Move Over Julia
Above: Julia Child at Le Cordon Bleu in 1950. As a child I watched her on Saturday afternoons with my grandmother
Above: Julia Child at Le Cordon Bleu in 1950. As a child I watched her on Saturday afternoons with my grandmother.
You always want your children to have it better than you did.
By and large life has been pretty good to me, but like everyone else, I entertain the odd fantasy about what I would do if I won the lottery and found myself free to hop off the path that got me here, free to do something quite different.
In my mid teens, there was the odd, fleeting fantasy of becoming a concert cellist. I prepared myself for this by not practising. This is like training for a marathon without so much as the odd long walk. Some might manage it. I, patently, was not among them.
I traveled in my gap year, sometimes picturing my future as a lone wolf journalist, always moving from trouble spot to trouble…
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