This post is merely an open letter to my brother. Whilst it appears easily within the capabilities of modern technology for a group of junior school kids on the far side of Bradford to have a face-to-face question and answer session with Tim Peake who is hurtling around the earth in the Space Station, I am still finding it difficult to send an image to my brother who is a few thousand miles away in Dominica. So given that he can easily get my blog posts, I thought the best thing to do was to use the blog to send him the letter I meant to send him. As this will be of little interest to anyone else you can skip the rest of this post - although on mature reflection I suspect that a lot of what I write here is of little interest to anyone else, but - at the same time - who can resist picking up and reading a letter they find dropped in the gutter?
Hope you are well and have not been eaten by snakes or fallen down a ravine or succumbed to any of the other dangers that clearly confront anyone silly enough to travel further west than Todmorden. We are all fine here, although I become increasingly sure that my legs are going the way Uncle Wilf's went just before he had his funny turn. I was scanning some old negatives the other day and I came across this one of your good self and I was curious to find out whether you could recognise the location (and/or the date)? Have you noticed how my photographs and your image seems to have turned sepia with the passing of the years?
As ever, your brother,