If you’d asked me four months ago, before I knew that by now I’d be working for myself, from home, day-in day-out, what my regular freelance week might be like, I’d probably have said quite relaxed.

A day or so pitching for work, another couple of days doing it, and then maybe a couple of days of pottering around, playing with the chickens or heading out for a walk.

It’s not been like that at all. The fact I’ve been so bad at blogging in the last two and a half months is testament to that fact. Most of my working weeks have been six days long apiece. I’ve not yet had time to plant any new crops in the plot. I’ve been on maybe two walks the whole year, and both of them were at weekends.

But I wouldn’t change it.

I got into mags to write, and that’s almost all I’m doing right now. I’m very fortunate to have plenty of work coming in, and while I hunt for the happy medium I’m taking on some great commissions – jobs that give me an opportunity to properly research a subject, which I haven’t had time to do in as much depth as I would have liked for quite some time.

It would still be nice to find time for those walks, or to see the chickens from closer at hand than the study window, but while the weather isn’t so good, perhaps now is the time to make hay, so that when the sun shines it might already be bailed.