tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-372918172024-03-16T01:13:09.467+00:00News From NowhereAlan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.comBlogger2780125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-36538443699175727272024-03-11T18:26:00.000+00:002024-03-11T18:26:03.749+00:0011 March 2024 : Paper Hanging<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCDfXw7fJFoVNR7zJHQRWCgDBiCRlhTRvyJ9qLrThTQHnutBs-NMNpGxqND1Y638FnbtZCM1nW_-0BHKbrfpjgj_ZDMFBXdnUjrdZ6bTRt4yi07nxBJZthPAKzO6Mm8XwLiXknrKu4EbpAikehKi5iIVSywN7ZNQ-8zqZFtgvs1qPPrd7SlJYHMw/s2025/2403078cal.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2025" data-original-width="1620" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCDfXw7fJFoVNR7zJHQRWCgDBiCRlhTRvyJ9qLrThTQHnutBs-NMNpGxqND1Y638FnbtZCM1nW_-0BHKbrfpjgj_ZDMFBXdnUjrdZ6bTRt4yi07nxBJZthPAKzO6Mm8XwLiXknrKu4EbpAikehKi5iIVSywN7ZNQ-8zqZFtgvs1qPPrd7SlJYHMw/w512-h640/2403078cal.jpeg" width="512" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><div style="text-align: center;">Some people read the paper, some try and understand the meaning of life, George II and Elvis Presley both died there .... and photographers look for shapes and patterns and textures.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNgYAgrH07ZP3noCA1rSv0qlz_07MLLPbAgh-mTujxof9Oz5qgTtX7vEnZa9U77nch7C4vTg79mH_fmDgFIBrC6BuqjbbouTDevgPw3yYG3fLOAOnsaQ7a_A7H2Lt4RNkzEYzUbf3Lx7k7u_Q7z2ZryNkaAUWSTic2ybIv0KTScTyftha2R2UuAA/s1200/2403078X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNgYAgrH07ZP3noCA1rSv0qlz_07MLLPbAgh-mTujxof9Oz5qgTtX7vEnZa9U77nch7C4vTg79mH_fmDgFIBrC6BuqjbbouTDevgPw3yYG3fLOAOnsaQ7a_A7H2Lt4RNkzEYzUbf3Lx7k7u_Q7z2ZryNkaAUWSTic2ybIv0KTScTyftha2R2UuAA/s320/2403078X.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span><p></p>Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-62242124566000118432024-03-11T18:23:00.004+00:002024-03-11T18:23:35.531+00:00Well Done That Town<div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2irMzhe89Gt1jlWlxa93a40GOM6FsItABDLz5y_pI0cNvj_O43bZYBwfNuJJwS_6cLNql07Je8dcF4SoDdTaA8JICI6oM2W77uT_lZqK20H9WQ2z4sg_4Vrg5Y8yFzM2w5dbE-WgJQ7-OCdRzIGLZ3q78E-3hWhepog8z_sXC_3LQsDQTy4aasg/s1937/2403080.jpeg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="1530" data-original-width="1937" height="504" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2irMzhe89Gt1jlWlxa93a40GOM6FsItABDLz5y_pI0cNvj_O43bZYBwfNuJJwS_6cLNql07Je8dcF4SoDdTaA8JICI6oM2W77uT_lZqK20H9WQ2z4sg_4Vrg5Y8yFzM2w5dbE-WgJQ7-OCdRzIGLZ3q78E-3hWhepog8z_sXC_3LQsDQTy4aasg/w640-h504/2403080.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-large;">The shop names and the shape of the cars may be different, and flat caps and plastic rain hoods abound; but the scene is still recognisable. In many places, the modern equivalent would be a pale shadow of commercial enterprise, but not Brighouse. Well done!</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeVF2pWwo20Smuuw9_3XUbB6SmQ41qMj4FUU5B6f66nXH1dlCwcBEh9yuaUupe8h9zOhnKkU7L49QZ1Rq3AY-0UgO3sQgtP6USVu7hKY7M-JvVgo69nWwpKC5g3_hN8nHQcbIr5y5396YgszNezHFwnoAr1zTASSbEW6uYFLiH4XYvY37Bw0XSJA/s1200/2403080X.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeVF2pWwo20Smuuw9_3XUbB6SmQ41qMj4FUU5B6f66nXH1dlCwcBEh9yuaUupe8h9zOhnKkU7L49QZ1Rq3AY-0UgO3sQgtP6USVu7hKY7M-JvVgo69nWwpKC5g3_hN8nHQcbIr5y5396YgszNezHFwnoAr1zTASSbEW6uYFLiH4XYvY37Bw0XSJA/s320/2403080X.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-69118072227325988912024-03-10T13:50:00.005+00:002024-03-10T13:50:39.077+00:0010th March 2024 : Gladys In The Garden<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiogwtntOhQYei93xe7WbxcA2BNa3RflZCmzLqSHifCUjjXE3VtwjMgZrgv6aoNcRGwjMCdiYXaQSYd3TIuMYBrDQMM75BxDr5fsmmpd2flPEyba_bk9O2N0A46uDFkymv_abn2kSViSh7ajSnzmryCVUL5PxLbsDQHA252oEfSMw94iGERGh1sNQ/s2025/2403076cal.