I finished last month’s scribblings with a heartfelt thought for the difficulties the inclement weather was imposing on our friends in the arable sector.
Following this up, I spoke to a farming acquaintance just outside Newcastle who offered the opinion that he, and everyone else in his locality, were having a bachelor harvest. On questioning the origin of this he replied “they were getting a little bit every now and then.” Isn’t it great that despite the weather, despite the waywardness of politicians in protecting our future, farmers in general can retain a sense of humour.
So as Judie Everett said in last month’s letters pages: yes, all I do is stroll about in wellies, but find it difficult to say oooargh with a straw in my mouth. What do you utter with a plum in yours?
I keep harping on about democracy or the lack of it, and it seems to me that the government – and indeed anybody else in a position of authority – are hell bent on pandering to the minority groups in the vain hope of garnering their votes. Take it from me, there are enough people out there with stiff upper lips and straight backs to see off any left wing or far right movement provided the government of the day provides a framework where those with aspirations can achieve them. The ability to earn money rather than be given it is paramount.
It is becoming increasingly obvious that many of the government’s advisers have a vested interest in their particular sphere of operation and given that many MPs have never worked or been employed in anything vaguely commercial, small wonder that Westminster and Whitehall keep coming up with schemes that are blindingly expensive and totally useless – such as HS2. The only requirement the electorate have is the ability to provide for themselves, enable their children to have an education and to live in safety. At the moment none of these are available to all.
I was nearly moved to tears when the Colour Blind Association were vehement in their protestation at the use of a pink ball in day/night cricket; and I was equally moved at the thought that many Londoners, including MPs, were so upset that Big Ben was to be silenced for four years. But just think what an excuse for a booze fest it will be when it restarts again in four year’s time. Are we not becoming rather pathetic and sensitive as a nation?
In common with Monica Akehurst, whose regular column I admire greatly, management is able to grow a vast array of produce very successfully. While I stroll about in my wellies or sit on the ride-on, her indoors is outdoors growing cucumbers, courgettes, tomatoes, cabbages, strawberries and raspberries, and picking apples, damsons and crab apples. My Romney ewe tegs are just beside the garden and come down daily for a share of the fallen fruit and they are looking pretty well on it.
Just one more thought of a political note – when is that vindictive George Osborne going to have his comeuppance? He ought to be put out to grass with that overly greedy, Tony Blair, both of whom have taken more out of politics than they ever put into it.
I hope that by the time this magazine is published the cereal harvest will be over and mine can begin. Texels soon, Mules early September, Romneys on the twenty ninth and Suffolk cross Mules sometime in October. Management will be pleased!