Lionel

Alcohol and I parted company about three years ago and I was never a pub person anyway. The last visit to a pub was more than twenty years ago. Hairdressing? My wife takes care of my hair. That is, until this lockdown when I thought I'd let it grow in sympathy with a few neighbours. Quite liked it longer. Even kidded myself it made me look younger. Such vanity as I could hang on to was dispelled by a neighbour's wife. 'Oh, you look so like Dougal the dog in the Magic Roundabout.' So much for vanity! The locks were shorn that day.

Yes, Billy, so far, although sweating hard in the garden. How are you two? Safe I trust, and healthy.

Quite right.

Thanks for the laugh Billy. You're a good sport.

Spot on.

It's quite interesting, Cummings gave a step by step and seemingly factual account of his travels and accommodation. No contact with anyone. Quite unlike the family who moved in next door to us. They arrived two days after lockdown, kicked off with a riotous barbecue and made a general nuisance of themselves. Drunk a lot of the time, including their youngsters. They were warned about their behaviour by several village heavies. Our local copper, now retired, took note and phoned it in. No action whatsoever. For so many weeks this family has been entertaining their friends from wherever, house parties and sleep overs for their teenaged kids, and behaving as if this were Blackpool in high season. Not so bad so far, eh? They came from Central London, the most infected part of the country at the time. He is a doctor! Should not he have obeyed the lockdown rules out of professional etiquette? Seems not. In short, they mortgaged the health of the people of this village for their own jollies and security. Quite unlike Cummings who isolated himself and family. I can't help but notice, no press has been crawling around here, even if they could find this spot. NO TV or Police calls. I may only conclude another agenda for Cummings

Well said, Valleyman. I believe there's much more mileage to this little tale than we know at present. As they say, watch this space.

I believe our MSM has mislead us yet again. No one should be so surprised. After reading around I find Cummings declared his main intention to drain the Whitehall swamp as soon as getting hired by Boris. Who's the chief of that swamp? Mark Sedwill. Mr Sedwill is top dog of the Civil Service. Not so civil or a service but more poltical these days. He's also chief of so many other agencies it makes him defacto head of state, so much power has he. But Mr Sedwill, also a former spook, is believed to know where people's skeletons are buried, among others those of Boris. The one man immune to this age old blackmail tactic is Cummings, reputed to be a fairly truthful man, and also once the leader of the Leave campaign. Sedwill is a staunch remainder and arch enemy. There is very bad blood between these two and with this latest wheeze, Sedwill has gained first blood. Our two faced press has weighed in to sell papers or airtime. 2 metre distancing? Not for them. Truthfulness? Nah! But the fact that Cummings drove to his family home is a treason for which there must be a witch hunt and a show trial. But it ain't over until the fat lady sings! No one knows what Cummings holds on Sedwill. Could be very interesting.

When is the question? Well, the only wat I know to coerce farmers to do anything is through the wallet. Perhaps if we were to say, for example, here is a nutritional requirement for each crop. Here are the means to achieve that requirement within five years, cheaply and make a public hue and cry about what you are doing for the environment. (That always attracts subsidies from somewhere!) Farmers, you're not required to comply but just don't attempt to sell any produce from your farm if you fail our nutritional test. It will all be valued at animal fodder. With a glut of animal fodder available the market price would plummet. On a wider canvas, yes, Yodama, hydroponics would be a boon to such areas as you describe. Perhaps portable multiple units could be made available in quake zones, desert regions or countries ravished by famine. My only concern is, such systems as I understand them are energy hungry and I wonder if such areas would be able to provide the energy requirements. As far as European agriculture is concerned, our only renewable asset, I exclude the myths about wind power quite deliberately, is our land. Why would we not be keen to revitalise and increase the value of our land and it's crops/livestock? Mass hydroponics mass draw down of scarce and high priced electrical power. Would we not profit on every front by taking simple and very affordable steps to re-vitalise the land? Wouldn't it be better to greatly reduce our dependence on oil-derived and expensive artificial fertilizers and hugely expensive chemical treatments? If you would like I'll explode the myth of chemical sprays used on the land. Controversial, yes, but you're not shy of a little controversy, I know.

