Week Eighteen

We are proud Cornishmen. Although my brother lives hundreds of miles away in the big smoke of Nodnol (ish, he's actually more Middlesexist now) he is always happy to wear the flag of St Piran or a Cornish Pirates rugby top when the occasion suits. I'm sure he'd dress down for the BAFTAs or similar events but you get what I'm saying.

The announcement this week that the Cornish will get the same minority status as other Celtic regions is superb as it means we might be able to have two pints of a weekend instead of just the usual half. I'm hoping I can get an Arts Council grant and sit around during the week, getting up around midday and refusing to go out unless it's pitch black. The only downside with this is that, as minorities, the press may get us confused and try to send us back where we came from when, ironically, we are where we came from. That's not to say we don't welcome others in Cornwall. Do come down. Do.

The score is 16-2, however his arrival is very soon. I think next week will be dangerous as he may well phone ahead. Saying that, he never has before. Also the chat has to be to do with the postcards or he's not getting any points. I really, really want to win this.

Week Seventeen

When I went to watch Filth it was a magical day. I'd only been introduced to Trainspotting two years before and I was thrilled that another Irvine Welsh book had been transformed into a talkie picture movie. I rarely go to the cinema but I made this a big night; popcorn, drinks, beers afterwards and was not disappointed by the film itself which featured great acting, a wicked plot and some genuinely funny moments despite the context. Whenever I think about that film it takes me back to my big night out. The next film I want to see is Frank and that is mostly due to his appearance in Filth and my subsequent reading of his life. Giving this postcard away will be tough but it's for a good cause.

My brother doesn't know any of this.

15-2 is the score. I was visited recently by my other brother who is sort of a mutual brother of ours and certainly a good reason for him to get in touch yet I'm quite happy to keep the point for myself.

Week Sixteen

Nothing beats colouring in a @MooseAllain original. It might be obvious what I've done here, going for the 'superb brain (snigger)' motif, yet I'm pretty sure he will take this as a massive compliment. Watch out for the ego next time you're crossing the Tamar.

It's been confirmed that he will be down in May for around half a week and he will be down the following week for a mutual friend's wedding so the extra early points are managing to calm my nerves. It looks like he's going for a promotion at work so there's no way he'll be thinking about his little brother when he has so much to prepare for. Whether he gets the job or not, he's dropping vital points with his current strategy.

The information provided on the back of the card is a little embellished. Who would call their child Razor? He's actually called Brutus and he offered me no such contract; not written, anyway. 14-2 is the current score.

Week Fifteen

This postcard is another gem from Julia's tacky postcard collection. Say Hello on Twitter - @Tinksaid.

Things got a bit edgy this week as my son had to be X-Rayed after a horse trod on his foot. I publicly thanked my Dad on Facebook for taking him to the hospital and my brother commented to say he was glad my son's foot wasn't broken. As this wasn't postcard related I can't give him the point, much as I would like to. He also said Happy Mother's Day to our Mum, again on Facebook, and again un-postcard related so not point-worthy.

This takes the score up to an unlucky 13-2 with just five weeks until he ventures down to Cornwall. If all goes well I'll be 18-2 up when he arrives and I'll avoid postcardy chat until he leaves, which isn't very likely. Fingers crossed...

Week Fourteen

I bought my own postcard this week - dedication to the cause. I even took a trip to Falmouth to get it and, yes, it really is 12 miles from where I live. I would send an invoice to my brother for the expenses but his reply would mean he'd get the point and nobody wants that.

It's 12-2 currently and still all is quiet. I've had a few discussions with relatives about him but that doesn't count for anything. The same goes for the 'Happy Birthday' post he put on Dad's Facebook page.

Generally the people who come across this page are friends and strangers from Twitter or friends who have subscribed as I can't advertise this on Facebook due to his account so thanks to anyone who stops by occasionally to see what we're up to. Well, what I'm up to at least. We've had over 1,900 views this year and it's only March - I'd love to be able to tell him this site has been viewed over 5,000 times at the end of the year when he first finds out about it.

If you have a postcard or a talent that can be put onto a postcard please get in touch and I'll make sure it gets seen.

Week Thirteen

I can only buy postcards that say 'Pasties', 'Cornwall' and 'St. Piran' on them so a big thanks to @SandyFootwells for this one of the Angel of the North. It inspired my philosophical rant on what the North is, although I may have missed the point completely. That's not for me to decide.

It's all quiet on the brother front and the score sits at a not-too-shabby 11-2. It turns out nobody's heard from him for a little while so he's got a few phone calls to make before he starts to think of my peculiar face.

My daughter earned part of her Brownie badge by writing the address on last week's postcard so I have served the community and showcased a few artists (and Alya Bessex) in the process of producing this blog. I can sleep well tonight. As I did last night.

Week Twelve

Thanks to @Taylertoons for the postcard this week. I'm hoping my brother likes unicorns or, at the very least, the colour orange.

I really need to start racking up the points as my brother will be in Cornwall twice this coming May and he'll no doubt talk to me exclusively about postcards, dragging his score up through a trip that doesn't really involve me other than for a catch up and a few beers. This week's 10-2 scoreline is good but it's not enough.

Yesterday was a prime window for him to get this week's point as I went drinking with my Dad while watching the last three games of the Six Nations. I was waiting for a text or a call but he's handed it to me on a plate instead. Metaphorically speaking that is, as if he did actually hand it to me on a plate he'd get the point and have to take it back.

I have genuinely seen a bee this year so the content of the postcard is not a complete lie. I'm looking forward to being stung every time I walk past the hedges around my house this year, too.