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2025" data-original-width="1620" height="823" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiogwtntOhQYei93xe7WbxcA2BNa3RflZCmzLqSHifCUjjXE3VtwjMgZrgv6aoNcRGwjMCdiYXaQSYd3TIuMYBrDQMM75BxDr5fsmmpd2flPEyba_bk9O2N0A46uDFkymv_abn2kSViSh7ajSnzmryCVUL5PxLbsDQHA252oEfSMw94iGERGh1sNQ/w659-h823/2403076cal.jpeg" width="659" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: 15px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh054zoecCO-qPkutTbzpz1t8qb1y8xJnUaTlvyvIif7GoxZRizVoKDWQQwpe0zK5tnlw85cwfQwzS9odGdK3RoNSh6Qm6WPhWVrlG4cRRFzH1S4PtFj1L9Akl21P3Sha9EAHkcehyphenhypheno1V2jD7gV7UohyphenhyphenjNIrzw0D0O4QkWPx_x_tCMZSCmibwxP6g/s1200/2403076X.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh054zoecCO-qPkutTbzpz1t8qb1y8xJnUaTlvyvIif7GoxZRizVoKDWQQwpe0zK5tnlw85cwfQwzS9odGdK3RoNSh6Qm6WPhWVrlG4cRRFzH1S4PtFj1L9Akl21P3Sha9EAHkcehyphenhypheno1V2jD7gV7UohyphenhyphenjNIrzw0D0O4QkWPx_x_tCMZSCmibwxP6g/w200-h200/2403076X.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;">It's Mother's Day, so who else but my mother, Gladys. This photograph will have been taken sometime around 1953, just after we had moved to Northowram. I would have been about five at the time. What memories, Mam.</span><p></p>Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-78258576849462019682024-03-10T13:47:00.004+00:002024-03-10T13:47:55.603+00:009th March 2024 : The Chauffeur<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHeGXD13ilhUzVeK2xXqpGJIfbUwj0c5K9_ai_9yvQm9FxdCa_a2j6iSO8XsCiIbuPXQipeANYgNJZfaFe7l4Fvw0b3HPzhQOIuZ-S-xcoc5Y6H7W9bKq4p8OcCvBcKox0ZkNovnuU2EdBOL2MVSZzkOPQZ3xS8t-6Mv3LH5R8UL8Onvog2Qwp5g/s2025/2403074cal.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2025" data-original-width="1620" height="797" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHeGXD13ilhUzVeK2xXqpGJIfbUwj0c5K9_ai_9yvQm9FxdCa_a2j6iSO8XsCiIbuPXQipeANYgNJZfaFe7l4Fvw0b3HPzhQOIuZ-S-xcoc5Y6H7W9bKq4p8OcCvBcKox0ZkNovnuU2EdBOL2MVSZzkOPQZ3xS8t-6Mv3LH5R8UL8Onvog2Qwp5g/w638-h797/2403074cal.jpeg" width="638" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvt24T_R_BN0MbHFVaDk-OVJy_KGk33-NP46inZashXygz9pJ9SR6ofxgjlwC8anVlRxruPR97BYlR_UIO1BhomC5lo44ioz4GaAk1Qjk-UdWih79G15yklJRGy2OnB0LkntzCW3ss_sFk0uKBeYYyfwTdNsI-YKvlcVpYIwYyUB6CJs2TYvu2Q/s1200/2403074X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsvt24T_R_BN0MbHFVaDk-OVJy_KGk33-NP46inZashXygz9pJ9SR6ofxgjlwC8anVlRxruPR97BYlR_UIO1BhomC5lo44ioz4GaAk1Qjk-UdWih79G15yklJRGy2OnB0LkntzCW3ss_sFk0uKBeYYyfwTdNsI-YKvlcVpYIwYyUB6CJs2TYvu2Q/w200-h200/2403074X.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><p><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It's said that early photographers were accused of stealing people's souls when they took photographs of them. This, of course, is nonsense as we all know that it is 5G masts and modern vaccines that steal souls. It never ceases to amaze me, however, that for a few pence you can buy an old photo and steal a moment in history.</span></span></p>Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-1641009752864281312024-01-30T23:55:00.002+00:002024-01-30T23:55:12.896+00:00Garden Visitor<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEhI8X7Gz9w3jXoCM9rxw8XX2_U_XhmD4IEH63Puc-nM2VuK9JqNRpzeLh8pmltQVWg-1l70KG4CW_aPSWw53hE00vodZObYXoCRxGAIwKzbI-RqMLPnd45Q9SOautbYWgPGY16GFLpFJSbyMrcouXrw9KFQwnmrhDR77LTeqzl_HVlP8YWJf05A/s2025/2401310cal.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2025" data-original-width="1620" height="818" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEhI8X7Gz9w3jXoCM9rxw8XX2_U_XhmD4IEH63Puc-nM2VuK9JqNRpzeLh8pmltQVWg-1l70KG4CW_aPSWw53hE00vodZObYXoCRxGAIwKzbI-RqMLPnd45Q9SOautbYWgPGY16GFLpFJSbyMrcouXrw9KFQwnmrhDR77LTeqzl_HVlP8YWJf05A/w654-h818/2401310cal.jpeg" width="654" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;">A chance photograph taken through the kitchen window in order to check to see if my Nikon B700 is still working. It is!