Is hydroponics the answer? After my years in farming and now developing skills in horticulture I'll answer, definitely not! You are quite right to say our soil is quite poor, in fact that's a gross understatement. Most British arable land has been raped of most worms, micro organisms and base nutrients farmed plants would supply to us. To put it bluntly, it's not even of use for brick making. Instead of playing with what at best is a second rate bridging system, an all out campaign to greatly improve our arable land by five year rotations, the application of composts and animal muck as well as deep ploughing would, within five years offer crops more nutritionally suited to us than at present. Of course, that notion is predicated on a parallel and equal reduction of artificial fertilisers to zero over that five years. Why waste time on hydroponics when the answer to our soil problems are so simple and cheap? So much has been made of our western obesity crisis but several headline nutritionists have come forward to point the finger at the quality of foodstuffs grown and supplied to the market. Wouldn't it be a great change for consumers to bleat to farmers about poor food rather than farmers bleat about poor market prices, not mentioning their substantial subsidies? Don't believe so many farmers are loaded? Ever seen a land owner riding an old bike? Thought not.

Undergirding my thoughts with limited data from Spanish 'Flu, I believe the kids would be better off at home with online coaching pending the beginning of any second wave. Then, as suggested below, it would be time to evacuate city kids for their own safety. The interregnum between waves of 'flu allows time to prepare the uprooting and re-planting of our kids. It's been done before. That there will be a second wave is certain in my mind. The phrase 'second wave,' is increasingly trailed in the media as if to acclimatise us to the thought. Further, selling the public a second lock down as little as three months from now will be a political nightmare. But that lockdown would need to be much tighter and more rigorously enforced than this present one. Failure is not an option.

Well, I've not been a parent or school teacher so just maybe I'm a little more objective. The idea of a 'second wave,' has been trailed in the press (breadcrumbs in the Hans Christian Anderson stories or was it Brothers Grimm?) It's also been mentioned several times in the Afternoon briefings and news bulletins. Spanish 'flu had a second, vastly more devastating second wave. That's when the numbers soared, ending in an estimated 50 million victims. If we now begin to put children and youngsters back in school and a massive second wave hits then take them out again to another couple of months at home the damage to these kids will probably be permanent. Surely, leave them where they are until we know what is happening. Or ... In 1940 kids were evacuated from the cities to rural areas. My grand mother raised a couple. It would be a short term pre-emptive measure. They would be more secure from the virus and in a better, more challenging environment. I'm fully aware 'experts' are telling us children aren't affected by this virus. May I point out here, they're not affected by the first wave. What the second wave could be like no one is saying if indeed any 'experts' have a clue. Going on Spanish 'flu it will be exceedingly more virulent. Any thoughts anyone?

Yes, Jacqui, I did. I'm not a city kid. Born into a West Norfolk village with farming all around me. Spent my teens in London and it was expected of me to justify my education with a high power job. Got a break into farming after five years and then spent the next twenty five years happy as a pig in ... Unfortunately, being rather small for all the heavy manual work by body gave out and I left. Farming was, and is, extremely difficult to get into. The more so now since farmers don't employ so many workers preferring instead expensive farm machinery. I did ever own land, just worked on several different farms mainly with livestock although I'm fully able to do all arable work. As you can imagine, livestock is an all consuming passion and therefore TV wasn't an option for me. When, at last, I did have time for TV it was so very different to the sixties as I remembered that time. Haven't been greatly interested since.

That Mari50, is exactly how I feel. After a near miss at an airport where our wings were all but ripped off and taking off on Alderney on a runway too short for our overloaded little plane with,a gin soaked pilot, I'm not planning to fly again. Ever.

Hello Jacqui, I must admit I don't remember much about TV of the 70's; too busy with a high power job and trying to get away from it into farming. But I do recall the 60's, cardboard scenery that was always collapsing, actors trying to keep a straight face in a drama, but most of all ... The late 60's and early 70's programmes lacked todays vivid crime scenes and news reports. Not so much blood, guts spilled out, or other attempts at realism. Do we need such graphic detail? I don't think so. Real life is lurid enough without that. I do remember Blue Peter with John Noakes and Peter Purvis. A far cry of the cheap copy that was Magpie. I even saw the first episode of Coronation Street on someone else's TV. Thought it was rubbish and haven't bothered since. I'm told it's still running. Yes, past TV offering were so much better, so much more light hearted. I much prefer them.

Hic!

What other could Johnson have said that would have made matters more clear? If the Great British public is not aware of the scale of this problem, the scale of our economic and financial crisis, and don't know by now how to take care of themselves and others then there's little hope for us if we ever attain 'normal' again. We've had wall to wall C19 media coverage 24/7, experts screaming at us at every chance of a moment of fame, journos writing and speaking by the yard ... how does Johnson better that? How may he hold our hands and walk us through? It's all been out there for us. What we should and should not do. If some people want to be an exception to the rules, as occurs in most walks of life now, then let them. Let's just be sure the penalties fit the crime. I'm no great fan of Johnson but it is we who will dig ourselves out of this hole, not him. All he may do is advise. It is we who must take all appropriate measures setting down selfishness and using our better judgement.

