15 November 1951: They say ‘in the country there is all the food you want,’ but goods must all go out in the struggle to pay the labour bill
HEREFORD: When going by train I find it interesting to hear the opinions of my fellow travellers. Housing is naturally their main trouble. Townsfolk, I find, have a fixed idea about how well farmers are doing, and if they are disillusioned on that count they say: “But in the country there is all the food you want.” But it is the raw unconverted material. All leisure has gone, and the goods must all go out in the struggle to pay the labour bill. To feed an odd pig would be prohibitive. Eggs go to the egg-packers; butter does not produce itself in the milk churns that go off wholesale. Vegetables do not grow themselves and no labour can be diverted to kitchen gardens. There are no delightful old men now pottering about farms. Not so long ago there was Forty Sacks, who camped in Tau Mor* in the summer and whose weekly ration was easily collected as “a bit of scran” from all or any farmhouse. His transactions in rabbit skins or doing a bit of wood-sawing supplied him with extras. Had he so desired he could easily have earned money on jobs, but then he lived in a land of plenty and no one grudged him food. Then it was impossible to get away from a farmer’s wife without accepting some gift.
This season’s tomatoes ended up green but made good ketchup. The round green marrows did better than the white, which did not look as if they would keep, so some have been treated German fashion and pickled with vinegar and a small amount of spice and golden syrup.
*Possibly Ty-Mawr
