Wednesday, 17 December 2008
Monday, 15 December 2008
The wonderful thing about working your way through your old photographs, converting them into digital images, is that it brings you face to face with memories. This was taken about 30 years ago when we were with our good friends Arthur and Cathy in, I think, East Anglia. Arthur will, I am sure, correct me if I am wrong.
Saturday, 13 December 2008
Friday, 12 December 2008
The man on the left is Charles Pitts, a motorcycling friend of my parents, known to me and my brother as "Uncle Charlie". In the centre is Gladys, my mother, and on the right is my father, Albert. The photograph is recorded as being "France" and this fits in with the "English Spoken" sign. I remember my father telling me that the only time he had ever been abroad in his early life was on a day trip to Calais before the war. This then is that trip.
I'm glad I have rescued this from the dusty, age-cracked, fading archives. It is a picture of me, my brother Roger and my father gazing into the cockpit of what was probably a Spitfire or something similar. I can date it fairly precisely in that I appear to be about 3 and that would make it 1951. The picture appeared in the Yorkshire Evening Post and was taken during a display of World War II fighters at the then Yeadon Airfield (now Leeds-Bradford International Airport).
Tuesday, 9 December 2008
Continuing with Uncle Frank and his holidays, today's picture is entitled "Entrance to the Grand Pier, Weston-Super-Mare". The couple on the left are Auntie Miriam and Uncle Frank, but I am unsure who the lone figure on the right is. It is undated, but I would guess it was taken in the early or mid 1930s. There is a bit of a clue on the extreme left of the photograph where there is an advert for what appears to be Malcolm Campbell's Land Speed Record car, the Blue Bird. From the front of the car, it looks like the Blue Bird which broke the record in 1933, so that would confirm the mid-1930s as the most likely date.
Monday, 8 December 2008
"In photography, the smallest thing can be a great subject. The little human detail can become a leitmotif." — Henri Cartier-Bresson.
This was taken, I think, by my Uncle Frank. It was in one of his albums, and being Uncle Frank, it was marked with a date and a subject. "On The Pier, Blackpool, 1939" is all that it says. But you can spend an hour searching through that "little human detail" and find a leitmotif for a world about to enter war.
Friday, 5 December 2008
Today's photo is from my archives. I know where it is - this is Market Street in Halifax - but what I am not sure about is when it is. You can get some clues from the cars and the dress, but I would have difficulty it narrowing it down within five years or so. Now if I had a better negative filing system I would know the answer.
Thursday, 4 December 2008
Friday, 28 November 2008
Thursday, 27 November 2008
Friday, 21 November 2008
Thursday, 20 November 2008
Wednesday, 19 November 2008
Tuesday, 18 November 2008
Monday, 17 November 2008
Spent some time yesterday investigating the background of Isobel's grandfather and grandmother, Kaye Holroyd Berry and his wife Sarah Ann (Shaw). This is a picture of Isobel's mother, Edie, with Sarah Ann. Written on the back of the small photo is the following : "10/8/47. Edie and Mother. She wanted to get dressed up but we told her it didn't matter for snaps".
On Saturday morning I collected Alexander from his room at University. My plan for a swift turn-around and return to Huddersfield was shot out of the water by discovering the tip-like conditions my son was existing in. So we spend an hour cleaning his room before setting off home.
Friday, 14 November 2008
Thursday, 23 October 2008
Parties are very much the thing at the moment. Last weekend it was Samir's 30th. This coming weekend it is dph's 50th birthday party (yes, he does exist) and next week it is Brian Duerden's retirement party. Trying to put together a card for dph means scanning through some old photographs. This is one of my favourites. It was taken on a holiday to La Rochelle in France.
On Saturday night we went to Sheffield to our friend Samir's thirtieth birthday party. He was back from New York for the occasion and the theme of the evening was Indian. Isobel managed a kaftan, whereas I was wearing ... well the advantage of always taking the photographs is that nobody will ever know.
The Temperance Seven were one of our guests on the Friday evening. Of course there are eight members of the band, the eighth being pictured above. To quote from the band's website : "Colonel Alexander Hitchcock Galloway - Second-In-Command and Megaphonic Refrain. The Colonel is best known for his Gargantuan Appetite and answers to the Soubriquet “Trencherman” within the Ranks of the Orchestra. Silver Medallist at the Prince Phillip National Flatulence Championships, the Colonel lists his Hobbies as Fasting and Flagellation".
For some reason over the Festival weekend I kept walking from the centre of the village up to the British Legion. I must have done the journey half a dozen times. The walk takes you past Marsden Mill, much of which now lies empty. For some reason it missed out on the mill conversion programme, and now it is perhaps too late.
Rock of ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee. But not for much longer. My rock of ages - the Rock Inn, Upper Edge Elland, is due to close in the coming few days. Could my zeal no respite know, could my tears forever flow, such a pub I'll never know.
Wednesday, 8 October 2008
Monday, 6 October 2008
One of those photographs which never match the actual vision. It was late afternoon and the sky was clouding over. The stone of the college buildings was turned dark by the sinking sun but the shops higher up Broad Street were still colourful and almost shone. The picture doesn't catch it so you will just have to imagine it.
On our drive into Abingdon I spotted the Brewery Tap and walked back to pay it a visit later. In fact it was only the tap for Morland's Brewery for about three years, having been created from a row of brewery offices. And just as it came the brewery went, so it remains a tap without a tank. so to speak.
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