That's my experience too. The roots are like tangled spaghetti. The only success I've seen with Weedkiller was using it neat on a cluster of ground elder which grew around a highly favoured rose bush. Bit expensive though.

Dwarf? I guess I am too at only 5'3". Welcome to our little club.

Beezer bantam, Starfire and my ultimate was the Lightning 650. Very sadly that 650 was not as fast as the smaller Japanese bikes hitting the UK market at the time, but it was one hell of a beast when roused. Flogged my to my alcoholic father, a repressed biker it seems. He used to ride with a skinful and no licence. I bought him an AA road map book because so often he got lost.

I believe we will all be so much more sane and less frightened when wall to wall coverage of this pandemic ceases. For myself, I'm utterly fed up with meaningless statistics, talking heads spouting meaningless words and mantras and an endless stream of 'experts,' parading their opinions. `I also believe such an excess of expert opinion, especially when no two can agree, is spreading more than enough confusion. What am I looking forward to? A return to a more normal media.

Are you sure about the dogs? My lead Collie who died last year was partial to a rather large beaker of home brew red. Had to wean him, and myself, off it.

Hello Collie, it's very good to hear from you. I lived in Eire in the late eighties during the so called Troubles. Are you in Eire? I also stayed in Belfast for a month. Dreadful! You ask me about this year so far. It's difficult to discern the fine detail of political and financial machinations going on way above our heads. But most certainly it is happening. I believe we are still in Act 1 of, perhaps, a 5 act drama. This part is akin to a factory being shut down while new machinery is installed, fresh bosses appointed, new ways of working implemented and fresh wage/salary arrangements set in place. When that factory re-opens even the most die-hard corporate man will not like these new arrangements. The shop floor man will have no choice but work on though both men will outwardly praise the new system. The phrase, 'A New Way of Living,' has already come out of the mouth of a leading UK politicianspeaking on TV. I prefer not to think about that. As to future acts in this drama ... we will see when the time comes, but I cannot but help reflect, when the end of each World War came the old ways did not return. Instead, a new reality quickly emerged. It was in that emergence the Silver Surfers generation was born so we know no different. At the end of the Great War great social changes took place. Votes for women, the rise of Trade Union power, a small national pension for older folk giving them the opportunity to retire or work less, the advent of Council Housing and many lesser changes which amounted to a social upheaval. The end of the Second War finished the power of landed gentry with inheritance tax, opened up National Health and Social Security provisions, brought in egalitarianism thus opening up every manner of advancement for working class young people. In just twenty years this country became unrecognisable to our Victorian grand parents! Even the monarchy has morphed into something different. It has been said by someone, to be a successful politician requires one to be a convincing liar and a calculating opportunist. The West has those in abundance. The days of, 'my word is my bond,' and honour are consigned to history. We're no longer guided by religious institutions but instead by our insatiable desires for everything. 'If it feels good, do it!' The Chinese have been happy to satisfy those desires, and cheaply. But that could well come to an end soon. I'm afraid the days of plenty almost certainly are as much history as the wars I spoke of. Having spent twenty five years in farming I believe the days of cheap food in an abundance are already ended. We just haven't noticed yet. So where do the artful politicians come in? They're the grease monkeys applying axel grease liberally to every gear wheel to ensure a smooth transition from one act of this drama to another. No one dares tell the truth. Or to put it another way, who does know the truth? Not me! I'm just guessing from history.

I couldn't agree more, PurpleHat. The recipe for rob must be in the loft. I expect to search up there tomorrow.

Yes. I'll miss a very pleasant and rewarding time. I know there is so many less fortunate folk in cities and worse, high rise blocks, with kids, and my heart goes out to them. I won't miss the wall to wall 24/7 news coverage and commentator's meaningless opinions. I won't miss endless and meaningless statistics, or scientists and politicians lamely digging themselves out of a huge hole late every afternoon or failing to explain away the vast discrepancies in death counts and short supply of PPE. I will miss hearing about the heroism of the many and being glad for the sacrifice of the few. Humanity reaching up to it's highest. I had not thought to know of such valour in my lifetime. I will miss the reason to stop a shop assistant and say, thanks mate, you're doing a bloody marvelous job keeping us fed, I'll happily buy you a pint. And I'll miss the lack of crowds in shops, all jostling to get what they want at another's discomfort. We'll look back one day and say, they weren't bad days, were they?

I'll look out Grand Mother's recipe for you.