</div>Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-65900921455204949302024-01-30T23:53:00.005+00:002024-01-30T23:53:37.350+00:00Gala Days #2<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh9RxaFcuk3RYM8a4il5oT74LlPe1rgC6LxX03WpWS9jlGcXlm8fXZhwiV5dvBtLLDZH7nISc829vnPCWDem1R6__Gyhn7h7MomIpfD6wg4Yglr13lwauvMXcyzAS7G3WSmvjF2vcn3YLqpWCOo9A3Z_zuuYj_owfAf0YPpJ3zjOIGckid2cHR5g/s2600/2401302.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2600" data-original-width="1900" height="891" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh9RxaFcuk3RYM8a4il5oT74LlPe1rgC6LxX03WpWS9jlGcXlm8fXZhwiV5dvBtLLDZH7nISc829vnPCWDem1R6__Gyhn7h7MomIpfD6wg4Yglr13lwauvMXcyzAS7G3WSmvjF2vcn3YLqpWCOo9A3Z_zuuYj_owfAf0YPpJ3zjOIGckid2cHR5g/w652-h891/2401302.jpg" width="652" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;">These photos from the 1967 Halifax Charity Gala parade provide an insight not only into the street scenery of the time - there’s Greenwoods, Barratts, and M&S in the right place - but also the way of life of the time. And let’s not forget Pinky and Perky! 2/3</div><p></p>Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-67810058694259443902024-01-30T23:51:00.007+00:002024-01-30T23:51:47.691+00:00Pylons Welcomed<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvw10awA2sSKGmad5J1sdz7koFEn7wwSeCGZtrq4iA9YODx3pehJAZDgSChmdZIYsqZj5VG74uCnOK0z69JTvVAixtf57UWUuO7Ip8ejkYqHm0qmrX8t-D-saqw3RzEgCrhoS7pKYx-gH7CAKJy-rouyTzHBdBHo79KFKGxEssmLqurEJ3rSDX3A/s2025/2401306cal.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2025" data-original-width="1620" height="795" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvw10awA2sSKGmad5J1sdz7koFEn7wwSeCGZtrq4iA9YODx3pehJAZDgSChmdZIYsqZj5VG74uCnOK0z69JTvVAixtf57UWUuO7Ip8ejkYqHm0qmrX8t-D-saqw3RzEgCrhoS7pKYx-gH7CAKJy-rouyTzHBdBHo79KFKGxEssmLqurEJ3rSDX3A/w636-h795/2401306cal.jpeg" width="636" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;">Some folks don’t take kindly to electricity pylons, accusing them of ruining what they believe to be “natural” landscapes. Up here, however, there’s nothing natural about these stone mined hills and mill smoked valleys. Pylons are welcome, any day.</div>Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-34619320437538238412024-01-30T23:50:00.002+00:002024-01-30T23:56:21.700+00:00Gala Days #1<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgplHdcUfmks6IxRLdys8gt6Z1yjl1fWEeB13fcoIO1l8492IcpqICx0oBBPS4MSavfBlapIXfRqj9sx68ivUyrWkkrNeoFFpUdZCBu6O083S__Kb8XN7ZLnDZnsuDYOvd-51ekyXh-asW-J2qIvX0k1LHETo2Z_wpP7wgky6FbiF1i9uoI8fUOtg/s2587/2401300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2587" data-original-width="1900" height="859" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgplHdcUfmks6IxRLdys8gt6Z1yjl1fWEeB13fcoIO1l8492IcpqICx0oBBPS4MSavfBlapIXfRqj9sx68ivUyrWkkrNeoFFpUdZCBu6O083S__Kb8XN7ZLnDZnsuDYOvd-51ekyXh-asW-J2qIvX0k1LHETo2Z_wpP7wgky6FbiF1i9uoI8fUOtg/w632-h859/2401300.jpg" width="632" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: justify;">Back in the summer of 1967 I was about to leave school and take up a promised job as a photographer on the local newspaper. They suggested I should get some practice in before starting work by taking photos at local events. One such was the Halifax Charity Gala parade as it made its way through the streets of Halifax. These are the first two of a series of shots from that day.</span></div>Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-51769465489932262322024-01-29T00:41:00.004+00:002024-01-29T00:41:44.176+00:00Walking Around Egypt<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiATwzq_B4KiiDbq641np2vSiKwFjK29qwWXnlpf2PUW8MMN1gXHM8L8pjb93h1u8mSaRPagR6el78SURzmhyphenhyphenz0QwyIDLAkkwcsnrX25xEj1FWXsSUocfCOv7Gf9Oun9KuOvoKMTKbpKgn1VB1Coff-Tzu30G4bl8WduvWgauvBkFDb1pIV-3jlg/s2025/2401298cal.