Well howdy everyone and what are you doing on this Bank Holiday Monday? I am doing a fair bit of mooching in between cleaning bits and bobs that never get cleaned; then we’re going into town to look at the cathedral. As far as I know it’s still there…
Bank Holidays are always a problem. It’s a holiday, so you wanna do something with it – but the question is what? Even if we had a car, a trip to the coast would be out of the question because the weather’s not great and no doubt the roads will be jammed. We could go somewhere closer, such as Bradgate Park, except that since they stopped the bus service you can’t get within about three miles of it: plus holiday buses are few and far between. Not that you’d get Mark on a bus – not in this life. I wouldn’t mind so much but he’s against having a car for environmental reasons. Fair enough, but then he doesn’t ride a bike either, which is definitely not fair enough.
So usually I end up cleaning or gardening or hanging out reading and drinking wine or going for a walk somewhere closer. On Saturday I walked down to our local park. It’s called Knighton Park and has just about everything you’d want in an urban space. From most of it you can’t see the road or houses so you can forget you’re in a city: it has lots of trees, play areas, open spaces, a stream, wild areas and a spinney which is open on Sundays and staffed by volunteers. I would have gone yesterday had I not had a prior engagement.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. This woman works from home; she’s self-employed, so what do bank holidays mean to her?
Well, you’re right – but I’ve decided that what works for me at the moment is to be more or less in step with the rest of the world. So I basically work office hours: Monday to Friday, 9-ish to 5-ish, and I take bank holidays off. There are some practical reasons for this, in that a lot of my friends get bank holidays off too (I’m meeting one of them later.) But mainly it helps me to feel that I am engaged with society on a wider level; something I don’t get to feel very much in my work. Maybe when I’m more successful I’ll work weirder hours; although somehow I doubt I’ll ever be the sort of writer who stays up till dawn and sleeps till the afternoon. Or vice versa. It just doesn’t suit me.
Most writers – or so we surmise – hate interruptions. I positively long for them. Person from Porlock? Yes, please! I’d like a whole delegation from Porlock.