On Survival and a Colour Issue.

I noticed the other day that one of the bigger fields to the east of Church Lane is heavily laden with barley, and an even bigger field to the west of the lane is equally heavily laden with wheat. This is heartening because it means that even if Armageddon should descend tomorrow, even if Mr Putin decides to take over the world, even if all the shipping lanes are closed off and Britain becomes an island again, at least we shall have bread and beer to see us through the winter.

And there’s even better news: lots more fields that are also very big have ample crops of maize coming through, so we shall also be able to feed ourselves silly on a diet – albeit repetitive – of corn on the cob sandwiches. And that affords an additional benefit: if we live off nothing other than bread and corn all winter, we’ll all be yellow by the time spring comes around. So then if the Russians do invade, they’ll get very confused because they’ll think they went the wrong way and invaded China by mistake.

(I didn’t mean to say that. I didn’t. Chinese people are not yellow. The Yellow Peril is a propaganda myth invented by 1960s British tabloids and I’m really very sorry I fell for it. Truly. It’s just that sometimes the joke blinds you to a proper sense of propriety. Hello nice Chinese people, and welcome as long as you come in peace. Sorry again.)

One problem: we have the barley and the water to brew the beer, but where will we get the hops? I suppose somebody will have to walk to Kent and fetch a bag or two before the Russians cross the Channel and squash them.

Doesn’t the brain come up with some strange stuff late at night?