A View From (Inside) The Greenhouse; We’re All “Boomer Millionaires” Now!

Some people might call it bad luck, others would, I have little doubt, consider it bad management whereas others (possibly the majority) might even brand it as laziness. However you choose to view what happened, Storm Zack (not its real name) did quite a bit more damage upon arrival in our neck of the woods than might have been anticipated. Some months ago the B&M team acquired a decent sized, although somewhat flimsy (the significance of which will become clear), double width over and under garage door. It’s potential to fill one of the several openings in various structures around the farmstead had been discussed and shelved on more than one occasion. On the pre-storm Friday night it was laying in the field next to the south facing end of the greenhouse, doing nobody any real harm. On the Saturday morning it was (in several pieces) laying in the gap between the two greenhouses, having taken out four side panes and two roof panes which were in quite reasonable condition, so weren’t even on next years schedule for replacement. The disappointment was palpable, although neither myself of the entirety of the B&M department felt it quite the right time to apportion any blame which may or may not have needed apportioning. Life’s full of such challenges, it’s how you respond to them that counts, innit?

Zack (not its real name) didn’t need any outside help to take its toll of the roof though, with two more panes smashed and a roof-light partially dislodged from its moorings. These were in the next bay along from where new glazing bars had been installed, as part of the programme of works. I’m happy to report that there was no damage to either the structure or the glass in bays one and two, but the damage in bay three exposed to us the fact that the glazing bars were, in fact, rotten and they’d need to be replaced as simply replacing the glass, given we may see more strong winds, would be a pretty pointless exercise.

Although we have a stock of glass, recent winter and early spring weather “events” have led to it becoming a little depleted. As the other greenhouse is nothing more than a log shed now. What remains of its sides is mostly cladded with some multi-wall poly-carbonate sheets that I acquired some years ago. The timber roof’s on the verge of collapse, so the remaining glass is being utilised to replace the broken sheets, allowing us to hang onto said stock a little longer. This creates another problem; Do we (that’s the royal we) turn it into more outside growing space, or do we bite the bullet and buy some poly sheet to replace the glass and retain it as a shed. As with most things in this part of the world, the answer to this will be revealed in the fullness of time, which could be weeks, although its far more likely to be months, or even years. Whatever gets done, the continuing integrity of the growing house isn’t up for discussion, it’ll be kept in service as long as we’re able to keep it going. The benefits far outweigh the downsides (up to now) of making sure of this.

What you don’t need, when unscheduled maintenance/repairs have to be undertaken are other distractions; however, amongst the revitalised and burgeoning rabbit population we reckon there must be at least one of such ferocity and single-mindedness that it’s decided, whatever the obstacles put in its way, that the place for its next burrow will be in the newly rotovated, fertilised and raked over tomato patch. It had actually been gnawing at the makeshift wooden doorstop and although we managed to dissuade it from coming in the front door by repurposing an old fireguard, it simply dug under a sleeper and found its way in anyway. The battle is ongoing, but we’re hoping it’ll lose interest, or get a shovel blade to the back of its head, before it causes much more angst for us.

Meanwhile, planting of seeds continues apace, with more leeks on the go, along with radish, lettuce and a mix of beans and peas, both of which are showing a reluctance to germinate. I hope to have better news to impart on this situation next time around. 18 leeks are through, and I think 36 will be plenty for the first planting. I’m planning on having a second go, so this lot will be harvested quite early as “babies”, fingers crossed. The carrots are yet to germinate, but the onions (more on this next time) are poking through nicely. It’ll soon be time to call Burt back to work!

Apropos of nowt, really, beyond the fact that it managed to survive the winter without any care and attention at all (apart from the fact it happened to be on the potting table, under a leaky bit of roof and at least managed to get a drink). I’ve now potted this lemon tree seedling on in the hope that it may go on to produce fruit in the next couple of years. I know a man with a heated conservatory who owes me a favour or two, so if it does survive I’ll call on his good nature and see if, between us, we can’t get it through another winter and grow it on to maturity.

