To say the Very Old Farmer and the mayor do not get on would be an understatement. In fact the words 'mutual loathing' would be a poor reflection of their antipathy towards each other.
This animosity stretches back many years and, quite possibly, many generations. The most recent conflict was over the mayors decision to distribute bottled water to all the pensionable age villagers during the heat wave of 2012. The Very Old Farmer somehow imagined that as an old soldier all the water was for him and that the mayor was actually selling off the rest or '' letting that fancy woman at the crossroads have it ". That ' fancy woman at the crossroads ' being the little old widow in the orange crimplene housecoat.
We are reminded of the feud on our morning walk. The Village Fleuri Committee are toiling away on the gardens in front of the church. The lady on the lawn tractor has inadvertently started work on ground that belongs to the Very Old Farmer. This results in a twitching of the net curtains followed by a window being flung open. '' You can't bring your machines onto my land. It's mine not the mayors ! ". The 'not the mayors !' is followed by some linguistic flourishes that are best left untranslated. The lawn tractor beats a hasty retreat.
So it is that the whole village will be spruced up in readiness for the national floral village championships. All the village that is bar the strip of ground next to the Very Old Farmers house. This remains a wilderness of long grass, overgrown shrubs and rusting iron. A mayor free zone. Sophie finds this rustic wilderness a delight.
8 comments:
Could the Very Old Farmer's strip of ground be tactfully designated a 'wild life corridor' or 'biodiversity haven'? With avante garde art installations of course?
There isn't enough wilderness in our world. The little creatures and growing things need it. Surely it can be promoted as an environmental benefit to the village. I'm with Sophie. Give me a wild meadow over a mown lawn any day!
Like Sophie, I would find the rustic wilderness a delight. Go to it, Old Farmer!
Jo
Sounds suspiciously like the juvenile behaviour of our city council.
Don't you just love village politics.....an ancient feud the origins lost in the mists of time, a 'fancy woman' in orange crimplene......and a PON oblivious to it all but enjoying the resultant wilderness. Just magical !
I wonder if even they remember what started it!
It's like street theatre.
XXXOOO Bella & Roxy who would love the wild bit best.
Only the Very Old farmer and the Mayor will ever truly know what started the feuding between them many years ago....I doubt they themselves even remember what caused the rift after all this time.
I see the old kiln has still got its roof.....if only for a while....smile.
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