From The Desk Of…stationery Addict
As a kid, one of my greatest treats was to visit WHSmith in town. Way back in the days before tragedies like little Jamie Bulger being snatched, my Dad would leave me in WHS, under the watchful eye of the friendly security guard while Dad went off and stood in the endless queue in the nearby bank on a Saturday morning. The racks and rows of stationery supplies enchanted me – maybe an early symptom of the writing career I’d try to forge as a so-called grown up…Even as I got older, I’d spend as much of my allowance on postcards, p...