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2025" data-original-width="1620" height="837" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiATwzq_B4KiiDbq641np2vSiKwFjK29qwWXnlpf2PUW8MMN1gXHM8L8pjb93h1u8mSaRPagR6el78SURzmhyphenhyphenz0QwyIDLAkkwcsnrX25xEj1FWXsSUocfCOv7Gf9Oun9KuOvoKMTKbpKgn1VB1Coff-Tzu30G4bl8WduvWgauvBkFDb1pIV-3jlg/w670-h837/2401298cal.jpeg" width="670" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;">Until we ventured to France in the 1960s, it was my understanding that my father had only ever been abroad once - and that was a day trip to Calais in the 1930s. Thus initially I was surprised to see in his diary for this week in 1934 that he had gone walking around Egypt! The solution was to be found, of course, in the hamlet of Egypt just north of Thornton near Bradford.</div>Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-78242724332131105612024-01-29T00:40:00.000+00:002024-01-29T00:40:02.077+00:00SQBW<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi02D-sydXl1GvtcHsVly-uTp_tFe3anjYXfldTTFeYLz1AlBRBOJdNaleK2CSMDtk4XO_ln0t2FFwUpNstscVWGZ6bo8MRIieEEy0-Sc_MAU7IsSROBKPJIZ0Ru8r_IfVzKp3Ctqjo83MyRA_RRyREl2aeRnRVUhXAmcnIbnt1803BDjVkAQEWWA/s3508/2401292P_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3508" data-original-width="2481" height="880" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi02D-sydXl1GvtcHsVly-uTp_tFe3anjYXfldTTFeYLz1AlBRBOJdNaleK2CSMDtk4XO_ln0t2FFwUpNstscVWGZ6bo8MRIieEEy0-Sc_MAU7IsSROBKPJIZ0Ru8r_IfVzKp3Ctqjo83MyRA_RRyREl2aeRnRVUhXAmcnIbnt1803BDjVkAQEWWA/w618-h880/2401292P_1.jpg" width="618" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Square monochrome photographs seem to be getting quite a following on social media, perhaps it’s time they had their own hashtag. This was St Thomas Church in Greetland near Halifax yesterday. #sqbw</div>Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-54045815293415720402024-01-29T00:37:00.008+00:002024-01-29T00:37:59.455+00:00The Cyclists<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbbbV-oWzc2FihoyFxpuaN8Sc5LVHUqVk0PNbaqLDWlE_tLSSu8Bmc5EKQNZR__vkbNVKpYBcF2mUgbl8PmN064D19JvHCtMP_e5qinvoVD5VtXpwp1TU13fNW8MPv-NdSict3TFE613hidCv_gI8wI7lcfnEHr29bhzO5BJiBHFg9UlqYG1Ljrw/s2025/2401290cal.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2025" data-original-width="1620" height="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbbbV-oWzc2FihoyFxpuaN8Sc5LVHUqVk0PNbaqLDWlE_tLSSu8Bmc5EKQNZR__vkbNVKpYBcF2mUgbl8PmN064D19JvHCtMP_e5qinvoVD5VtXpwp1TU13fNW8MPv-NdSict3TFE613hidCv_gI8wI7lcfnEHr29bhzO5BJiBHFg9UlqYG1Ljrw/w640-h800/2401290cal.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">A few years ago I went through a phase of buying glass plate negatives off eBay. It was a hit or miss pastime as a good proportion of the purchases would arrive in pieces. Luckily this particular image did not suffer that fate and therefore can provide us with an almost perfect phial of pure history.</div>Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-59890672285364059912024-01-29T00:36:00.001+00:002024-01-29T00:36:18.824+00:00Uncle Harry<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCOu5UYlheWkhyphenhyphenVGn03eD586L3SuICZUiKg6i_llFuto1FApmWYDgDFjM7_RL5quhryHCB5xehKAHi_xToGx1-DMFHBaEgjgtM4c4uRPoTWf9ulkArPGZ5-X-7Amdp36lNeES2s3lu4m5E46JnmWEKQttwXpU_8sVEL-kk8JhSBIUcoA4wYXPBvQ/s2025/2401280cal.