This is how my husband likes to waste time, he has told me about it so many times that I know the time he wastes doing this is close to his heart. I think this sort of time wasting is certainly within the spirit of what Brian Turner was talking about in your 'Books' feature (Sunday Star * Times - August 10th)
Below is a description of how he wastes time which I copied from his BlogSpot when he wasn't around, he says it best, but I diagnose best how this waste of time enriches his very being.
"Sailing is at the heart of what I love to do. It's not just the sailing itself which as an activity and sensation is to me poetry in motion, it is the associated peripheral things, which when gathered together make for a pleasing and enchanting whole. To steer her up the coast hard on the wind, at the tiller hour after hour thinking only of the relationship of the angle of the Genoa jib to the eye of the wind and to exult in the way the boat cleaves herself through the waves; or to run downwind like smoke feeling her make use of each wave, is to be immersed in and aware of every interaction of the boat with its environment. To do this is to enter into a meditation of sorts, it is a way for me to be entirely in the present moment and I rejoice in that. For me, experiencing the many moods of the sea is a blessing. Each time it is as if I am experiencing it for the very first time. The wind, the waves, the sky all have an elemental cadence to them.Watching a mirror like calm change to the spindrift blown spray of forty knots or more of wind and wave, and to sail through all this after reefing her well down and watching the destination grow slowly larger on a bright or hazy horizon, for me is being immersed in contentment itself.Then the safe harbour, the snug anchorage, rowing ashore, pulling the trusty dinghy up on the beach. The walks along the beach and climbing a hill to look down at the boat now a toy anchored contentedly in the bay below. At night the meal shared, to lights reflected in varnished mahogany and the warm glow of conversation and camaraderie - and the stars. Not just any old stars - sailing stars, high, high, high stars clear and bright, bright, bright, away from the pollution of the city. The whole sweep of the Milky Way and the cosmos - and as the chill of the night comes, seeking the cosy haven below in a little cabin made for reflection, reading, meditation and contentment.But you must remember this, the nuances of sailing are a life's work, it is always a work in progress and it doesn't suit a plastic caravan mentality, for you see wooden yachts are living things and if you are very quiet and listen carefully they will reveal to you their secrets"