The time to relax is when you don't have time for it.

Oh, sort it out for yourselves, guys - I don't know whether Jim Goodwin or Sydney J. Harris said this first and frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.

I haven't got the time.

I honestly DID make the time to relax today, knowing I've got a shedload of work to do as well.

Careful planning. Check with Peter what he's going to do today. He says, 'Relax.'  'All day?' 'Yes, all day.'

Okay - so I'll have an extra long ride on the forest to unwind, then when I get home, I'll crack on with my work.

Imagine my delight when I got home after my extra long ride on the forest to unwind to find that Peter had decided NOT to relax after all but to cut the hedge, leaving mountains and mountains of hedge trimmings to clear up.

 Which took me two hours.

Please don't get me wrong. The hedge needs cutting and it's a job that we can share - and Peter should not at all be expected to do it on his own.

BUT...I wouldn't have had my extra long ride on the forest to unwind if I'd known that I was coming home to two hours clearing up hedge trimmings.

Do I feel relaxed and unwound, ready for several hours work?

Just smile, Caroline...

Screenplay Writing: “Don’t let yesterday use up too much of today.”

 Not, I'm fairly certain, applied to writing screenplays or, in this case, NOT writing screenplays...

After the triumph that was Thursday, I reaped the rewards yesterday, rewards being a euphemistic word for...the opposite of rewards.

No internet = no emails = no access to work coming in = backlog of work with silly deadlines, made even sillier by the fact that I didn't see them until Thursday night.

SO - yesterday was spent chasing my tail.

I did a massive amount of work for three separate clients. A massive amount of work, none of which was writing my screenplay.

Today promised to be one that I spent castigating myself about yesterday.

How much of a waste of time is THAT?

(Here's a clue: It's an ENORMOUS waste of time)

Day 3 Update
½ a new page (Aaaaaaargh!) BUT...I did interview someone at length about all the technical information I need in order to make the script credible, so that was progress, of sorts. (I apologise for being enigmatic but the script is meant to be submitted anonymously so I can't be specific here.)


I have some fabulous excuses for not writing today...

Watch me wriggle tomorrow!

On acknowledgement for hard work: Gratitude is the most exquisite form of courtesy

Jacques Maritain (French Catholic Philosopher) and me could be best buddies. If only he weren't dead.

We both think gratitude is important.

I'm truly grateful for the work I do. I know how fortunate I am to be at home all day writing interesting and diverse pieces for some great clients. 


At the same time, I DO work very hard. 


Going back to yesterday, on meeting deadlines...


I actually finished the work I had to complete at half past three. I THOUGHT. Well, I DID finish it and sent it off, explaining I was catching a train to London at 5 o'clock. Hooray, I thought. I'll have time for a shower and something to eat before I go. Then the phone went... "Caroline, I know you're heading off at 5 but could you just...?"  


I worked on the train. I worked in Pret A Manger (other eating places available) while stuffing a sandwich down my face. I worked in the open-air theatre while waiting for A Midsummer's Night Dream to start. I worked in the interval, and when we got home at 12.30 a.m. I worked until 2.30 a.m. And got it done.

The thing is, I don't mind working so frantically hard for someone who appreciates it and takes time to tell me. I had an e-mail last night. Here is part of it (NOT repeated for the purposes of making me look good but to illustrate why I love what I do)

"Just wanted to say thanks – you have been absolutely bloody ace in your stoic and unstinting support throughout the course of this challenging project – I’m personally under a lot of pressure to deliver not only this tender, but three other important interim campaigns in store... 

I am grateful that your appreciation of the situation and dedication to turnaround has been so incredible. Without it, in the timelines we have been working towards, I would simply be dead in the water.

Big respect. "

This is a lesson in how to motivate co-workers. Bosses everywhere take note. (Not MINE - I'm lucky enough to work with three exceptionally switched on people who DO acknowledge hard work.)

Mind you, I'm a bit knackered today...

Your work is to discover your world and then with all your heart give yourself to it.

That's quite a job description...

