Spam is hateful stuff. It clogs up my email inbox. I have to scan that inbox and deal with it. I have to scan my spambox in case something meaningful accidentally ended up there. Despite the best efforts of my mail service, spam is both a time waster and deeply annoying, not least because it forces me occasionally to dwell on human greed and gullibility.

With almost two years of regular podcasting under my belt now, three things emerge.

1. I really enjoy doing this. I would like to do it more and better.
2. Despite my love for the work, or perhaps because of it, a larger audience would be rewarding.
3. In the engine room, things need to change.

The three are, of course, commingled.

Poppyseeds can be a nightmare for anyone subject to random drug tests. This much I knew, having researched the topic for my poppyseed cake recipe. I never imagined, though, that food could be more than just a little soporific. ABC Radio in Australia hauled Fuschia Dunlop before a microphone to enliven a discussion about the latest news about Chinese cooking. She reminisced:

The year just past -- especially the second half of it -- was not my finest hour. I was trying to do two (or was it three?) jobs at once, not to mention my "personal" work, and not doing any of it well. I got into all sorts of bad habits and spent far too much time lamenting my inability to move things forward when the truth of the matter, it now seems, was that I was trying to move too many things. Dissipation was my middle name.

No more.

Sometimes it feels as if I am the only person in the known world not listening to the mould-breaking podcast Serial. I'm not. In fact only about 1.5 million people downloaded the show each week, but that still broke all records for a podcast. One reason I didn't subscribe is that I'm listening to so much else already that unheard episodes would just pile on the guilt, and one of those other shows I listen to gave me a peculiar, vicarious thrill this morning. Enough of a thrill to rouse me from my blogging torpor.