It’s just crossed my mind that I can probably no longer safely stand on my head. I was taught to do so nearly fifty years ago by a young woman whose name was, I think, Jill, and who was a Universal Aunt engaged as a child sitter for me. We lived in Nevern Square in Kensington and my mother worked at the BBC. I remember nothing about Jill other than she taught me to wrap my legs into a full lotus position (which I can still manage with ease) and that she taught me to stand on my head. Considering this all happened in the space of one evening, I think that represents aremarkable return on investment on my parents’ part, although my mother’s scandalised expression upong hearing how our evening had been spent was a delight beyond the price of rubies to me!