We're Standing On The Deck That's All

Once I Spent A Whole Day There, A Blade Of Grass In Each Hand To Anchor Me To The Warm Earth. I Watched The Sun Rise, Pass Over My Head And Set. Ladybirds Mated On My Knuckle; A Shrew Nibbled A Hole In My Stocking While I Tried Not To Laugh. Such A Day Was Worth Any Punishment.

My Mother Was Wonderfully Out About Her Dementia. She Would Sort Of - She Would Say To Me, I Came Out To The Window Cleaner About Having Dementia. You Know, I Love The Way That Verb For Coming Out Of The Closet Has Now Become So Socially Useful For All Sorts Of Situations, Like When You Need To Explain To The Window Cleaner That You Don't Know If You Paid Him Or Not.

I Think There Are Few Films Out There That Take Motherhood Seriously.

When People Write To Me With Stories, They Are Never Ones That Work For Me. There's Something Mysterious About Which Ones Catch You.

In The World I Notice Persons Are Nearly Always Stressed And Have No Time...i Don't Know How Persons With Jobs Do The Jobs And All The Living As Well...i Guess The Time Gets Spread Very Thin Like Butter All Over The World, The Roads And Houses And Playgrounds And Stores, So There's Only A Little Smear Of Time On Each Place, Then Everyone Has To Hurry On To The Next Bit.