The cold frame’s been given something of a makeover. The B&M department, ever mindful of my advancing years, took it upon itself to fit a couple of hinges and a handle to the lid (TBH, it was a bit of a faff lifting it on and off) and cutting me two lengths of inch square timber, one so that I could fully prop it open to work and another to partially prop it open to allow heat to escape and air to flow. Even at this time of year, given that it lives under glass, it can get very warm in there, so the faffing is much reduced. A dozen healthy tomato plants and the first of the leeks are hardening off in there, with (hopefully) beans, peas, peppers and chilies soon to germinate. I am getting more impatient with age, as I’m often reminded, but I’ve come to understand that nature will always take its own course and no two years are the same in this game.

My first thought on realising how much damage had been visited upon us by Zack (not its real name) was in regard to the newly planted strawberries, which are located (as my loyal reader will recognise) where the worst of the damage was incurred. I needn’t have concerned myself, although we won’t have our usual 100 plants this year, the 90 or so we do have are looking as healthy as they’ve ever done and the newly planted ones seem to be doing best of all. Maya’s in for a treat this year.

Given that the news cycle rarely lasts more than a week these days I may be a little late in touching on this point, but I followed with growing interest and not a little consternation a large number of talking heads, client journalists and low ranking politicos’ as they decided to directly attack the “triple lock” and, by association, the validity of The State Pension as a right for those of us who contributed to it for a great many years and rely on it as sometimes our main and, quite often, only source of income. According to the aforementioned commentators, given the parlous state of the nations’ finances, not only should the “triple lock” be removed, but the pension itself should become means tested.  Some commentators went so far as to say that it should be classed as a benefit in the same way that housing benefit, PiP, job-seekers allowance, Universal Credit, Employment Support Allowance (other benefits are available) are and not as a right by dint of contributions made. The online”debate” soon became so fractious that it ended up (maybe as intended, because such manufactured outrage doesn’t happen in a vacuum) as an attack on the older generation for having the temerity to own their own homes, take the occasional holiday and, heaven forfend, own a car. It didn’t take long before some of these people, who should be better informed, were branding State Pensioners as selfish “Millionaire Boomer Parasites”, gleefully stealing the birthrights of the younger generation to fund hedonistic, champagne and caviar fuelled lifestyles cruising around the world, ensconced in luxury ocean liner staterooms.

Of course, as anyone of a certain age will know, it’s all bollox. There was an implied contract made with government at the commencement of my working life that my NI “stoppages” would contribute, in part, to the payment of a pension on my reaching the statutory (though not obligatory) retirement age. Far from being a benefit (although that’s how it’s now officially viewed) as those who stoked the fires (quite possibly as a result of a direct briefing from this risible government) would have gullible younger people believe, for tax purposes The State Pension is classed as earned income. Given that the personal allowance has been frozen at £12,570 since 2021 many people, particularly those like myself who joined SERPS in 1978 (State Earnings Related Pension Scheme) will be paying income tax on their state pensions and on any private pension entitlement they may have. To my mind, you can’t have it both ways. A single person on benefits, who may have never worked in his or her life, can receive up to £326 per week, tax free. A pensioner, who may well have paid into the system for around 50 years, will receive a maximum of £241 per week. If the same pensioner were to receive even a £30 per week top up due to extra SERPS contributions, then £6 of that would be liable to be paid as income tax.

Whatever happens to The State Pension in the future and I believe they’re coming for it, it’s another case of ordinary (dare I say “working class) folk, who try to mind their own business while they’re getting by and who’ve always done the right thing, more or less, being blamed by self serving apparatchiks for the failings and shortcomings of successive governments. Norway has a sovereign wealth fund and an average state pension of around 30,000 Euros. We (currently) have a Labour government that cares more for the well-being of illegal immigrants and (mostly) non-working families with multiple children (often from multiple “marriages”) than it does for honest citizens who’ve paid their way. The National Living Wage, for someone working a full time 35 hour week is just over £23,000 (taxable). The (single person) benefit cap outside of London is set at £17,000 (tax free). The average UK state pension is £13,000 (taxable) and is the “least generous” of all the G7 countries.
 

© Colin Cross 2026