Quite why my auld Irish mammy kept this with her bits and bobs is beyond me. But there it was, when I was going through her stuff, after she died. Perhaps it was a reminder of the last proper Christmas we had as a family. Certainly, it’s a reminder of when things were much simpler. I hate to think of the catalogue that kids present to their parents these days. Anyway, Christmas 1971 saw me composing an ode to Santa.
That’s a grand total of two things, only one of which I got. And it wasn’t a bike!
PS – Santa – if you see this, I’ve flitted since 1971. So, if you’ve got a bike for me this year, email for my new address. Thanks.
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