I can feel the wind is changing. When it does, a part of me may go away, and a new one will settle.

It's happened before. I call it the Mary Poppins Syndrome.

The silly thing is... I do not analyse things; I merely chew them over. I do not address problems; I simply worry about them.

Until the wind changes.

Then the umbrella comes out, and the all-containing suitcase.

Only, this time I shall concentrate on the settling, not on the flying away.

My children love the Mary Poppins in me; the trick is to substitute the discarded part with a really interesting, happier one.

Get that umbrella. It's stormy.