IN YEARS past, one of Vintage Weekend's most enthusiastic fans was my mum.
Weeks beforehand, she would rummage through boxes of fabrics and other such treasures and knock out some amazing period costume. She was an accomplished seamstress and certainly had a flair for the theatrical.
Along with her good friend, Banjo Dave, mum would sing tunes from yesteryear to entertain whoever cared to listen. She was no Vera Lynn, but her enthusiasm and zest for fun was evident.
Mum's not around to attend any more Vintage Weekends. But she would have enjoyed this year's, that's for sure.
I thought of her as we walked down the Avenue on Saturday, inspecting with great admiration and more than a little jealousy the magnificent classic and vintage cars. Three city blocks' worth -- how splendidly it has grown.