Now, I don’t want to complain – well, yes I do, actually. Those of you who have followed the mumbling and ramblings that pass for communication around here, will be well aware that complaining is the life blood of our existence. So what, you are probably wondering, has he found to whinge about now?
You will be pleased to know that, this time, we are breaking new ground, taking our righteous indignation to new heights. In this post we are about to thrust under your nose something that hasn’t happened – yet. But it will, you mark my words.
Take a look at our picture. What do you see? Blackberries. Not just blackberries – but ripe blackberries (and very tasty they were too). But, and here is the pertinent point, it is only August. There is still a good-sized chunk of this year left – brand new and untouched. Now, I must admit that we have peeped inside the September box – just to make sure – but October et al are still in the cupboard, with their plastic bags firmly stuck down and the end of the sticky-tape cunningly camouflaged.
What about the rest of our summer? Why is Autumn in such a hurry to get started? I am filled with foreboding. Something is going on!
And that will definitely give us something to complain about.