An admission
I made a big decision today. I came out as an Archers listener. Note that I said âlistener”, not âfan”. This is very important. I donât, for instance, feel the need to write to the BBC and complain that cows take about 300 days to be cured of mastitis, and NOT two weeks as the so-called writers believe1. Nor do I believe that Ambridge is a real place. I know this because:
- Everyone knows each other, and, more importantly, speaks to one another.
- Ambridge has a village shop, and people buy things in it every day.
- No one goes to a big supermarket.
- Everyone who lives in the village works in it. It is not full of people who visit at the weekends and find it âterribly convenient for the City - just a quick hop down the motorway in the Beemer on a Friday night”.
Despite all that, itâs blumminâ exciting at the moment. Mr. Smarmy-Love-Rat-Git-Face-Bastard (aka Brian Aldridge) has finally been found out, and now has to choose between sultry Irish temptress Siobhan, and long-suffering wife and cake-baker extraordinaire, Jennifer. Itâll all end in tears, you mark my words.
1When surfing briefly to check the correct recovery rate (I know - Iâm a sad sad person, but I aim for accuracy), I discovered that there is a journal called Udder Topics. I must subscribe immediately.
