Scotland: National Rural Network
Connecting Rural Scotland - Promoting Rural Growth

I was cutting a hedge for Frank ("Cut my hedge to six foot and use this plank as a measure" he barked, so now he's known as ‘Frank the Plank') when ‘Mad Mick', ‘Laid Back Larry' and ‘Roddy the Beard' passed by in a rusty white van.

‘Roddy the Beard' has recently been renamed ‘Roddy the No-Beard 'after a dog decided that his chin harboured a hairy intruder and attacked with some savagery - oooh, aaah, that was a sore one Roddy. Like me, they are gardeners of the district - stubbly men in T-shirts splattered with garden debris, a flask of tea on the dash and sticky confectionary papers in the ash. I gave them a nonchalant flick of the eyebrows given that I was up a ladder at the time with a plank in one hand and a petrol hedge cutter in the other.

‘Mad Mick' was driving. He flashed a toothy grin and honked the horn. Roddy simply acknowledged me by not acknowledging me at all. Subtle, eh? Of course the very concept of a coalition of local gardeners working in tandem to improve profit margins is not a new one, but ‘Roddy the No-Beard' and his companions are unlikely bedfellows. We live in strange times. I even spotted them sharing a packet of Chocolate Hobnobs in a lay-by on the A9 recently. Extraordinary behaviour.

I'm not a coalition man myself and prefer to brave the financial crisis alone, although if Charles Kennedy and John Thurso decide to quit politics and take up gardening I might have room in my Citroen Berlingo for them. Charles could hold the plank and John could act as a suave gardening accessory (a dispenser of Hobnobs perhaps?), although he would have to be vigilant with that moustache of his - ‘John the Tash' could easily follow in Roddy's footsteps and become ‘John the No-Tash' if he's not careful.

Charles is a good man - an honest politician with little airs and graces. I went to see him some years ago about traffic lights (not a riveting topic at the best of times) and he seemed most riveted. Yes, when Charles is involved, there's always the possibility that something might happen.

I have always been fascinated by politicians, and in particular the language employed by such characters. You can't survive in politics alone with a toothy grin, a packet of Hobnobs and a honk on the horn if you're running the country, no, most certainly not. You need a bit more than that.

I would not have made a good politician myself. "I'm phoning to talk about your piles" was the opening line of a telephone conversation recently to one of my gardening clients, at which point I received a most interesting reply. I should have said: "I'm phoning to talk about your piles of garden rubbish". Just imagine if a politician went about their business in such a haphazard and sloppy way? Only Boris Johnson or Ann Widdicombe could get away with that.

In 2005, whilst shopping in Salisbury, we popped along to the Cathedral to admire the spire. Quite coincidentally it was the venue for Ted Heath's funeral, so we shared space on the Cathedral Green with Maggie Thatcher, John Major, Charles Kennedy (I didn't bring up the traffic light issue - not an appropriate time), Michael Howard and a few other influential political figures from a by-gone era (apart from Charles, of course, who is still going strong).

It will be fascinating in the years to come to see whether Clegg and Cameron will be viewed as influential politicians of their time or are simply relegated to the footnotes of history. I wonder, also, which of the two major coalitions of 2010 - the Clegg and Cameron one, or Roddy and friends - will last the longest? Time will tell. Chocolate Hobnobs may be the key.

Rural Ramblings Archive