RUTH, Ian’s daughter, returned to London more than a week ago after a rare. and welcome, visit. It’s taken us this long to get the photograph of her and Ian and Harry’s bottom (discreetly cropped) scanned and on to the laptop. In the midst of the chaos which is now enveloping the entire house, we couldn’t fight our way across the room to get to the printer/scanner. And when eventually we did, and switched it on, it whirred and banged and spat before sending a black exclamation mark in a yellow triangle to the computer screen. It looked like it was about to launch a nuclear attack.
We had found the photograph in a plain brown envelope on top of the oil tank in the back yard in the middle of a thunderstorm. Dropped there by Wensleydale artist, Piers Browne, a friend and near-neighbour whose paintings and etchings must be seen to be believed – follow the link to the right of the page – and who took the picture in the garden of his home at Heugh when Ruth, Ian and dogs went to visit. Oh yes: and by the time we got the scanner going, Piers had emailed the picture to us anyway. But we’re keeping the signed one . . .
Here’s another – taken by me.