Grr

When I was a kid I would pass under this lion on drives to and from 2 destinations, my old man's workshop or my grandparents. I always had the teeniest suspicion that it could, at any moment, fall down and, by a freak of physics, diagonally move through the air and crush us in the car.

Bless my parents during those car journeys, no seatbelts to restrain us and keep us in check, no ipods or personal/portable dvd players. Just a few packets of boiled sweets, the promise of a trip to Wicksteed park, a bottle of pop with a straw at the local hostelry, or 'I well tell Nanny' to keep us in check.

Trips to my non London resident grandparents was great, not least as they loved near a 'theme park', but they had a Spa shop, which I thought was kinda of exotic (looking back all Spa shops are a touch dull and freaky - half stocked, dusty shelves, and an odd smell about them), the chance to swing on the garden swing seat (often a prize on Bullseye, or Price is Right)loads of food and the chance to tinker about in my Grandads shed. And somewhat specially for me I would sometimes be called 'Fanny' (my Nan's pet name for me...well I am assuming it was a pet name).