A whole lot more inspiring than 'Your work is to write corporate copy,' or 'Your work is to empty the dishwasher and dust the mantelpiece.'

Those things are in my world though, as much as galloping Alfie across Ashdown Forest in the early morning mist, or enjoying an evening meal outside with Pete and Tim, or watching the rabbits nibbling the lawn, or writing a screenplay that is a true expression of my creativity...

I've discovered my world

...and I love it.

Your idea of bliss is to wake up on a Monday morning knowing you haven't a single engagement for the entire week.

"... You are cradled in a white paper cocoon tied up with typewriter ribbon.”

WRONG, Edna Ferber!

Wrong about my idea of bliss and Wrong about being cradled in a white cocoon tied up with typewriter ribbon.

I've already shown you what I wear when writing.



My idea of bliss is to wake up on a Monday morning and know I've got lots of work - work that I enjoy doing, which is most of it - but also that my brain is firing on all cylinders so that I'll have a little mental energy left for my own creative writing at the end of the day.

As a freelance writer, the thought of no engagements all week is a little scary...both worrying about where the next pay cheque is coming from...

 ...and knowing that a) I'll have to do some more hustling for commissions and b) I have no excuses NOT to get on with my own writing.

Work-work (as I call it) is a GREAT excuse to explain away lack of creativity.

The trouble is, I don't believe my own excuses anymore. I am CONTEMPTUOUS of such excuses.

A bee is never as busy as it seems; it's just that it can't buzz any slower.

Kin Hubbard said this. He was an American cartoonist (1868-1930) and, if you're wondering, as I was, why he has such an unusual name - it's because it's his pen name. His full name is Frank McKinney Hubbard which is a bit of a mouthful.

I disagree with his thoughts on bees.

Did I tell you we now have forty thousand pets? Well, forty thousand and three if you count Alfie, Poppy and Roly. (To me, however, the dog and horses are members of the family)

Peter has started bee-keeping.

No, that's not a HazMat suit he's wearing.

Forty thousand is an approximation. We haven't counted them. Nor have we given them names. I would if I could. Oh - the queen bee is called Queen Bee.

You can see the little white grubs in the lower cells. Our bee babies.

Bees are fascinating to watch, working so selflessly for the good of their community. I actually find it quite moving...and the beautiful symmetry of their honeycomb is a wonder to behold.We're looking forward to the honey next year though to me it seems hardly fair to take it away from them.

Our bees are FRIENDLY bees. Just don't stand in the middle of their flightpath, which hasn't yet deviated  from diagonally across the garden towards the flowerbeds. They have perfect lane control on their aerial motorway.

While I don't like the word 'ought' - I love the rest of this quote from Marcus Aurelius.

"We ought to do good to others as simply as a horse runs, or a bee makes honey, or a vine bears grapes season after season without thinking of the grapes it has borne."

We have a grape vine too. He DOES have a name. He's called David, after David Vine, the sports commentator.

I don't name the grapes individually though. That would make them difficult to eat without terrible feelings of guilt.

You must look within for value, but must look beyond for perspective.

That's the sort of quote you might expect from someone who's written books called The Psychology of Winning and Psychology of Success. He's called Denis Waitley, by the way, and I must very grudgingly admit that he's right and that I should listen to his words of wisdom.

Yep, Flimsy is my middle name.

I think it's partly to do with working from home. Some days I don't speak to anyone at all from the moment I sit down at my desk until the time Peter gets home from work.

My brain is a fertile place for growing doubt about my competence. There's no one around to tell me to stop.

That's why it was good, yesterday, to go into work, to meet with my boss, to discover that my writing was valued, to be offered more work, to be told that it was lovely to see me because I smiled...

So, Denis, I failed, didn't I? Actually, I HALF failed because I sought acknowledgement from someone else but that did have the result of giving me some perspective about myself and the way I keep hold of the idea that I'm useless.

Perhaps if I had Jellymeat Whiskas for lunch (other brands available) I might begin to think like that cat?

Perhaps...