Hidden Crimes...

...We, mercifully, are not much touched by crime around here. It might be that we have little enough to steal, or that being so essentially isolated few outsiders would think to come our way with bad intent. Those living here, even if tempted to raid or rob, would resist knowing they would be found out all too easily as, really, everyone does tend to know everything about everyone.

There is still poaching, though that tends to be thought of - except of course by the Colonel or other landowner facing depredation of their birds - as a form of 'poor relief.' Similarly the odd job done by someone 'on the sick' passes without question or answer.

Assault against the person is normally confined to the rugby field, though sad enough to say domestic violence is not. The tense and difficult lives of farmers can and does lead to fractious stress and wives who are hurt. H is a great help in such situations, acting the role of peacemaker or else involving the police as the situation seems to require. (Ours has been a 'safehouse' from time to time, a refuge and a sanctuary.)

Yobbery, with or without violence, plagues us less than perhaps it might. Sound local parenting would seem to have ensured that no youth thinks he - generally - can be rude, cantankerous, obnoxious or dangerous without being held to account within his own household.

Thus we tend to jog along - sinners all of course, just little actual sinning that is also illegal.

But in the wider world there are certainly greater terrors to behold and to ponder. Tonight two 'hidden' crimes have come to my attention. The first involved a two and half year old toddler. So young to be a criminal you cry! Well fear not. The boy himself has committed no offence. His grandfather had, it seems, taken him into a shop in one of our more troubled metropolises wearing, as it was a cold day, a hooded coat.

The shop owner - oft beset by the very yobbery we escape, and clearly robbed of any sense or perspective - demanded of the grandparent that the toddler's hood must come down as he had a 'no hoods' policy from which there could be no deviation or exemption. Grandfather reasonably told the man he was a complete twit and left the shop rather than comply.

And down London way comes a equally ridiculous tale - though one with, so far, a far happier conclusion. A District Judge has ruled that the police's removal of Brian Haw's posters - which they claimed provided the perfect hiding place for terrorist bombs - was illicit in intent, unlawfully enacted, oh and also plain bonkers in reasoning.

Mr Haw has my enduring regard for his near six years now vigil outside Parliament protesting about the war in Iraq, first trying to stop it happening and then continuing to denounce its continuation. I have to say the odd tenner from the Palladas coffers has gone his way on the few occasions I have passed that way over the years, just to show solidarity by refreshing the supply chain as it were. Can't see the crime in that.