THE suggestions that all farmers are to be issued with computers with a direct link to the Department for the Extermination of Farming and Rural Affairs, has caused shock waves through our local farming fraternity.

Computers? E-mail? I foresee uprisings and revolt akin to the unrest of the agricultural revolution. Devils spawn etc. Not exactly setting fire to spinning jennies but mass accidental spilling of coffee cups across mother boards or mistaken insertion of a set of discs rather than a floppy disc into a vital part of the computer's drive. It is not that John could not work out how to use a computer; it is just that he does not want to and the alternative, that is letting me do all the bookwork/computer work, is just too awful for him to contemplate. He knows I am capable. I have been using a computer on a daily basis for the last ten years. But it would mean that John would lose some control of the farm on a day-to-day basis, and I would lose some of my day-to-day freedom from the farm.

Until the arrival of the control computer in our midst, however, DEFRA is starting to distance itself from dealing face to face with farmers in a new way. John wants to get his beef subsidy forms into the ministry before the end of the year. With the rapid approach of Christmas and New Year, it makes sense to take the forms in this week. He prefers to go personally to the DEFRA offices and have the forms checked and received officially. That way there is no argument that they have not arrived in the post, etc, and there is no delay with the forms being returned because he has put the wrong figure in the wrong box.

But we can't do that anymore. DEFRA will not allow any dirty old farmers into their building. Despite there having been no new outbreak of foot and mouth for nearly two months, they are restricting visitors to their offices and all forms have to be left outside in a box. Makes farmers feel rather like plague victims. I would not be surprised to see vinegar and a bunch of herbs beside the box. We did try sending forms by registered post, but it cost a fortune, and they still had to be returned and then sent back again because of mistakes. At least, however, it assured us that they had been received, because the forms had to be signed for. Leaving them in a box gives no guarantees. So this morning, before setting off, John rang to see if they could check the forms whilst he sat in the car park, and then he could ring them to see if any corrections were necessary. He could go through the same plague avoidance procedure, get them back, correct any mistakes and rebox the forms. "Do you think we have nothing better to do than to run back and forth to the post box all day," he was told. Sharply. "We only collect the post once a day, and there is no guarantee when we can check all the forms." So helpful. So pleasant. The Elliot Morley Charm School in action.

Updated: 12:13 Thursday, December 20, 2001