When The Sun Goes Off, The Scanner Goes On

This weekend saw the end of British Summer Time (to those unfamiliar with the concept, it is a form of climatic flagellation we British subject ourselves to each year which guarantees that when things are turning cold and dark they turn even colder and darker). It also brought storms and driving rain which managed to drive out every last tactile memory of the Spanish sun. Any bird with half an ounce of sense has flown south for the summer and Amy has curled up into a tight ball of fur and left a note to ask us to wake her in the Spring.

For me, when the sun goes off the scanner comes on and I resume the process of rescanning my old negatives from the 1960s, 70s, and 80s. My main problem with this is that I can never remember where I have got to. Perhaps I have published this scan before, although I doubt whether I have. I am almost sure it was taken in Elland, but I am having difficulty narrowing down exactly where. Part of the problem is that Elland has changed so much : matching the particular pattern of mills and chimneys with Google Street view scenes is almost impossible. 

If you click and enlarge and squint, you might just make out a pub on the bottom corner of the road. For me, pub signs provide a grid reference that is both fairly accurate and potentially quite refreshing. I suspect that might by The Drop on Elland Lane: but don't worry about it. I have all the long, dark, wet days ahead to puzzle over the conundrum and I might just need to find my heavy raincoat and venture outside to carry out some research.