postcard 1907, originally uploaded by elaine the pirate.

My father inherited half of a wheat farm last year. It is a completely Dickensian tale.

My father's first cousin, Cedric, and his wife, Alice, were childless. Cedric died some time ago and Alice followed last year. Out of the blue, my father receives a phone call, Alice had died, leaving the estate in equal share to my father, his brother, and the one other first cousin. My uncle passed away a while ago so the estate was to be split 50/50 between my father and his spinster second cousin. A dear lady straight from the pages of Dickens or Austen. 60 years old, still lives at home with her elderly mother, never married, lived a very small and confined life.

So now we have a farm.

This postcard, the first in a series spanning over 30 years, to Amy from Aunt Gwen is dated 5 April 1907.

It got me to thinking about how future generations will find out about us. We send text messages and email that is deleted. We deride people for putting their personal details up on the internet. But it used to be commonplace. A photograph of ones self or ones children are put on card and written on the back for all and sundry to see in the delivery system. So long live things like blogs and flickr and twitter. Its banality is the best reason for its existence.

And perhaps more importantly, back then girls loved their kitty cats too.