Sunday, November 18, 2007

I am in love!!!


Well here she is. The car of my dreams. The only car I have ever really had any feelings for prior to this Chrysler Crossfire, is the Golf GTi - the 1980's version. But even those vague stirrings of lust pale into insignificance beside this one.



I first met a Crossfire in Borders car park. You know that moment when you see a cute guy across the room and you get a full minute to check him out and really appreciate his cuteness, and your heart starts to palpitate? Well that was how I felt when I saw my first Crossfire. I was smitten.

I've had a picture of a Crossfire on my dream board ever since. I spot one on the road and smile to myself. But then they also started appearing closer to home. A friend of a friend has one, and I sat in it.

Then just recently a friend and her hubby bought one. Last week she brought it down and we went off to an event in it. I have an image of that Crossfire parked on my drive imprinted on my memory. It looked so perfect and so at home.


So I had to do it. I had to drive one. I booked the test drive with some anticipation. By the time I got to the showroom on Saturday I was alive with excitement. I was tingling when Stefan handed over the key and said, 'I'll see you in half an hour then; go play'.


I took her gently out of the showroom car park and played tentatively with the pedals and gears. I was pleasantly surprised. She was very solid on the road, responsive but not trigger happy. Together we strolled down the Lincoln by pass until we got to the dual carriageway. Then I went for a little gutsy acceleration; a tiny roar, nothing too showy. Just enough to glide smoothly past half a dozen cars and cruise up to 70 mph. She purred, and so did I.


We sat effortlessly at 70 ish, slowing for the roundabout... then a quick spurt.... then easing off. I didn't want to go too fast, just because I didn't want it to be over. I wasn't just smitten; now I was totally besotted. I could feel that heady mix of excitement, anticipation and longing that comes when you are completely in lust and the object of your desire is just about to walk through the door. And there was no holding back. Knowing that she would lap up every word of love I poured out to her, I told her everything. I told her of my excitement that she would soon be in my life permanently, how much I loved her, how much I longed to have her in my driveway, how I so wanted our togetherness.

I did think I might be getting a little carried away, but she really did evoke that intensity of emotion. I could feel that tightness in my chest, the tingling, the light headedness. And I still can as I write.

We pulled off the A46 and went over the bridge to rejoin it on the opposite side. We waited patiently for a Range Rover to pass and pulled out behind him. Then we just had to go for it. I dropped a gear, touched the gas and eased her into the adjacent lane. Seconds later he was but a speck in the rear view. We giggled like a pair of naughty school girls. It was better than sex!!Then we calmed down a little, not wanting the moment to end. We cruised smugly back to the showroom.

'How was it', said Stefan?

'I am in love,' I breathed the words with that deep, almost primal tone that comes from the guts not the throat.

'Well just let me know when you are ready', he smiled, with that knowing smile that says I am not the first person, male or female, to have melted on his desk after driving the Crossfire. Nor were mine the first fingers he had to prise apart to get the key back.


Bless you Stefan, we will meet again; only next time I'll be keeping that key!







Tuesday, November 06, 2007

George is in Vogue



According to Anna-Marie Solowji, Beauty and Health Director at Vogue 'The fashion pack go nowhere without their pedigree chums - and the Jack Russell is the breed of choice'.

Whooppeee George is in fashion... and therefore so am I?

We are in good company it seems, Jacks are favoured by miliner Philip Treacy, the legendary Karl Lagerfeld, Prince Charles and Goldie Hawn. Litereary greats William Faulkner and Tom Wolfe also owned Jack Russells.

A Jack has even been featured on the cover of Vogue, shot, apparently, by Peter Lindbergh. Hopefully the only shooting was with a camera!