The one Bach piece I learnt made me feel I was being repeatedly hit on the head with a teaspoon.

I found it quite easy to carry on a casual conversation it was as if my real feelings were down fathoms deep in my mind and what we said was just a feathery surface spray.

And who says you always have to understand things? You can like them without understanding them -- like 'em better sometimes.

My hand is very tired but I want to go on writing. I keep resting and thinking. All day I have been two people - the me imprisoned in yesterday and the me out here on the mound; and now there is a third me trying to get in - the me in what is going to happen next.

Am I really admitting that my sister is determined to marry a man she has only seen once and doesn't much like the look of? It is half real and half pretense - and I have an idea that it is a game most girls play when they meet an eligible young men. They just...wonder.

Oh, comfortable cocoa!

Stew's so comforting on a rainy day.