… it Must Be Wimbledon
… and …
… if it’s Wimbledon …
… there Must Be Strawberries
For Cuppa and me, Wimbledon has long marked the beginning of summer. By the final weekend of the event at least, school was always out, and the holidays had begun. It’s been a tradition with us for a long time now — since sometime in the mid-seventies I would say. We have missed it the odd time due to this’es and thats’es but not often.
As a rule, we watch three tennis events per year, Wimbledon in June, the Canadian Open in August, and the US Open in September, which somewhat fittingly marks the end of summer holidays. Occasionally, we catch a bit of another event, like the recent men’s finals of the French Open, but it’s a pretty random and unsure thing.
The Wimbledon broadcast generally advertises itself as Breakfast at Wimbledon and always highlights the delights of strawberries and cream. Well, the end of June is also strawberry season here in southern Ontario. I had forgotten both about strawberries and Wimbledon until I saw this temporary stand just around the corner the other day. Wimbledon started on Monday and the strawberry stand opened on Tuesday — as did summer, according to Wimbledon, strawberries and the calendar — the calendar in the form of the summer solstice.