So 2026 is upon us. There seems to be a lot of reflection for 2016 recently, apparently the GenZers are trying to get a grip on what things were like then. Well, it was pretty crap guys - Bowie, George Michael and Prince in a oner. I can remember where I was when Bowie died, climbing over a gate between two fields when Becky called. I wouldn’t say I was an avid fan, but there was something so utterly special about him, his creative drive, his re-inventions, his unsullied desire to challenge convention…I can remember where I was when the country slept-walked out of Europe. Lying in my tent at Glasto, totally broken from the crazy night before, then the murmur went out across the dewy fields, ‘we’re out’ 'Oh my god, were out’ - 'fucking hell, this can’t be true'. We wandered the cloying mud in a daze, the festival punched and confused….

But it was the year, we bought Langabridge Farm. The only good thing to come out of that year, for us that is. Way back when I worked in advertising in London, our offices were of course in Shoreditch and achingly cool, out the front we had a shop window where we displayed loads of crazy ideas, like a musical ruler, or a dummy in a suit with a blender on his head, carrying a briefcase; it declared to everyone ‘to walk in stupid every morning'’ - a nod to the need for curiosity and to always keep an open mind.

Anyway continuing with this creative bent, back in 2010, we had a back stairwell in the office, that we used for local artists to exhibit their paintings. On the third floor, there was this graphic depiction of a white farmhouse, nestled in the green hills, a spotlight shining down on it. It was there I saw our dream, just sitting there, the depiction of our future. I bought it but little did I know that that farmhouse would be bought one day, and it would be ours.