Workers might come or pigs might fly

NO sooner had I typed the words “panic” into my computer last week than every petrol station within a 50-mile radius of my home appeared to run out of diesel.

Perhaps I should stop writing columns, particularly ones which try to scrutinise the psyche of the British public, because I always seem to be jinxed by own words.

Just as last year’s proud boast that I wouldn’t succumb to buying rolls and rolls of toilet paper almost ended messily, my “I’m better than this” attitude to the fuel panic last week resulted in a Saturday wondering if my car could run on fumes.

Eventually I found a petrol station which still had some premium diesel. As a nod to the situation I added £30 worth to the tank, wincing at the additional cost.

And as I went to pay I overheard the cashier and manager of the fuel station discussing how they were going to squeeze the fuel tanker bringing supplies on to the forecourt while there were so many queuing cars in the way.

I uttered what was probably the cliche of the day, that I really was on red and needed to get home.

The apologetic cashier explained I was the least of her problems as my miserly amount was overshadowed by the hundreds of pounds-worth of fuel being poured into petrol tanks, cans and hot water bottles by other drivers.

So after that long preamble, it’s with a certain reticence that I turn my attention to this week’s “nonBrexit related crisis”, a shortage of butchers, as well as supplies of carbon dioxide, necessary to kill and process pigs.

It’s not taken the tabloid press too long to make the connection between pork, sausages, ham, Christmas and *mega panic klaxon* PIGS IN BLANKETS.

At this point my column could reach a level of smug that even Katie Hopkins could only dream of.

You see, not only do I probably have a couple of packets of pigs in blankets lurking in the freezer after last year’s cancelled Christmas but I also used to keep my own pigs.

If I was still hobby farming, I would have access to the small local abbatoir and artisan butcher who used to humanely slaughter and process them for me.

Unfortunately though I have gone soft and really struggle with the process of eating my friends, however delicious the pork chops.

And it is that which makes me not really want to joke about the acute welfare disaster now facing the pig industry because of a shortage of butchers. Thousands of animals which are ready for consumption face being slaughtered and their carcasses discarded due to a lack of workers in the supply chain.

The uninitiated might question why the farmers don’t just keep the pigs for longer. Surely, the fatter, the better?

Not so, as I know from my own experience. Pigs need a precise meat to fat ratio when they are killed, otherwise the meat becomes unpalatable.

Plus farmers, whether they rear their pigs outside or indoors, face welfare issues if they run out of space for ever-expanding animals.

Setting them free to eat apples in the forest, is also only a fairytale option.

But it isn’t a welfare crisis that the majority of the meat-eating public is concerned with. It’s the prospect of a festive seasons without pigs in blankets, a gammon joint or sausage rolls.

But while the Government chews over solutions, there’s only 86 sleeps left until Christmas.

Talk of luring back European workers on temporary visas is a bit like locking the door after the pigs have bolted.

It’s not taken the tabloids long to make the connection between pork, sausages, Christmas and pigs in blankets

Thousands of pigs could be culled because there are not enough workers to slaughter and process them