Why can't my mother choose how she dies?

She is very grateful for the wonderful life she has had; but now she has had enough of it.

Her beloved husband died three years ago, her friends are gone and her body doesn't work properly any more.

She would very much like to follow Sir Edward and Lady Downes, the conductor and his wife who died at Dignitas, the Swiss assisted-suicide clinic last week, but she is too weak to go to Switzerland alone and as the law stands anybody who helps her can be prosecuted.

She believes passionately that the Government should allow assisted suicide in this country, and is certain that she is not alone.

When my mother first raised this issue, I was horrified. I love my mother very much, as do all her children. We have no desire to see her dead.

What's more, I thought, if the law is liberalised to allow Dignitas to operate in Britain, plenty of less-fond children would probably nudge their crumbling parents towards the exit. "Come on, Mum, it can't be much fun any more; besides, if your cash goes in care-home costs, how am I going to pay the school fees?"

But ever since my stepfather died, my mother has been determined that she should be allowed to do this and I have come round to her point of view.

People's lives are their own and they should be allowed to do as they wish with them. The risks of abuse can be minimised.

One way is the Swiss approach: aiding suicide there is permissible only if there is no financial gain. Anybody who makes money by doing so can be prosecuted.

Another is to require the approval of one or more doctors, and a "cooling-off period" so that people don't choose to die because of some transient unhappiness.

What's more, the risks of abuse are greatly outweighed by the suffering that the existing law imposes on people who are denied the help they crave.

Suicide without assistance is not an option for most of them, for the bedridden cannot wash, let alone kill themselves, without assistance. And there are many of them.

Last week, in Chelsea and Westminster Hospital, my mother explained to one of the doctors why she didn't want any more of the painful procedures they were planning to carry out on her. "You're not alone," he said. "There are plenty of people like you."

The more I talk to people about this subject, the more awful stories I hear of people who have tried to kill themselves and failed, and lived on in misery and suffering.

My mother is certain that the law will eventually change. As the population ages, the cost of keeping the very old alive will become unbearable.

Society will eventually decide that it can't afford what it regards as respect for the sanctity of life and she regards as moral cowardice. But that change will come too late for her.

I'm flat-out for festivals

Yet another festival last weekend: Latitude, in Suffolk, with Grace Jones, the Pet Shop Boys and Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. I'm delighted by the proliferation of music festivals.

I never go to them; but whenever, sitting comfortably on my sofa listening to music on my iPod, I see pictures of crowds of festival-goers who have to trek half a mile through a marsh to find an overflowing loo, I feel good just because I'm not there.

Evidence that the 1970s are back is mounting. Unemployment is soaring, a shaky Labour government has lost control of the nation's finances, steelworkers are striking to keep their factory open and now squatters are moving in to swanky properties all over London.

Although the last of these has a certain appeal, as rows of Russian-owned properties lie empty for months or years on end, it's not a great idea.

Last time around, large-scale squatting helped discourage investment in property, which made our city Europe's shabbiest capital for 20 years.

A simple way to save more cyclists

More and more cyclists are dying on the city's roads - 17 last year, compared with eight in 2000.

That's probably partly because more people are cycling these days but also because the construction boom and the Olympics have increased the number of lorries in London.

Lethal accidents commonly happen because lorry drivers can't see who's on the road by the passenger seat.

The Corporation of London is handing out 1,000 safety mirrors to drivers to cut the number of such accidents.

That's a start; but it would be better still to fit lorries with audible sensors — the sort that new cars have to help people like me who are hopeless at parking.

They bleep to warn you if there's something on the road out of your vision.

That would cost around £400 per lorry but the value of the misery avoided would be far greater.