Toxic spill landowner denies wrongdoing
The owner of Home Farm, the source of the
toxic contamination in the river Am, defied his critics this week and said he
had nothing to be ashamed of.
Brian Aldridge was shouted down at a
chaotic public meeting on Wednesday when he offered to finance a ‘Home Farm fun
day’ to make up for the inconvenience caused by the toxic spill.
Parish councillor Emma Grundy and local
activist Kirsty Miller were among those who accused the Aldridge family of
showing contempt for the environment and being concerned only with profits.
But Mr Aldridge insisted he knew nothing
about the poisons that had been dumped on his land and said he was doing
everything he could to help the clear-up operation.
‘My daughter Alice says the family must be
a strong unit, and she knows a thing or two about strong units as she’s drunk several today already,’ he said.
Farming technology special!
In this week’s edition, we look at milking
parlour innovations and ask the key questions:
• how essential are diagnostics?
• swingover or doubled up?
• automatic or manual washing system?
• £200,000, £250,000 or £300,000?
• herringbone, rotary or something that
looks like a petrol station?
Continued
on p. 94…..
Quiz: What kind of drinker are you?
You may enjoy a tipple, but could your
drinking personality be damaging your
health? Take our quick quiz to find out:
1. What do you think of ‘Dry January’?
A. Never heard of it, darling.
B. It’s a terrible idea to stop me
drinking.
C. I prefers dry cider.
D. I did it to support Pip. I’m
going to be a dad.
2. Would you ever drink and drive?
A. Course not! That’s what men
are for.
B. Not with a drink actually in my hand,
no.
C. Only with old Bartleby; he
knows the way home.
D. Not any more! I’m going to be a
dad.
3. If someone is getting a round in, what
do you order?
A. G & T or Champagne, depending on who’s paying.
B. Two large Pinot Grigios, one for each hand.
C. A medicinal double brandy for me farmers’ lung.
D. Something to wet the baby’s head. I’m going to be a dad!
How did you do?
Mostly As: You are a jolly social drinker,
technically known as a ‘Lilian’.
Mostly Bs: You are showing worrying signs
of being an ‘Alice.’ Seek help.
Mostly Cs: You are an opportunistic
drinker, commonly called a ‘Joe’.
Mostly Ds: You are a smug reformed drinker,
otherwise known as a ‘Toby’.
The Trials of Kirsty Miller
In the latest chapter of our passionate
winter saga, by award-winning romantic novelist Lavinia Catwater, our heroine
has a thrilling encounter that may change her life forever…
‘Kirsty! Coo-ee! Have you got a minute?’
Kirsty turned to see Susan Carter hurrying
after her. She took off her tinfoil-lined balaclava and face mask, and shook out her hair.
‘Sorry Susan, I couldn’t hear you,’ she said. ‘But now the Am is contaminated,
we should all be wearing these, don’t you think?’
‘I’m not sure,’ frowned Susan. ‘I’ve always
found my tabard perfectly adequate. But listen Kirsty, I’ve had a great idea
and I think you can help me!’
‘Of course, if I can!’ said Kirsty,
intrigued. ‘Would you like some of my skull-and-crossbones stickers for your
yogurt pots? After all, any local product could be poisoned, you know!’
‘No, no.’ For some reason, Susan seemed
irritated. ‘Quite the opposite, in fact!’ She smiled conspiratorially. ‘Helen
has greenlit my plans for a premium healthy
goats’ milk kefir brand!’
‘That’s wonderful – but what’s it got to do
with me?’ Kirsty looked at her watch. Those leaflets about the long-term
effects of TCE wouldn’t deliver themselves…
‘Well, you were so upset at the public
meeting about being poisoned by swimming in the Am, but you’re looking the
picture of health!’ beamed Susan. ‘So I thought you could star in our
advertising campaign and say you’ve been miraculously cured by the kefir! How
about it, Kirsty? Kirsty? Come back!’
But Kirsty had already jammed her balaclava
on her head and was striding away towards Arkwright Lake, in search of peace,
quiet and possibly a snipe…
*
Kirsty had hoped to find toxin-free
solitude at the bird hide. But as she approached she could hear hammering and
the sound of someone singing ‘Land Of My Fathers’ in an off-key baritone. ‘What the – Oh, it’s you!’ she gasped as a
tall, burly figure suddenly appeared from behind a broken side-panel.
‘Why yes miss,’ said the figure. ‘Philip
Moss I am, and you’ll be the spirited young lady I clashed swords with at the
public meeting. But you will oblige me by furnishing me with your name, miss!
For I have ridden out to hounds several times since we met and I fear I have
forgot it.’
In spite of herself, Kirsty felt a frisson
of attraction to this rough-hewn character, who was clearly repairing the panel
in an ethical manner and quite possibly, free of charge. ‘Kirsty Miller, sir!’
she said. ‘And I know who you are. You may try to dazzle me with your knowledge
of the difference between male and female pochards but let me warn you, it will
take more than a fine way with The Observer Book of Birds to win me over!’
Philip Moss laughed good-naturedly. ‘I can
see I have met my match in you, Miss Miller!’ he said. ‘But count upon it, I
shall have you down to the hunt kennels to see my little owls quicker than a raptor on a grouse moor!’
‘You do presume too far, sir!’ Kirsty
tossed her head. ‘I bid you good day.’ But as she strode back down the hill,
she could still feel Philip Moss’s eyes, like chips of blue ice, burning into her …
To be
continued…
That’s
enough, Lavinia dear. Have you been reading Georgette Heyer again? Ed.
Bravo Lavinia! Do you by any chance also write as Sylvie Krin, I wonder?
ReplyDeleteAh yes, Sylvie taught Lavinia all she knows.... although Lavinia is very much younger of course *sniff*. Thank you!
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