Probably when our children were small, which is not to say I am unhappy now.

In the first lockdown. Obviously, there was terrible grief and sadness and fear around, but there was also this reclaiming for nature. I was constantly at my allotment with the big kids and my husband.

When I was raising my children.

Let's see. Well, kind of every day. Like I said, it doesn't go away - this is a sort of a thing you carry around with you. I like isolation. I've been isolated, you know, for six months or seven months now, however long it's been. At the same time, you can be happy inside and still worried about the world. I'm worried about the world as it is right now, so many people suffering and so much negativity.

I would like to die in good health, at an old age, in a house on a mountain that looks out over the ocean, dreaming about everyone and everything I have had the impossible good fortune to have loved. Maybe Ralph Stanley is singing “Angel Band.”

Perfection is a second-rate idea. I would guess, however, that perfected happiness would be joy, the most intricate and mercurial of all sensations. The moment one recognizes joy, it flees. I’m not sure where Proust is going with this line of questioning, and I don’t want to be evasive, so I will say my idea of perfect happiness is the end of economics; we grow like flowers and fly like birds; the lion lays down with the lamb—a ridiculous idea.