It's Hard To Be Responsible, Adult And

It's Hard To Visualize The Toys You Had Fifty Years Ago - All Save Bear. He's As Clear As If He Were Sitting On The Desk In Front Of You...of Course...he Probably Is.

A Younger Sister Is Someone To Use As A Guinea-pig In Trying Sledges And Experimental Go-carts. Someone To Send On Messages To Mum. But Someone Who Needs You - Who Comes To You With Bumped Heads, Grazed Knees, Tales Of Persecution. Someone Who Trusts You To Defend Her. Someone Who Thinks You Know The Answers To Almost Everything.

Sisters Don't Need Words. They Have Perfected A Language Of Snarls And Smiles And Frowns And Winks - Expressions Of Shocked Surprise And Incredulity And Disbelief. Sniffs And Snorts And Gasps And Sighs - That Can Undermine Any Tale You're Telling.

Human Beings Are Drawn To Cats Because They Are All We Are Not — Self-contained, Elegant In Everything They Do, Relaxed, Assured, Glad Of Company, Yet Still Possessing Secret Lives.

It Should Be Possible To Exist With Only A Short Shelf Of Books, To Read And Give Away. After All - We May Not Open A Book, Once Read, For Ten Years Or More. But The Act Of Reading Has Made It Part Of Us - To Relinquish It Would Be To Lose An Extension Of Our Being.