The television news tells me that in Bristol, they are
starting to build houses out of straw.
Real, actual houses. Out of real,
actual straw. All this time I have been
emptying straw out of my pockets, and the CIPA Pixies have been sweeping it
away after me, and really actually we could have been making our fortunes by
selling it to the construction industry.
Or indeed by selling me to the construction industry.
I remain unconvinced about a house made out of the bits that
fall off the back of a combine harvester, but I am told that straw houses are comfortable
and warm and really actually quite robust.
In a farmyard kind of way. The
camera zooms in on a “feature window” which allows the people inside the straw
hut a unique opportunity to watch their insect and rodent cohabitants. That’s cosy alright.
The BBC call in a straw house expert, who is the closest I
have seen to a real actual straw man. He
has clearly not had any media training recently but he has a plucky attempt at
selling the idea of a mortgaged hamster cage.
“Do you think these houses will take off?” asks the BBC journalist. LOL. Presumably
only if the Big Bad Wolf comes huffing and puffing around. And in Brizzle this is not a risk because
although we have wild boar wandering our streets and wurzels in our pubs, we do
not yet have wolves.
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