I wonder how many of us are finding our other selves as we sort through our closets...so far I am facing it with amusement...and coping.

People are good...I knew it already but it has been confirmed after three phone calls to ask if I needed anything.

I find it profoundly unfair that every time I wash my hands I have to sing happy birthday to myself twice in a month which is my birthday and which I will not be able to celebrate! By then all the chocolate cake will probably be gone!

I am in isolation! And so...I am tidying up...I found this password: Whatever123. I was obviously irritated...trouble is I don't know what it is a password for! It's rather good when I come to think of it.

My father was a minister; my mother was the music director. There were moments when they did not agree! One Sunday I was sitting in church and from the choir pit at collection came the sound of Danny Boy with tremolo…big time tremolo. Now that was not in fashion! I cringed. The woman beside me was more expressive. She swore. I won’t use the language. I looked at her in surprise and she said: “Every time she does that, I cry.” The funny part was that I don’t think she knew that the woman doing that was my mother. And she would have no idea that she was doing that to bug my father! Tales from the pulpit twenty years later. That’s what we should do…start collecting story fragments.