Backing farmers – on weekdays only

SO the great British public are all behind great British farmers. Apparently. At least that’s the crux of what I’m reading and hearing and seeing everywhere at the moment.

But don’t let’s get carried away by this euphoric message. Don’t let’s kid ourselves that every person in this country believes its farmers are heroes. Because to every rule there are exceptions. And I thought you’d like to hear of a few.

Case 1. A farmer near Newbury was combining a couple of days ago when a man entered the field and plonked himself in the path of the machine. Thinking perhaps he had a mental issue the farmer phoned his wife, who duly arrived only to be berated by the intruder. Who, it seems, turned out to be a nearby resident who was incandescent with rage. Why? Because, apparently, the tractor and trailer loaded with grain had driven past his house not once but twice that day throwing up a dust cloud which had greatly inconvenienced a family gathering. The incident is now preserved on YouTube for all to see.

Case 2. Following this I began to make inquiries around the country to see how common this type of incident is becoming and it didn’t take me long to unearth another one in Hampshire. Another combining operation (this time on a Saturday), another furious interruption by a local resident, this one a City worker, who proceeded to inform the farmer that he had bought his not insubstantial country retreat for a bit of peace and tranquillity but he (the farmer) had wrecked his weekend by generating noise and dust all day.

The farmer did his best to explain that crops had to be combined when they were ready so he had no option but to start harvesting.

However, the message appeared not to have got through because the following day as he took a break from more combining there was a knock on his door. Opening it he beheld the complainant’s wife who launched another salvo, demanding of him why he thought he had the right to work at weekends and pointing out she was holding a garden party that afternoon and had the right to expect some peace and quiet for it.

For a moment the farmer thought about suggesting that she bring her guests out onto the field so they could see where the bread for their cucumber sandwiches came from. But he thought better of it.

Case 3. A farmer silaging in the north of England finds the door of his tractor being wrenched open by a (lately arrived, apparently) local asking him what right he had to be carrying out such an operation which was wrecking his and his family’s health with the dust and diesel fumes, as well as upsetting his children.

All three of these confrontations could have warranted a retort from the farmers to the effect that cropping operations have to take place at the optimum time and cannot necessarily wait until Monday morning – when the second-homers will be back in their main residences.

But you cannot expect people who display such levels of ignorance to be capable of understanding, let alone accepting such a concept.

And then I hear of a village in Wiltshire where they are attempting to raise a petition to stop local farmers working after eight in the evening.

The great British public are, indeed, all behind great British farmers.

But only from Monday to Friday. And certainly not once they have settled down in front of the telly for the evening.