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2025" data-original-width="1620" height="803" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCOu5UYlheWkhyphenhyphenVGn03eD586L3SuICZUiKg6i_llFuto1FApmWYDgDFjM7_RL5quhryHCB5xehKAHi_xToGx1-DMFHBaEgjgtM4c4uRPoTWf9ulkArPGZ5-X-7Amdp36lNeES2s3lu4m5E46JnmWEKQttwXpU_8sVEL-kk8JhSBIUcoA4wYXPBvQ/w642-h803/2401280cal.jpeg" width="642" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Everyone should have an Uncle Harry in their family. He performed in seaside concert parties in the 1920s and at holiday caravan parks in the 1950s. He played the Working Men's Clubs, grew his hair fashionably long in the 1960s and wore platform shoes to make him look taller. He was frowned upon by the rest of the family, but he had style in bucket-fulls and left memories as grand as any piano.</div>Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-38790064295109837132024-01-29T00:29:00.003+00:002024-01-29T00:29:23.677+00:00Pinball Skidding In Doncaster<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2JsQVi7dioIEfWvBjr5CeV89NpLfxxpN0neqRwwZStt7fllnbeGtZ__XQy3Tt99e4rXIJ3Dq7kRFWMGWQrs__fhkdhiQndoNYGYvvEXq0UWpPalRV2sOyYlJ_WQVS4tacOFBPmdPv9YZ9CCSVWjaNqIm5dVms3MtbcKa9Fw44t64W4V3AZbrJdg/s2025/2401260cal.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2025" data-original-width="1620" height="806" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2JsQVi7dioIEfWvBjr5CeV89NpLfxxpN0neqRwwZStt7fllnbeGtZ__XQy3Tt99e4rXIJ3Dq7kRFWMGWQrs__fhkdhiQndoNYGYvvEXq0UWpPalRV2sOyYlJ_WQVS4tacOFBPmdPv9YZ9CCSVWjaNqIm5dVms3MtbcKa9Fw44t64W4V3AZbrJdg/w646-h806/2401260cal.jpeg" width="646" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I took this photograph in Doncaster Market a few years ago. I think it works rather well as a monochrome image - the lack of colour doesn’t simplify it, it turns it into a pinball machine where your eye is sent skidding from one side to the other.</div>Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-15907415070172337912024-01-29T00:27:00.001+00:002024-01-29T00:27:12.568+00:00Brighouse Market Time Markers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFQ23doAR3DCBRJ7Y2QAWGnl0kZfoEwMd5eCBUK8CAOCsLAEnyvG8DeI5puNPJDGETOyUZxz4gNPvB4ynldTz2mKeCzkiURNU0RdOJLH16usn3bcprtKzG5-sqY-uc0ODY3Ceeb05ycZ7KcFhMgcx1uj1YI-JMJjYVvTRXqFOIJ16rn_wN7sqQEQ/s3508/2401276P_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3508" data-original-width="2481" height="918" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFQ23doAR3DCBRJ7Y2QAWGnl0kZfoEwMd5eCBUK8CAOCsLAEnyvG8DeI5puNPJDGETOyUZxz4gNPvB4ynldTz2mKeCzkiURNU0RdOJLH16usn3bcprtKzG5-sqY-uc0ODY3Ceeb05ycZ7KcFhMgcx1uj1YI-JMJjYVvTRXqFOIJ16rn_wN7sqQEQ/w646-h918/2401276P_1.jpg" width="646" /></a></div><br /><p style="font-family: Arial; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 12px;"><br /></p>Another shot from that same strip of negatives from 50+ years ago. I’d obviously moved on from Bradford Road to the site of the old Brighouse Open Market which, I think, was where the bus station is now. Another shot full of time markers.Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-34038504276928511712024-01-24T15:42:00.005+00:002024-01-24T15:42:44.857+00:00230 For 6<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGViuijuRjrcMn9yAvvMRnHSDPLa3M3YQCD4wLT5eoeHwbOwK9S7RkVfiPbVrYfWKhU5WfAzJzUXNX5tWcfh-C2eeQDXM3A7WbJje4ppIIKMS4pEL5djUT7ZYx2Vy7MSGwNKLtmpdrRiH8F1mNfTQLl7b5fsycMq_feySIVREw8DTpVECC8eKbAA/s2025/2401258cal.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2025" data-original-width="1620" height="721" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGViuijuRjrcMn9yAvvMRnHSDPLa3M3YQCD4wLT5eoeHwbOwK9S7RkVfiPbVrYfWKhU5WfAzJzUXNX5tWcfh-C2eeQDXM3A7WbJje4ppIIKMS4pEL5djUT7ZYx2Vy7MSGwNKLtmpdrRiH8F1mNfTQLl7b5fsycMq_feySIVREw8DTpVECC8eKbAA/w577-h721/2401258cal.jpeg" width="577" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><p></p>This is from an odd little album of some 100 photos from the 1920s and 30s that I bought a few weeks ago. I have no idea where the cricket ground is - but knowing the power of social media, no doubt someone will tell me - along with the date and the name of the batsman - by end of play today.Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-7385558620146884692024-01-24T15:41:00.004+00:002024-01-24T15:41:22.423+00:00Yorkshire Mixture<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI3CCGdCQxHYVQcxGE8sSy0eiSjiKto1wd2umd_U-3-T2Onlb0fMhprm8PC9x63LyhRplX7x2ls4hTvF1l7MWsJdQ6wiZnUKskScDbl_nouLb2EMDPSxDCEIvFnqWhJ0IpS6FvcQwK6nZpAC19vf6sEBxxZndjT2AV2TH0gAv7Z6ES39qJ3XMTIQ/s2000/2401262W.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1593" height="733" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI3CCGdCQxHYVQcxGE8sSy0eiSjiKto1wd2umd_U-3-T2Onlb0fMhprm8PC9x63LyhRplX7x2ls4hTvF1l7MWsJdQ6wiZnUKskScDbl_nouLb2EMDPSxDCEIvFnqWhJ0IpS6FvcQwK6nZpAC19vf6sEBxxZndjT2AV2TH0gAv7Z6ES39qJ3XMTIQ/w584-h733/2401262W.jpg" width="584" /></a></div><p><br /></p>A photo of Halifax taken four years ago rather than forty. What I like about this strange little shot of one of the back yards leading off Horton Street and looking towards Square Church, is that it is a right Yorkshire mixture: dark and light, rough and smooth, formal and informal, work and prayer.<p></p>Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-56015384015340824652024-01-24T15:39:00.003+00:002024-01-24T15:39:29.683+00:00Sky And Wall<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIcrTJc0jbQmqdvNgY8KbirClLe47shyY76S2yUDWIV1qsAXDg4ukaeY56lR6vSCD7WQiLWIc2cd_XRkB53B3qIyYo_3paDgVondC0zo_pwUA8dSAiHMrXWwv0jdMOVIWRu8v-3wCVdy0nQTtenWQ_lM5iomGGthi7-l1V5znKn4vJA5T0lz2yWg/s3508/2401256P_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3508" data-original-width="2481" height="889" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIcrTJc0jbQmqdvNgY8KbirClLe47shyY76S2yUDWIV1qsAXDg4ukaeY56lR6vSCD7WQiLWIc2cd_XRkB53B3qIyYo_3paDgVondC0zo_pwUA8dSAiHMrXWwv0jdMOVIWRu8v-3wCVdy0nQTtenWQ_lM5iomGGthi7-l1V5znKn4vJA5T0lz2yWg/w627-h889/2401256P_1.jpg" width="627" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><p></p>Take a wall in Sheffield rather badly photographed forty years ago and a sky from a Photoshop filter pack. Add a touch of feeling bored and half watching the TV whilst messing about on my computer - and voila!Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-55280098317322652692024-01-24T15:35:00.006+00:002024-01-24T15:35:57.342+00:00Rain Hats And Chocolate<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGTh9JD1pUIE7_C5I3WTgE9uzJE8GqBX0xoET1jfIsqY9iim4ayikp7YVHbpGOLagiFHf60IwUAqWafx6q2XCyc1YKyymzuM7H1YC_Abn8a5bKK43dfAEvqDjMritJrDnhFZaOuKCz0BFBH9PPbicgxqDOWQb_VClK_Yjvu1Hy6P6h5y4ns-gz6g/s3508/2401220P_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3508" data-original-width="2481" height="865" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGTh9JD1pUIE7_C5I3WTgE9uzJE8GqBX0xoET1jfIsqY9iim4ayikp7YVHbpGOLagiFHf60IwUAqWafx6q2XCyc1YKyymzuM7H1YC_Abn8a5bKK43dfAEvqDjMritJrDnhFZaOuKCz0BFBH9PPbicgxqDOWQb_VClK_Yjvu1Hy6P6h5y4ns-gz6g/w610-h865/2401220P_1.jpg" width="610" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Back in the days when the road went straight through, when women wore plastic rain hats, and - if you look carefully - when Cadbury’s chocolate was made from a glass and a half of full cream milk.Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-31518935512296741132024-01-24T15:34:00.002+00:002024-01-24T15:34:19.652+00:00Heading North<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ1uyDOZBDGQpoBWJpo3qDN1zxcmQ5s67-kp4x121pdMVgNOkDhUmgdeyhNDj2WBbfVDG6GtEhWw6jTYY5-2SM2PT5jY7bza6GOL2LtbHqgywDuhe6tJBQd0YNvvMk3jz43jpxllxFNhAEtHxvk_3poewLzUAB72egI-TmaH4icXR_89ISht2Nog/s3508/2401250P_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3508" data-original-width="2481" height="811" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ1uyDOZBDGQpoBWJpo3qDN1zxcmQ5s67-kp4x121pdMVgNOkDhUmgdeyhNDj2WBbfVDG6GtEhWw6jTYY5-2SM2PT5jY7bza6GOL2LtbHqgywDuhe6tJBQd0YNvvMk3jz43jpxllxFNhAEtHxvk_3poewLzUAB72egI-TmaH4icXR_89ISht2Nog/w574-h811/2401250P_1.jpg" width="574" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Several years ago I bought an old photo album at an antique market. It contained photos taken on a cruise of “The Northern Capitals” in 1925. I decided to republish the album as a book with some background notes on the ship, the cruise and the people. This lovely image is comes from that album. The book*, I am astonished to discover, is still available on Amazon! (*“Heading North: A 1925 Photo Album Revisited, Alan Burnett”)</div>Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-32549167536658354742024-01-24T15:30:00.002+00:002024-01-24T15:30:31.895+00:00Skegness 1980<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicKfmmd_E84Fr3kPFI7hUMtp0eYMOogOJHJaOE3yKal6PoBtZYUSROODov-lE5g-bW9LXuw_V-oVxG2tSspw0jBTydPxfA7IUQBNYbqq7HrlxTtTW_EmVvq7TaPFPqk6VA5Itxw1vdsJb_tLxxs9lf8vHTy9I49SKVJ3vSWfKAsfFCNcqVjlmJEg/s3508/2401249P_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3508" data-original-width="2481" height="885" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicKfmmd_E84Fr3kPFI7hUMtp0eYMOogOJHJaOE3yKal6PoBtZYUSROODov-lE5g-bW9LXuw_V-oVxG2tSspw0jBTydPxfA7IUQBNYbqq7HrlxTtTW_EmVvq7TaPFPqk6VA5Itxw1vdsJb_tLxxs9lf8vHTy9I49SKVJ3vSWfKAsfFCNcqVjlmJEg/w626-h885/2401249P_1.jpg" width="626" /></a></div><br /><p></p>I didn’t always take photos of back streets and factories in places like Halifax. Some times I would head for more exotic and romantic locations. Here is Skegness in 1980!Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-24781985638211770162024-01-21T17:02:00.003+00:002024-01-21T17:02:45.806+00:00Whatever Happened To The Milk Marketing Board<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnj2nv8fVcgT1vbr5XTpBxBpguSBLQ6cqwoiR6PDYGIuMkBnxfoy4IWguEga944K5KFy0ca7GGLiFRGK8k8mpBodw1EqZdB7V3HP5TNGrhIbHWCcNIbrZAtmIeV9nqXfr43zo1T88Qu6Bfw_HFmBA1q4BOScCSIn9zwe0gCTA9dfUzKeQI5BfrJQ/s3508/2401216P_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3508" data-original-width="2481" height="815" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnj2nv8fVcgT1vbr5XTpBxBpguSBLQ6cqwoiR6PDYGIuMkBnxfoy4IWguEga944K5KFy0ca7GGLiFRGK8k8mpBodw1EqZdB7V3HP5TNGrhIbHWCcNIbrZAtmIeV9nqXfr43zo1T88Qu6Bfw_HFmBA1q4BOScCSIn9zwe0gCTA9dfUzKeQI5BfrJQ/w577-h815/2401216P_1.jpg" width="577" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Certain images are evocative of a time. In this photo of mine from the 1960s, I’m not sure whether it is the vehicles or the advert - whatever happened to the Milk Marketing Board? - or the grey shapes of the mills: but it is the 60s.</div>Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-76562192667213163232024-01-21T17:00:00.008+00:002024-01-21T17:00:49.074+00:00Working And Walking<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA06Dhd7BVMB0juTwx1mXzK2Qbma9-1WlelKuNHKbjE0fE19ecDt0sRhSOb8NmTyYeiF5a2wGnmCYtS9uJQaauD5o_8CTYEjNeVBghz3oGf_opEN2jSGTM4A8NEkLC6zqfmqiMlXwNnZ-H155VcSFunW1tTf_viG5OaY1AkJb9LYwYO5c6rqXEhQ/s2025/2401244cal.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2025" data-original-width="1620" height="814" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA06Dhd7BVMB0juTwx1mXzK2Qbma9-1WlelKuNHKbjE0fE19ecDt0sRhSOb8NmTyYeiF5a2wGnmCYtS9uJQaauD5o_8CTYEjNeVBghz3oGf_opEN2jSGTM4A8NEkLC6zqfmqiMlXwNnZ-H155VcSFunW1tTf_viG5OaY1AkJb9LYwYO5c6rqXEhQ/w652-h814/2401244cal.jpeg" width="652" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">By the week beginning 22nd January 1934, my father seems to have been doing nothing but working over and walking. I think that by 1934 he was working in the Engineering Department at Field Sons & Co at Lidget Green, Bradford. He was certainly working there by the late 1930s.