During the school holidays I would sit in the gutter out the front of Mum and Dad’s house at South Plympton and wish for lots of things.
I wished I was older, I wished time would go quicker. I wished I was back at school.
I wished the baker and his horse would pass by. Remember, those freshly baked loaves that had hot doughy centres.
Yummy! No sliced bread in those days.
I wished I had a pair of fluorescent glow in the dark socks. Lime green was the colour I wanted and when I got them I was too frightened to wear them.
I was too worried I would get a rock in the back of the head on my way home from the local Deli just for wearing them.
But most of all I wished the newsagent would hurry up each Thursday afternoon around 5 0’clock and deliver my precious copy of the British “Eagle” Magazine for boys.
I would rush in to my room and read up on the latest exploits of Dan Dare (science fiction) and P.C. 49 (He was a kindly British Copper).