He has no money for eye-tests. Sheep wool has fallen alarmingly in value over the last few years and he has no savings with which to supplement his income. With that one simple act, the accidental shearing of the dog, he realises that he can no longer look after the farm. With no son to pass the responsibility to, his livelihood is gone, his home is gone, his future is gone, his past is gone, and the countless thousands of hours of labour that he, his father, and his father's father put into the land are nothing more than wasted effort and folly.
His life is at an end.
And Specsavers think that's a suitable story with which to sell you some glasses. The bastards.
Wishing Everyone a Happy Christmas
3 hours ago
2 comments:
Excellent!
Thanks for the mention, it's much appreciated.
I'm slightly concerned, however, that you've managed to summarise the entire blog post in only 125 words and yet not adversely affect its intent in any way.
This suggests that either I've unwittingly included a rather elegant and economical 'tl;dr' into my own post, or that the other two thousand words are utter waffle and padding.
I shall blindly convince myself of the former and obstinately ignore any dissenting opinion...
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