- Location
- Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk
The adage that a week is a long time in politics seems to be out of the window at the moment, when a single day can take quite a while to lurch past. I can’t say I like the feel of much of it, although looking for a bright spot in the murk, I suppose it does give us the occasional chance to spot a voice of reason. Perhaps over-exposure of the others will put us off the divisive populist narcissists on both sides, and back to a place of rational discussion. I wouldn’t hold your breath though.
Will we have another General Election before the end of October? I don’t know. I am pretty sure that it wouldn’t resolve everything, let alone salve the wounds now. I would guess that a General Election now would see the worst hung Parliament we’ve had for a long time. I don’t think I could vote Tory, despite being naturally lifelong in the blue corner. I daresay I’d have to look at the yellows, although that would only be voting to deliberately leave things hanging. And I’m surely not the only one thinking like this.
It’s ironic that Labour desperate clinging to Wolfie Smith’s granddad makes them about as weak as they could be. Boris would never have got this far with a potent opposition – in fact, we probably wouldn’t have got to this point at all with half an opposition. But hey ho.
In all of it, there are some important things to remember. Firstly that the initial Brexit lobby was partly funded by that Aaron Banks bloke, and there seems to be a trail of rather odd cash in his footsteps, allegdly all the way back to Putin –who enjoys our chaos. And then, on the other hand the EU hierarchy still refuse to acknowledge their colossal wastage and pomposity – never forget they have 2 separate sets of buildings to meet in, using one for a few days each year- will only ever cause animosity by those who fund it, or actually work for a living. Why, I ask myself, can’t grownups look at these extremes, and find the level headed way forward?
Sadly, I don’t have much optimism, and am having to listen to floaty cumulous nimbus cloud music to keep my head on a level plane.
Happily for me, I have lots to occupy my little noggin out in the real world. We’ve sorted out the cows, and chucked them back on the common after rumpy pumpy with the bulls. Then, ostensibly, I finished the last of the baling over the bank holiday weekend. I don’t how it happens, but I almost always seem to end up baling those 6-7 tiny boney fields on far side of the valley over the busiest weekend of the year. I have to negotiate droves of grockles who descend on the beauty spots, including one of the narrowest bridges in Christendom. To get through this melee with all the harvest gear to get to my crop, returning with heavy loads of bales to thread through the picnicking splashing families and their abandoned cars, is testing. I kept my cool this year, and tried to move gear and bales early in the morning. The crop was heavy, made well, but hasn’t got a great deal of ‘nose’ to it, being late in the season. It’ll be better than snows balls mind. With these last 113 bales I’m thinking there’s over 1600 put by now.
Reckoning I’d finished, and stacking this last lot away beside the first lorry load of straw in, I got a call from a nearby pal. His rubber band baler had a poorly tummy – while mine was nailed successfully back together and going a treat. Could I pack a few for him? So I sent the boy over to do his first ever bit of contract baling. It was 36 bales of somewhat soggy lank stuff which tested both apprentice and baler. But all was soon done. Chuffed to be finally done, I spent a happy couple of hours cleaning out the baler, greasing everything before beddy-bye time. The very minute it was put away, I got another call. The same pal had cut more, and the ‘fix’ for his baler hadn’t worked. Could I come again? This time the boy found a few ewe lambs to shear, so the boss had to go. Another 32 bales of lank green swath went through without issue – as long as you remember to scrape all the rollers clean every 10 bales. Yuk.
Anyway, I cleaned it out and oiled it up again, and have firmly put it in its little shed til next summer …definitely.
-------------------------
Anton's articles are syndicated exclusively by TFF by kind permission of the author and WMN.
Anton also writes regularly for the Dartmoor Magazine and the NFU
He has published two books; the second "The Complete Bullocks" is still in print
http://www.anton-coaker.co.uk/book.htm
Will we have another General Election before the end of October? I don’t know. I am pretty sure that it wouldn’t resolve everything, let alone salve the wounds now. I would guess that a General Election now would see the worst hung Parliament we’ve had for a long time. I don’t think I could vote Tory, despite being naturally lifelong in the blue corner. I daresay I’d have to look at the yellows, although that would only be voting to deliberately leave things hanging. And I’m surely not the only one thinking like this.
It’s ironic that Labour desperate clinging to Wolfie Smith’s granddad makes them about as weak as they could be. Boris would never have got this far with a potent opposition – in fact, we probably wouldn’t have got to this point at all with half an opposition. But hey ho.
In all of it, there are some important things to remember. Firstly that the initial Brexit lobby was partly funded by that Aaron Banks bloke, and there seems to be a trail of rather odd cash in his footsteps, allegdly all the way back to Putin –who enjoys our chaos. And then, on the other hand the EU hierarchy still refuse to acknowledge their colossal wastage and pomposity – never forget they have 2 separate sets of buildings to meet in, using one for a few days each year- will only ever cause animosity by those who fund it, or actually work for a living. Why, I ask myself, can’t grownups look at these extremes, and find the level headed way forward?
Sadly, I don’t have much optimism, and am having to listen to floaty cumulous nimbus cloud music to keep my head on a level plane.
Happily for me, I have lots to occupy my little noggin out in the real world. We’ve sorted out the cows, and chucked them back on the common after rumpy pumpy with the bulls. Then, ostensibly, I finished the last of the baling over the bank holiday weekend. I don’t how it happens, but I almost always seem to end up baling those 6-7 tiny boney fields on far side of the valley over the busiest weekend of the year. I have to negotiate droves of grockles who descend on the beauty spots, including one of the narrowest bridges in Christendom. To get through this melee with all the harvest gear to get to my crop, returning with heavy loads of bales to thread through the picnicking splashing families and their abandoned cars, is testing. I kept my cool this year, and tried to move gear and bales early in the morning. The crop was heavy, made well, but hasn’t got a great deal of ‘nose’ to it, being late in the season. It’ll be better than snows balls mind. With these last 113 bales I’m thinking there’s over 1600 put by now.
Reckoning I’d finished, and stacking this last lot away beside the first lorry load of straw in, I got a call from a nearby pal. His rubber band baler had a poorly tummy – while mine was nailed successfully back together and going a treat. Could I pack a few for him? So I sent the boy over to do his first ever bit of contract baling. It was 36 bales of somewhat soggy lank stuff which tested both apprentice and baler. But all was soon done. Chuffed to be finally done, I spent a happy couple of hours cleaning out the baler, greasing everything before beddy-bye time. The very minute it was put away, I got another call. The same pal had cut more, and the ‘fix’ for his baler hadn’t worked. Could I come again? This time the boy found a few ewe lambs to shear, so the boss had to go. Another 32 bales of lank green swath went through without issue – as long as you remember to scrape all the rollers clean every 10 bales. Yuk.
Anyway, I cleaned it out and oiled it up again, and have firmly put it in its little shed til next summer …definitely.
-------------------------
Anton's articles are syndicated exclusively by TFF by kind permission of the author and WMN.
Anton also writes regularly for the Dartmoor Magazine and the NFU
He has published two books; the second "The Complete Bullocks" is still in print
http://www.anton-coaker.co.uk/book.htm
