I can’t cook up a job with my unusual talents

BEING a writer is a great way to live, but not such a great way of making a living. Unless you’re Jeffrey Archer or JK Rowling, forget it — you won’t ever be in the limited edition queue for a five-grand handbag.

But being a writer, you probably wouldn’t want one anyway — unless maybe you’re Jackie Collins. Meanwhile, back on earth, you write away happily every day and occasionally wonder what you will do if one of those days turns rainy.

“Get a job,” suggests the ten-year-old, after he has accidentally kicked the oven door into a million pieces while abseiling down a kitchen cabinet. No, I don’t know why he was up there either. The insurance people assure me that this is absolutely not covered in our policy.