Illegal Irrigation

An illegal irrigant, probably.

It’s looking like a very bad harvest this year in Tolly Maw. It’s been hot for weeks now and without rain the corn has turned brown leading to the bright-eyed children within spending more time chasing the tiny ice-cream van about the lanes than making ramblers cry for help into their iWants in the early, murderin’ hours. We’ve had no rain and in previous years Mervyn assures me this has not been a problem. But this year and our council is heavily weighted towards the right, here the Tolly Maw Defence League. There’re only three of them but two of them voted and one’s a dog, and if hard of hearing then they make up for that with hate and idiocy.

And it’s going to be a very bad harvest this year, because the village council believes that everything wrong with Tolly Maw is down to Irrigation. The former open-weir policy towards irrigation means that we fought a war, or kicked a ball, or haven’t got any jobs presumably watering the fields because of excessive irrigation. None of the council are very sure what an irrigant looks like, but they think they're something to do with poles. So we don’t have any poles now, which only affects the TMLD (sic) as no one else has a flag either.

I asked the council if they meant perhaps our friends from Poland? They scoffed at the very idea, pointing out quite rightly the number of Poles that flew with the RAF and all the Polish troops that fought with a reputation for being double-hard and mad-courageous bastards in the second world war.

But it’s going to be a very bad year for the harvest. And round here they blame all the irrigation. That and the damn foreign Tibetans tunnelling under the fields and scampering away with all the carrots, like Bugs Bunny, only orange.