Dear Chicago,

It seems like such a long time since we wrote to you. How’s the wind?

Well we’ve had a bit of a year of it so far over here in England, I can tell you. Lot of ups and downs in Birmingham and across the country.

We had the General Election in May. There were a lot of upsets over that and it’s taken a while for things to calm down. There’s been a lot of bad blood — such a shame.

Do you recall when your Bill came over to stay with us in Birmingham? He’s still fondly remembered, especially by the ladies, although absolutely no-one can stand his chum Tony. It might be because of his dodgy friends, it might be that time he started that fight, or it might be that he hasn’t got a good word to say about anyone. He had a ‘moment’ a few weeks ago, abusing dotty Uncle Jeremy something rotten.

That said he isn’t the only one, our Jess in particular can’t seem to stop ‘speaking her mind’. That’s to be praised of course, but you might have hoped that she’d have kept her head down for a while at least: newly elected to a job in parliament, she’s been moaning about the makeup of the team and upsetting everyone with her fruity language. Seems she got into an altercation with an established MP close to the boss — the equivalent of Dick Durbin telling Elizabeth Warren to “shut the heck up” because he didn’t like the cut of Bernie Sander’s jib.

But it’s not all doom and gloom! Gosh no. We’re having quite the time — a super time! — because it’s “Super September”! Everyone is in quite a tizzy about the fun things we’ve got on. The main attraction is the opening of a new shopping centre. It’s on top of the old train station so we get to reopen the train station too at the same time. The train station hasn’t actually changed, but it does have more shops, which everybody agrees is the main thing.

What else is super? Oh yes, the Rugby World Cup is coming to town. Not sure if you’re in it, as they won’t let the players wear crash helmets. We’re hosting teams from Samoa, South Africa, Australia and Uruguay. Lovely chaps, rugby players. They’re never any bother so long as you let them have a communal bath and a sing-song. They do like to let their hair down a bit. And let each others hair down. And have baths, together. It’s all very robust and healthy. And masculine. Healthy. Just don’t accept a biscuit if they offer you one.

Did you hear about the school play? I think they’ve put the video online. It’s a rather odd version of Pulp Fiction set in the 1920s. I couldn’t understand a word of the dialogue, but it seems to have gone down well — Drama Teacher Mr Hall says they’re to do it again next year.

What else? Oh I think there are expos at the National Exhibition Centre for both bread and circuses.

We’d love to come over to visit, but the coffers are empty I’m afraid. Young Liam keeps saying ‘there’s no money left’, but like a stopped clock he had to be right some time. On orders we’ve had to tighten the belts: we built a big shiny playroom, but we’ve had to stop anyone coming over on weekends. Still it looks nice from the outside. I hear you’ve had similar problems, but I hope the you’re not to sad about it even if you do get the blues sometimes.

We’ll write again soon and we promise not to leave it so long this time.

All our love to Rahm,

Birmingham.