Nothing like a parish council meeting to remind oneself how intolerant some people are and how some people must struggle to go about their daily lives before kicking off about something or other; angry people, usually older, usually right leaning and usually with a few quid in their pockets of which they will not be willing to share as to where it came from, apart from the “i worked bloody hard my whole life…” etc etc, thereby insinuating the people who don’t have what they have didn’t work hard in their lives. Some people just deserve it more…

So it turns out that theres another 65 houses to be built in our little Worcestershire village, which is, so we are warned by old people who were born here, merely the tip of the Iceberg: “When I was a child it was all fields and we used to fall asleep on haystacks and chew each others earlobes before fellating one another in the barn when the rains came and be back in time for supper, wet and randy” The threat of another building company and more development gives the localised anti growth committee insomnia as they grind their teeth to the gums and chew their nails to the quicks. It certainly promises to be a summer of Cumulo Grumbliness in many retiree’s kitchens whilst the Cumulo Nimbus clouds gather in the valley over the shadow of Development.  

We moved into the village in an estate which “should never have been built ” shrieked an increasingly vexed lady quivering as she addressed the Chairman, she was near to tears and by association the group of 6 of us, newish residents were meant to feel shame? Discomfort? Did she want us to burn our houses down and leave? Comments from another person “Mr Chairman” saying that new homes “Are ok I ‘d imagine if you’re homeless” The right was rising , the true colours rearing their heads and the planning application hasn’t even been put in yet; its only a proposal, but from the District councillor came the feeling that we’re all doomed and the developers have us by the short and curlies, and its nothing whatsoever to do with the last 14 years of mismanagement locally and nationally in housing policy and implementation. Someone somewhere or a group of someones somewheres has royally screwed up and so now small to medium housing estates are popping up everywhere in Malvern, Worcestershire and beyond the Shire.

“Mr Chairman” the plan to call up the proposers and shout down the telephone or send in SHOUTY CAPITAL LETTER EMAILS was met with a fair amount of agreement , some of the more thoughtful decided we should wait until the actual plans are submitted to the council and still a small number of Godly folk decided to appeal directly to the land owner; Lord Flimmeny Jibbit to appeal to his empathetic nature by refering back to the barns, buttered crumpets and hay stacks of the past. The Lord lives in the next valley, is very short of cash and doesn’t mix in the same circles as the lady with the ever increasing blood pressure, and so for that reason I would imagine he couldn’t give a fuck what Doreen from Clifton thinks about this proposal. In fact I imagine the 50+ year old children Lord Flimmeny Jibbet want to maintain their Mustique holiday home and once again have tapped up Daddy for funding.

I agree the volume of development could be alarming, but I’m a new Bug and have settled in nicely and spend an absolute fortune with 3 other newbies every Friday evening at the Lion, which can now afford to get the Baize and cushions replaced on the pool table, thats what development does for a village, it brings in money and less bigoted views, expands the gene pool which could have been described as stagnating around 15 years ago. I think the days of being able to contest the proposal and win the fight are disappearing over the ever retreating horizon, and the anger of the few will soon be replaced by the pitter patter of little feet and younger families, progress, wether we or they like it of not, is development and what we should be fighting for, assuming theres no stopping the juggernaught is more funding for infrastructure projects, boring stuff like roads, sewage systems, localised power production, books for schools, teachers for schools, a new scout hut  to replace the old one probably riddled with an undersign of deathly asbestos. I find it hard to empathise with the older guard who would like nothing better for houses to be built elsewhere, fact is they’ve got to be built somewhere, and why should the floodplains and extended suburbs be the answer any more than they already are? Worcester is exploding right now, and the housing estates of red brick peppered with ready grown trees fitted with  and stirring with the ever-present hum of air source heat pumps are migrating across the plains like gathering Wildebeest, filling the air with the beep of reversing construction traffic and the dreams of families owning their own castles.

“Mr Chairman”

I think we probably have to suck it up and persuade the developers to invest in the village and short of emptying a jumbo sized Amazon Jiffy bag of Mixed Newts, Grass snakes and Slowworms on to the field under the cover of darkness, to appease the Nature Protection Branch of the District Council and persuade them to refuse the proposal then I don’t think there’s much else we can do. And in 5 years time we’ll have forgotten all about it, the angry folk will have shortened their life expectancy by 10 years and the people living in the village who can no longer climb the stairs will be living in bungalows on the new development, looking over another tranquil field.

“Thank you Mr Chairman”