
© Colin Cross, Going Postal 2025
There has been much huffing, puffing and pearl clutching, from the usual suspects, where the subject of “interference” in politics is concerned. Whether it be financial (the hypocrisy runs deep in this particular river) or, and far more entertainingly the type of “interference” that Elon Musk and, more latterly, JD Vance, have recently treated us to, the end result, so far, has been well worth the entry fee. Musk, for all his faults (spaceships, $billions, Nazi salutes, self driving cars, a MAGA hat) certainly has the measure of Starmer and he isn’t frightened to let us know just what he thinks about our current governments risible performance on a range of topics. The spat between VP Vance and the political has been (and latterly the Lou Costello to Alastair Campbells’ Bud Abbott) Rory Stewart has been something to savour. I “worked” with Mr. Stewart some years ago and found him to be personable enough, if more than a little intense. I have no doubt he’s an intelligent and well read man, although, as his tilt at both the Tory leadership and the post of London Mayor proved, he isn’t really suited to the rough and tumble of “modern” politics. Mr. Vance, on the other hand, seems right at home and however much Rory would like to make the whole thing about which of them is the more clever, I think he’s destined to come off second best. Rory was born into his version of “greatness”, whereas JD’s had to learn life the hard way. I know who I’d want backing me up in a tight corner.
One of the loudest voices decrying interference in politics, especially financial interference, has been a chap called Dale Vince (he got himself in a right old tizzy when he thought Elon Musk was going to be funding Reform). He’s been much in the news lately for all manner of reasons and he strikes me as a pretty unsavoury fellow. He’s a very wealthy man, who’s made a fortune (or so it’s been reported) from “Green” projects, for which he’s been given large, taxpayer funded, subsidies. He’s reputed to have donated £millions to Labour prior to the election, for which, just like Lord Alli, he expected nothing in return. Recently Ed Milliband (or one of his minions), The Energy Minister, has approved a Solar Farm Project for Mr. Vinces company, Ecotricity. Mr. Vince, a perma-tanned man-child vegan, who dresses like a twenty year old radical student who doesn’t own a mirror and has a hairstyle to match, called the claims by local councillors that the award of the contract was financially motivated “cheap and cynical”. It remains to be seen whether or not Ed Milliband, the ukulele playing, Greta Thunberg obsessed eco-zealot on a revenge mission (who can forget either the bacon sandwich, or The Edstone) was influenced, in any way, by the aforementioned donations. Questions, quite rightly, are being asked.

© Colin Cross, Going Postal 2025
It’s a job that now requires my annual attention. Following several years of making excuses why it didn’t need doing every year, I decided to bite the bullet three or four years ago and give the glass a good clean down before the season started in earnest. This year I decided to gird my loins, don my increasingly tight “waterproof” trousers and get it done on Wednesday the 23rd of January. There were warnings about a bit of weather heading our way, but, for whatever reason, I didn’t count it as much of a threat and duly got on with the task at hand. The operation itself went so well that I decided, for the first time in a couple of years, to give the outside a wash down too. Any road up, a morning inside the house and a couple of hours outside, working from the field, saw the job finished. “Is it as clean as it could be”? asked the Head of Buildings and Maintenance. “No, it isn’t, but it’s a lot cleaner than it was.” I replied, somewhat cynically. I was cold and not a little damp, so we left it at that.

© Colin Cross, Going Postal 2025
Hindsight is, or so they say, a wonderful thing and by Friday lunchtime my head was full with reasons as to why I should have waited a week or so before going to all the kerfuffle of setting the pressure washer up and donning the tight pants. We’ve had damage before, some of it quite severe, but I don’t think we’ve lost this much glass, in one go, for at least ten years. The wind came from the south and was strong enough to move the south facing end of the house from its foundations, although, somewhat surprisingly, it remained intact and was reasonably easily lifted back into place. The west facing side is sheltered by the other house to a certain extent and we lost three side panes and two roof panes. The east facing side took the brunt.

© Colin Cross, Going Postal 2025
I really shouldn’t have gone inside, but I wanted to see for myself just how bad the damage was. There are sixty six full panes, six half panes and six skylights on each side of the greenhouse. Much of the broken glass is in the field, but the east facing side lost eleven full panes and a skylight. I didn’t venture very far into the house, or stay for long. The wind was still gusting quite strongly and falling broken glass has a tendency to be quite pointy and, therefore, a bit dangerous. Despondent rather than devastated, I reported the situation to the maintenance department and went home to contemplate the clean up. As you can see, rotovation was already underway.

© Colin Cross, Going Postal 2025
I was resoundingly bollocked for even going in there at all and decided to leave the start of the clear up until such time as it was safer. I wasn’t going to be round there on my own, given that there were large pieces of glass hanging precariously from the roof. Saturday came and went and I woke early on Sunday morning feeling not too chipper. Headache, runny nose, gravelly throat and a harsh, dry cough. I decided I’d take a couple of days to myself, but the dog still needed walking, so I got wrapped up and wandered round to the farm, coughing and spluttering as I went, only to find that buildings and maintenance had taken it upon himself to clear up the detritus left by Eowyn and commence the repairs. TBF, I wouldn’t have been much help anyway, apart from a bit of fetching and carrying. I’d probably just have got in the way.

© Colin Cross, Going Postal 2025
The skylight we lost had been made redundant some time ago and fastened in place. Following the damage, all that was left was the hole where it once lived and the metal opening mechanism. It would have been easy (or so I’m told) to simply put a piece of glass into the void, but a new frame was constructed and the mechanism reconnected. At the same time a few repairs were made to the rest of the opening lights (we call them vents) and we (that’s the royal we) now have all of them functioning as they originally did. It’s an ill wind and all that.

© Colin Cross, Going Postal 2025
Some of the glass wouldn’t have been damaged had the structure of the frame been a little bit more robust. Eowyn exposed weaknesses in several of the timber glazing bars that hadn’t already been earmarked for replacement and these were duly replaced. Within a week the whole house was made more structurally sound and better ventilated. The biggest concern, apart from how I express my undying gratitude for the quality of work carried out, without sounding overly obsequious, is how little glass we have left in reserve. Another Eowyn and we’ll have to start buying it in!

© Colin Cross, Going Postal 2025
The usual suspects, a certain Mr Dale Vince included, (a man who wouldn’t really have a platform at all if politicians weren’t in thrall to, or in the pockets of, the greedy and inherently dishonest Klimate Katastrophe lobby) were out in force following the storm to tell us such things only happen due to anthropomorphic “Climate Change.” I think they know this to be a lie, but being honest about it doesn’t suit their agenda. Net Zero isn’t going to stop my greenhouse getting battered by winds every ten years or so, but it is going to make some unscrupulous and very dodgy people extremely wealthy. The latest load of old cobblers would have you believe that “Global Warming” (remember that old chestnut) will soon make us all colder. We’ve had eighteen months or so to “Save The Planet” for around fifty years now and we’re all still here (more or less). The Maldives haven’t sunk and Antarctica remains the frozen continent. In 1970 we were all about to freeze to death, by the 1980’s “acid rain” was going to see us all off, but it soon fell out of favour (rather than out of the sky) to be replaced with “global warming” which was predicted (in 1982) to “create the devastation of whole nations” within 20 years. In 2006, 2016 was the year of the “point of no return” according to Al Gore. By 2009 we had as little as 50 days to “get our act together” (according to Gordon Brown). You get the picture.
I don’t know how long the greenhouse has left to stand, but I’m guessing that, so long as there are those who want to cherish it and continue to maintain it, it’ll still be there long after all this guff is exposed for the nonsense it so obviously is.
© Colin Cross 2025