Yes, Purplehat, even after just seven weeks or so of lockdown nature is again taking over in places. The numbers of birds in this isolated spot is remarkable, far more than at any time since we've lived here. I'm not big on butterflies but there's a few jigging around that I've never seen before. The only down side at the moment is a new variety of oilseed rape, rather shorter stems, which is in full flower everywhere. Until this spring I've not been affected by the stuff, even though combining very many hundreds of acres of it was my job every year. This spring, however, my wife tells me I've got hayfever! Perish the thought. But in a supermarket queue a few days ago, sneezing and coughing truly isolated me from others. A good night's heavy rain has settled much of the pollen now. Bumble bees are a wonderful sight amidst the rape. This year there's more than ever. There's a noticable increase in cattle numbers this year. It seems they're on every available pasture. Young beef animals ... what a lovely sight! One farm we pass frequently now has two magnificent Charolais bulls. It was a Charolais cross bull that kicked me in the right knee while mounting. These many years later arthritis in that knee reminds me of him every day. Another magnificent beast. Yes, far too many farms are owned by investment trusts or insurance companies. They're gambling on land prices increasing as demand for UK food increases. Farm managers? Well, I had a fine example on a group of farms in the Vale of York. A young chap, fresh out of college who saw no need to wear overalls, just sports jacket and flannels. Trained at Cirencester, our premier agricultural college, he rode to hounds and owned a couple of hunters but couldn't plough a straight furrow. What's worse, he didn't want to know! We farm workers were plotting to dunk him in the slurry lagoon when the farm's owner sacked him. That lad is now a senior man with the Dept., Environment, managing something in a three piece suit. His picture appears in several places on the internet. It upsets me to see so few men working the land and the amount of heartless heavy machinery growing yearly. Men walk the fields, know the land as they know their children. A smell of humus-rich soil tells me it's in good heart and will give good yields. A tractor can't do that. I'm repeatedly told times must change. Where farming is concerned times have taken a wrong turning. But I'm what I used to call an old boy, now. It is best if I keep my own counsel until asked, don't you think?

So true!

That's a very fair comment. It's cheap to dream but realizing that dream may be quite disappointing. Fortunately, I've finished up not too far from my origins and even though I'm Norfolk and now live in North Suffolk it took yje locals about twenty years to accept that I might just be able to plough a field, rear cattle and pigs and repair my own house. Perhaps it would have been easier if were a drinker and would go down the pub!

Hello Purplehat, it's good to hear from you. In my opinion, nothing has changed for the better in farming. Traditional farm labour, of which I was but one, has been replaced by heavy machinery. Gone are the days when 250 acres of mixed farm would support four families and even employ gipsies as seasonal labour for peas, beet hoeing and even hedge laying. Now it's just about producing ever more money for the land owner. At least, that is the case in East Anglia and the Vale of York where I've spent the most time working the land. Like you, I too have childhood memories of lanes and paths; being sent out by my granny to dig horseradish or collect elderberries. She made a rob; cubes of hard jelly heavily flavoured with elderberry which we diluted with hot water and drank in winter to ward off colds. Beet the kaolin poultice - horrid stuff. Friars balsam was even worse. No, elderberry rob for me. There is a hundred and twenty acre field at the bottom of my garden. Clay soil, utterly devoid of life or decaying vegetable matter. In uncultivated corners it grows nothing but a mat of weeds. I scythe them down to stop my own land being weed-bound. I've no wish to engage in political stuff here, but the EU central planning, and reliance on 'experts' who've only ever studied agriculturre in college, has been a disaster for our farming. Central planning in farming just doesn't work. It's the farmer who knows his land and the weather patters best, not someone sitting in an office. The Soviets tried to make the farmers of the Ukranian 'bread basket,' run their farms the same way as those north of Moscow in a much colder climate. It just doesn't work. But on a lighter note, locally we have seen the re-introduction of the red squirrel and one farmer a few miles away has discretely re-introduced otters for flood control, and it's working! But, until we cease these poisonous sprays many insects will not re-appear. I hope, before my days come to an end, to see farming come full circle and carry on in a way of husbanding the land and loving both the farm and the surrounding environment. Someday!

