“strawberries, and only strawberries, could now be thought or spoken of — the best fruit in england — every body’s favourite — always wholesome” (jane austen)

there’s nothing sweeter than a sunny sunday afternoon spent picking strawberries and gossiping with a good friend – so at the first sign that today was not to be one of those drear rainy june days, of which we had plenty this year, we took the chance and planned a drive out to the strawberry fields – we weren’t the only ones – seemingly half the city had had the same idea – yet there were strawberries for everyone – we each picked our fill, all the while stuffing our faces with the biggest and sweetest berries and yapping away about football, men and the ennui of working and studying life – afterwards we rewarded ourselves with more strawberry feasting in the sunshine before returning to our respective writing desks and tasks in happy anticipation of even more strawberry eating during the game tonight

really, that is how sundays in the summer should be spent! – strawberries, a little bit of light work and a football match to look forward to