Week Forty Seven

I couldn't help myself this week, I'm basically trying to see how many people I can get to buy a lottery ticket given that they already have the winning numbers. Check the postcard this week for those details.

The score is 43-4 but, if my brother buys a lottery ticket and wins millions of pounds based on these numbers, I will officially be the biggest loser in this competition. The odds are 14 million to one or thereabouts, mind.

Still, I'm off to buy a lottery ticket.

Week Forty Six

While I was in London my brother filled me in on his busy life. During the last week I have seen this in action as he's not sent me so much as a text message. Normal service resumes.

The good news, other than my point this week which takes the score to 42-4, is that I found the Longleat postcard. It's difficult to send postcards from the location I buy them from as I have to scan them in - I'd hate to get complaints from you all regarding the lack of pictorial postcard evidence.

It's hard to believe there are only six weeks left. We're a bit disappointed that we won't see his face when he opens the quillow on Christmas Day but we'll settle for a phone call. Knowing my brother he'll agree to phone later in the day and forget. Fortunately I won't, though.

Week Forty Five

There's a lot to get through this week so let me start at the beginning. Mrs L and I have been working on a way to tell my brother why I've been sending him the postcards this year. By that I mean I asked her to make a quillow with the web address on it and this is what she came up with:

This has been wrapped in Christmas paper and has now been hand delivered to my brother. Regular listeners will know I went up to spend some time with him this week which also meant I could take my son to the Tottenham vs. Brighton game. While at my brother's house one of the postcards turned up:

You may now be thinking 'Ah, he has this week's point' and you'd be right, but he doesn't get the point for talking about postcards after the postcard turned up; that happened on the Wednesday. On the Tuesday Mrs My Brother brought up the subject subtly, to which my brother joined the conversation and tried to get my reasons for the sending the 'weird postcards' out of me. All I told him was that they aren't weird and, after he incorrectly quoted the story of the sea, I corrected him. Now he and his good lady think I have memorised every postcard.

I may have mentioned this before but my brother's good lady thought I was sending the postcards as a cry for help. It was suggested that I was depressed and reaching out to him in such a way that I wouldn't be embarrassed about my situation. I am happy to report that I am not depressed and am purely sending the postcards to get points. This week the score is 41-4, my own fault for going up there. However, it was great to meet up with them all again and to spend some time with my niece who, despite being a bit of a talker, referred to me as a chatterbox. 

We went from my brother's house to Longleat to spend a couple of days with my family, meeting up with my wife and children at the park. While there I got a great postcard of a giraffe sticking his tongue out which is in a bag somewhere and so I have had to go with this one for this week:

Week Forty Four

The sentiment is obvious with this one. I may have stolen that first sentence from a Star Wars film and, if so, I apologise.

The score is 41-3 and I'm getting the impression my brother isn't even trying. Nevertheless, I'm staying at his house for two nights this week - Tuesday and Wednesday - and I may well be there when this one turns up. I should work on my excuses today but will probably ask him who it's from and suggest that more people should be sending postcards.

Mrs L is working on a device that he can open at Christmas with the address of this blog on it so that he can see what we've been up to. I will include a screenshot of the page view numbers as it's getting close to 5,000 so be sure to tell everyone just to nip over to the site. Also this is the last chance any of us have to submit a postcard or two to be included. If it features your artwork or even some text then it will be more than welcome.

Week Forty Three

The Seal Sanctuary in Gweek sounds like a place you might visit if you just want to see some seals...however, you'd be wrong. Although seals are present (for the Trades Descriptions Act if nothing else) they also have penguins and starfish and sea lions and, at this time of year, seal pups which are great to keep the children entertained. More importantly their gift shop has postcards so I bought one. For my brother.

No response from last week brings the score excitingly up to 40-3. My temptation to produce a line graph showing the points rising has been stemmed by my realisation that no-one would really look at it, let alone take in the detail it depicts. Apparently this doesn't make you philistines, it makes you normal.

Here's a picture of a clown fish that isn't Nemo, although predictably they have referenced the celebrity fish on the back. Philistines.

Week Forty Two

Big thanks to Christine from Iesha's Attic in Helston who donated this week's postcard. There's no better feeling than walking into a shop and hearing "I'm glad you're here - I saw this and thought of you". It's even better if they don't pull out a hatchet and start chasing you around the shop with it. I guess, anyway.

Things have gone back to normal this week with the level of communication reading zero. I'm glad I didn't do 'giant gift boxes to my brother' or the points would have set me back enough for a remortgage.

This means the score is 39-3 with just ten weeks [UNTIL CHRISTMAS] to go.

Week Forty One

It was all going so well and then this happened:

What has happened since is that we've moved the Longleat trip and we are still going up to stay with my brother and watch the football. However, more importantly, he's gone and got himself a point.

The score is now 38-3, yet another blemish on my whitewash victory. Here's Jamie Bear to provide this week's psychological discussion.