The Trouble With Sharing One's Bed With

Sisters Annoy, Interfere, Criticize. Indulge In Monumental Sulks, In Huffs, In Snide Remarks. Borrow. Break. Monopolize The Bathroom. Are Always Underfoot. But If Catastrophe Should Strike, Sisters Are There. Defending You Against All Comers.

For Sheer Excitement You Can Keep Movie Premieres And Roller-coasters . An Empty White Canvas Waiting To Be Filled. That's The Thing.

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.

We Have Become A Society Where The Artist Is Regarded As A Self-indulgent Superfluity, And The Person Who Juggles Stocks And Shares Is An Essential Part Of The Economy.

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.