When, however, one reads of a witch being ducked, of a woman possessed by devils, of a wise woman selling herbs, or even of a very remarkable man who had a mother, then I think we are on the track of a lost novelist, a suppressed poet, of some mute and inglorious Jane Austen, some Emily Bronte who dashed her brains out on the moor or mopped and mowed about the highways crazed with the torture that her gift had put her to. Indeed, I would venture to guess that Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman.

At times it's as if the Silicon Valley inmates are running the VC asylum. But what might seem like unicorn-crazed chaos from the outside looking in is actually carefully structured.

It's a funny thing - when I'm crazed with work spending time with my children relaxes me. Yet at the end of a long weekend with them the very thing I need to relax is a little work and time away from them!