greased lightening

When my husband and I met, nearly 17 years ago, we both had very cool vintage cars. He had a cute-as-a-box-of-buttons Morris Minor in British Racing Green and I had a grey and white Vauxhaul Kresta {just like this one with fins, whitewall tyres, red leather interior and hydromatic transmission...}. Such. A. Damned. Cool. Car.

We moved in together after six months and, as we were both at Uni, decided we only needed one car. Sadly, my car needed extensive work so the Morris won. It was a great little car - so damned cute. No seatbelts though so when we moved to Sydney and would regularly drive the Sydney-Newcastle freeway we were totally putting our lives out there.

When I fell pregnant we had to get a sensible car. One with seat belts. So we had to sell our little Morris. Luckily it went to a good home and we sometimes see it tootling around Morpeth up in the Hunter Valley. Nice home.

Now we've both got a craving for another vintage car. A vintage ute to be exact. I saw a gorgeous powder-blue Holden the other day that set my heart-a-fluttering. If our first car's a sensible modern option surely we can have a funky second car?