TALES FROM THE HILLS

(Ashmansworth and Crux Easton)

It was quite a sight when they laid the gas main, half a century ago. The earthmovers cut a broad swathe right across Crux Easton, erasing every hedge, every tree, and every blade of grass in their path. There followed an excavator, digging a massive trench, and a procession of lorries, bringing the equally massive pipe in sections. Another machine, completely covered against the weather, crawled along the swathe like a giant tortoise, welding the sections together. The swathe was back-filled and re-sown. The hedges were re-planted with quickset, between pairs of parallel post-and-rail fences. Peace descended.  Now you’d never know it was there.

A house with central heating would be very comforting in this bleak midwinter, especially if it ran on cheap mains gas, so it is rather disappointing that hundreds of tons of the stuff have flowed under our feet every day for decades, only to heat other people’s houses and never ours. We’ve shivered in unflattering woollies all winter, while Newbury and Andover have basked in T-shirts.

For some people it’s even more galling than that: they claim they can actually hear the gas rushing underneath on its way from Newbury to Andover. Perhaps they can. The pipe is very big, at thirty-six inches across; the gas travels at forty miles an hour .. and the countryside can be very quiet.

But we shouldn’t complain.

It wasn’t just us. It seems that no-one else in the benefice ever had cheap gas; and, although we didn’t have much choice in the matter, at least we weren’t guilty of squandering a precious resource. Now the cheap gas supplies have run out anyway, and it’s compulsory electricity for everyone.

There’s always the thought that up here we won’t miss cheap heating, because we’ve never had it. With our long experience of cool houses, we know just how cold an ‘all-electric’ future is going to be! Like wise virgins, we’ve kept our woollies.

In hindsight we should have kept the pub: we could now be sharing some of its warmth together on cold winter nights.

Agricola, December 2022