As if the leaves turning colour, the ripe brambles in the hedgerows and the ‘Back To School’ adverts weren’t enough of a clue, it’s there on the calendar: Autumn is upon us!
I have a love-hate relationship with the turn of the seasons (excitement coupled with sadness at the evidence of time passing) and autumn makes me especially nostalgic/weepy/odd.
Still, we enjoyed the last day of summer in high style. Yesterday, we headed to the Scottish Owl Centre (prepare for an onslaught of owl photos and facts!) and had (probably) the last picnic of 2014. It was properly warm in the sunshine and, as you see from the snap, the sky was bright blue. Bliss!
I also did exactly ZERO writing. In fact, I didn’t even open the netbook… It’s this new thing I’m trying: Taking proper weekends.
I’ve been fitting in writing and freelance work around motherhood for fourteen years, now, and some of my habits are no longer necessary. In the past I had to work in any available moment, because they were so few and far between. These days, I spend Monday to Friday in my office, almost like a normal job.
As a true writing obsessive, I’m also hoping that by taking weekends off, I’ll be more focused and productive on my work days.
I don’t expect to always manage it – when I’m on deadline, for example, or deep in a WIP when I want to write everyday, regardless – but I’ve realised that I’ve got to stop treating every day as a sprint to the finish line.
After all, I want to do this for the rest of my life; I need to pace myself or I’m not going to last the distance.