Not a huge amount of ripe blackberries but enough, with apples, for a crumble.
Cyclists are sneaky: they creep up on you when you're least expecting them. You might hope that your dog would give you notice - by barking - of their approach but to be fair George was engaged in conversation with me - the first time since our little disagreement over my choice of clothes - so I shouldn't grumble.
I was saying something along the lines of, 'My mother said I never should wear shorts for blackberrying,' to which George was adding his three-happence along the lines of, 'If you'd listened to me blah blah blah,' when the cyclist appeared.
'Afternoon,' I nodded.
He hurried past.
'That's your fault,' I said to George.
'What did I do?' he asked indignantly.
'Don't get me started.'
P.S. If you've missed the previous posts in the series the first four uses for poo bags are:
as a rain hood;
picking up poo;
collecting shells on the beach;
carrying wet clothes following impromptu paddling.