I should be so lucky
From an early age my Christmas wish list contained an Aston Martin. Scale models, obviously – my family were not financial wizards. As time moved on and lascivious tastes deepened, the marque remained a written talisman alongside a diminutive Australian singer from a soap opera – neither sadly entering my world – I cannot have been good that year.
Other childhood plans also became dashed on the floor of reality. I would never Continue reading “Christmas Fantasies, Shattered Dreams”