It's good to hear from you too and to know you're still well. This last couple of weeks I've been largely away from Silver Surfers. The weather here in Suffolk has been warm and dry, perfect for rebuilding my polytunnel and all the woodwork inside. It was all but destroyed in the last storm in March. Now we have a few days of welcome rain. I say welcome although I'm not sure my Collies feel the same way! Wisdom. There's much wisdom about people to be had in the Bible's Book of Proverbs. Largely Solomon's wisdom, it points clearly to the lack in so many of today's luminaries who depend on their intelligence or cunning. My farming career began with what was then an old farmer, husbanding his land and livestock in the old ways. That farm was so productive leaving today's grain farmers in the shade. The EU systematically destroyed traditional GB farming, replacing it with agri-businessmen. However, in the next very few years our farmers will need to retreat to those older methods and find enormous benefits in greatly increased production. That old farming wisdom made a man with 200 acres very comfortable indeed whereas today 2,000 acres of fine arable land here in the East functions because of enhanced EU subsidies and ever increasing libations of artificial fertilizer and chemicals. All at a huge cost. But you must forgive me PurpleHat. I had a twenty five year love affair with farming. That love remains in my heart. To live amidst modern farming hurts me. It lacks the wisdom of the old ones. It's a business not a love affair. Our farming will again prosper when men have that same romance in their hearts.

It is a flaw in our society that we place such emphasis on academic ability. Sadly, academic achievement doesn't of it'self provide wisdom. That is such a precious gift that we Brits are so in need of. Wisdom. I often have a chat with one of our dustmen. (He prefers that title). A village lad like me, we share the wise thoughts of those who were old when we were so much younger. We reflect on present times through those old eyes. What may be changed and what must be accepted and endured. Oh, what a calm, positive difference to our alarmist media. This could be so much a better place to live if we trusted wisdom rather than spurious academic qualifications. Trusted maturity and soundness of mind rather than the unstable flights of fancy of our youth orientated media and government.

Whilst I agree in principle with Pat's sentiments below, I should once again sound a note of caution. I'm a West Norfolk man, a village lad who spent 25 years my round the UK in farming, so I know a little about moving into unfamiliar communities. But Norfolk is akin to rural North Yorkshire. The people are very reserved and generally resent the intrusion of in-comers. My wife is a small town Worcestershire lass who's lived in Norfolk more than 30 years. Only now is she seeing acceptance. Generally, wherever I've lived in Britain local folk keep their distance and remain in their own social groups. But, Norfolk and North Suffolk have been cut off from the rest of Britain for almost 1,000 years, until the railways came and much later the M11. Locally, life is very different from even small towns elsewhere. Genuine Norfolk families know the pedigree of almost everyone they meet, except in-comers, and that makes them wary. You'll find that in most parts of the UK. In short, you'll probably pay a high price for an indifferent property and socialise with other in-comers from the South. No change then. No, my thoughts are not positive. Over the years I've seen many in-comers upstakes and move back to their roots, often losing an awful lot of money in the process. Disillusionment is a bitter pill indeed. It may make even the bad things in life look quite acceptable. Nonetheless, if you can survive and prosper more than five years in rural Norfolk I'll happily buy you a drink!

Yes, Jeanmark, similarly with me during my first week working near Thirsk. Having just been employed the run a pig farm I asked the owner how we did pregnancy testing in sows. (There are a few methods, some more reliable than others). He replied,'The bar!' as if I should have known. Having spent a few days looking for this magical bar, and then not knowing what I'd be expected to do with it if ever found, I asked the boss again. 'The bloody bar lad,' and wrote it on the wall in chalk. "BOAR!" Seems obvious now.

No, I can't say I am. Fortunately, sleep comes easily and my more urgent problem is getting up in the morning. After a lifetime of getting up at all hours of the day and night to work, usually sacrificing hours of sleep, since retiring 8 am is my earliest time. The trouble is, it's so easy to turn over these days until, that is, my wife notices my absence.

It's odd this subject has gained fresh momentum. Only this afternoon our former village copper and I were idly talking - he's been retired 10 years now - and got onto the subject of language. He said when he was interviewing 16-17 year olds he could barely understand them. They spoke to fast and in a street lingo unintelligible almost everyone else. Similarly, now he's got a desk job in the constabulary, he is required to vet reports and official documents prepared by young coppers. They make official statements in street lingo expecting an aged magistrate to understand them. May I suggest it is vital we have a common language all may understand and respond in. OK, social sites like Facebook are one thing but officialdom is another. A misunderstanding could so easily result in an unwarranted sentence.

Yes teejay, this nation would be a far better place if we admired worthy people rather than puffed up little people who are really of little or no consequence.

Somebody wrote in the online press ... are we exchanging our adulation of massive celeb egos for the simple, transparent and straightforward values of Captain Moore? I for one hope so!

If I need a doctor I won't accept a digit

The problem with all news reporting, as I see it, is far too much comment and opinion is published/broadcast at the expense of hard core news reporting. This present crisis is a clear example. Wall to wall opinion from journos. Too many people engaged in vox pops, hungry for their five minutes of fame. In a nutshell, form over substance.