some lovely green moss for her nest.

But whatever the job I'm working on happy or sad big or small, my little DAB will be chattering away in the background keeping me in tune with the world at large.