The sights and sounds of summer have been somewhat dimmed this week due to the unwelcome and obtrusive arrival of the rain. Free from warning, and coming with a particular vindictive nature, the rain has added a touch of drab grey to the normally gorgeous caucophony of colour which traditionally inhabits the hedges and valleys of Britain during the Summer. Yet, the rain with all its wettening devices, still has the real power to enliven the flowers and tress, filling wilting leaves with turgid and robust life. Allowing the bees to home in on their flowered and accented beauty, the immediate presence of the grey rain is so giving when it comes to providing a legacy in the purest form; by rewarding the landscape with colour afresh and anew.
In terms of our hog and spit roasting practices and enterprises, the rain has hardly damaged proceedings. Seeing our lovely piggies rolling around in their new found plots of freshly construed mud, we feel a tinge of sadness that, indeed, these specimens will soon be inhabiting the roasting trays of our celebrated hog and spit roasting machines. That brief lull of sadness, however, is washed away as we love the smiles of our satisfied customers far more. Giving up their lives for the most noblest of causes, these intelligent creatures of habit become the most tasty meat known on this gracious land we call Britain. Gaining stupendous degrees of noblesse within their dramatically sensuous colour, our pigs bring us sunshine from the rain