I’m at that curmudgeonly age of my early 60s. By way of illustration as to why this is a difficult age, the other day a fresh-faced barber, on completing my haircut, asked if I wanted the very worthwhile, discounted OAP rate. I simply gave him an icy, blank stare and slammed the full £15 down on the counter, as was my right as someone who was clearly well under the pensionable age.
To make matters worse, more recently I suffered the indignity of being offered a seat on the Circle Line in London by some well-meaning, but clearly not very observant, young chap. He, too, was also given the icy, blank stare for his trouble.
See also: Paying tribute to one of farming’s greatest leaders
Yes, I’m at that time of life when spontaneous acts of generosity are frequently reciprocated with grumpy displays of ingratitude.
Another challenge of getting into one’s seventh decade is losing elders and mentors who, for as long as could be remembered, had always been there – like points of light in the night sky.
One such for me was Lord Henry Plumb, who I knew for many years. Henry reciprocated my reverence for him with great kindness. I remember enjoying a chat with him in the House of Lords tearooms when a rather frail Baroness Thatcher was brought in in a wheelchair. “I’m afraid old age is catching up with Margaret, otherwise I’d introduce you,” discreetly explained the sprightly Lord Plumb. The fact that she was actually younger than him was not lost on me.
Since his death in April plenty has been said about Henry’s great contribution to agriculture. Suffice for me to add that his passing is a huge loss to the industry. But we should give thanks that we had him for as long as we did, in such good health.
Another long-standing figure of stability, and mercifully still very much with us, is Her Majesty the Queen. I’ll confess I’m no ardent monarchist, but I feel lucky to have lived all my life to date during the reign of Elizabeth II.
She is the living embodiment of strong, effective leadership. Her great virtue is how she undertakes that leadership with modest ambition and feeling no compulsion to share her views.
What is more, the Queen is a farmer with several famous farming estates. I’m sure she probably has opinions on farming, such as her favourite breed of sheep or preferred make of tractor, but I like the fact that she keeps them to herself. We don’t even know if she’s happy or unhappy with the weather, which must make her almost unique in farming circles.
Dignified, strong reserve is an increasingly rare characteristic, and maybe it needs to come back into fashion. In an age where we are bombarded with everyone’s endless opinion on everything, the Queen demonstrates that respect is gained through a quiet and diligent adherence to duty.
To have done so for 70 years is a truly remarkable achievement worthy of our celebration.
