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Here I sit, pondering life and how amazing it is, and why I, at my age, find it so much more interesting than 17 year

Three perimenopausal women: Speak complete gibberish, Hear with difficulty and See only with glasses (Biggles, Upper and me), went for a cultural weekend in Stratford

Conkers, Clonkers, Prickly gonads in frilly leaf underwear, Waiting to drop. Suspended reminders, That these balmy, aimless, dreaming days, Face warmed, Bird song, Will die,

Boy to male Teaching Assistant, peering at the badge describing his name and position “Does that say Teaching Assassin?”

Child 1 “I like your top miss” Miss (rather flattered) “Thank you, I like it too, it has pretty flowers doesn’t it?” Child 2 “I

Me “What did you do at school today?” Mavis “Can’t arember” Me “Did you do any reading” Mavis “No” Me “How about numbers” Mavis “No”