</div>Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-22402943311190688652024-01-21T16:56:00.002+00:002024-01-21T16:56:17.234+00:00Double-Fronted Time Stamp<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRskRNrxFUm6sO4q4u8vTsza-Low6OT0eyn5Ha3EmcpuexIT09Am8qlI0lGhHJveLVjuahOoMzCxlEe61OGRTMqTrW6lZXKFGkRXphQAZbGbdd0C993p76f8k2yBj_Qv-HBpLK_RquHbTdrkBNsJcVfRfFYOevk0JE6Z6W6eBQZ_sgsXhIF0EYuw/s2025/2401214cal.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2025" data-original-width="1620" height="803" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRskRNrxFUm6sO4q4u8vTsza-Low6OT0eyn5Ha3EmcpuexIT09Am8qlI0lGhHJveLVjuahOoMzCxlEe61OGRTMqTrW6lZXKFGkRXphQAZbGbdd0C993p76f8k2yBj_Qv-HBpLK_RquHbTdrkBNsJcVfRfFYOevk0JE6Z6W6eBQZ_sgsXhIF0EYuw/w642-h803/2401214cal.jpeg" width="642" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It's the 1980s - and it is Albert Street in Elland if you really want to know - and the car is the time-stamp. Cars of that era were a bit like those double-fronted shunting engines, with bonnet and boot almost interchangeable in terms of design.</div><p></p>Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-36126174759034230452024-01-21T16:53:00.000+00:002024-01-21T16:53:01.174+00:00Just Three Generations<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz1CbWc4EmXC4ZP7M_6C3usqCq3E2XLIoHydLtmKy4vrqKdL1RV2rAEIpSWbDYJb-KQBPu1s774SeuKGO8l-NlgYNhkdMCKejQCtsn_psjQkycViICP80jK46zqFRlgjXaLh_i7y1GixqGtpcHjTzJzRQ0zYHmVSHN8VZ2jNYRkRI5w9xeHd8Rlg/s2025/2401212cal.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2025" data-original-width="1620" height="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz1CbWc4EmXC4ZP7M_6C3usqCq3E2XLIoHydLtmKy4vrqKdL1RV2rAEIpSWbDYJb-KQBPu1s774SeuKGO8l-NlgYNhkdMCKejQCtsn_psjQkycViICP80jK46zqFRlgjXaLh_i7y1GixqGtpcHjTzJzRQ0zYHmVSHN8VZ2jNYRkRI5w9xeHd8Rlg/w640-h800/2401212cal.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">I remember asking my father about this photograph of his father - Enoch Burnett sat at the front of this group - and he said that it was taken at the time of the Second Boer War (1899-1902). Enoch was in a reserve group of volunteers and he never got further than a training camp in a Bradford park. The historical span of just three generations never ceases to amaze me.</div><p></p>Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37291817.post-11937337791391739692024-01-21T16:44:00.001+00:002024-01-21T16:44:23.794+00:00Player's Navy Cut In Half<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGHEeUhE74-EJf9EzAb7-wtnddBg5UlEFFxrzU53O0wmqc9KR1jTkWmx9DisRdQd6CXjwiUz29BnXHeOBjtzJE7ugsbIVeCiVT1PMgQlWFu3Zpd1Ws_HApp6WPykogyd9VvddOaa-rh0TQ5fPU9_yMKLor9nhMJNKle7puA-aoVEFJfix738dAFQ/s2025/2401200cal.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2025" data-original-width="1620" height="766" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGHEeUhE74-EJf9EzAb7-wtnddBg5UlEFFxrzU53O0wmqc9KR1jTkWmx9DisRdQd6CXjwiUz29BnXHeOBjtzJE7ugsbIVeCiVT1PMgQlWFu3Zpd1Ws_HApp6WPykogyd9VvddOaa-rh0TQ5fPU9_yMKLor9nhMJNKle7puA-aoVEFJfix738dAFQ/w613-h766/2401200cal.jpeg" width="613" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;">Geologists retell the history of the earth by examining the way rock strata have been formed and changed over time. Archeologists investigate the story of mankind by digger through layers of human habitation. If you happen to live in Wibsey, you can examine the history of the Post Office as a building by looking at the way the gable-end adverts have been curtailed by generations of building projects.</div><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Alan Burnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01015127443616786425noreply@blogger.com0