This week the Prime Minister has been told in no uncertain terms, and unanimously by the people of Cumbria, that those responsible must be held accountable.

Top of all Cumbrian's list is of course Blair himself. Further, if they were to handle another outbreak in the same way as the last one, Cumbrians will take to the streets and fells and fight them.

Cumbria's reasons are many & varied. I have copied the diary of a Cumbrian farmer.

This was just one day in the life of one Cumbrian in the 9 months that MAFF have wreaked their own special brand of bullying & chaos to this most beautiful part England.

Mr Blair, you have been warned.

Heart of Cumbria
"Campaigning for the Truth."


At the farm, just outside of the kitchen window we have a bird table that is frequented by red squirrels which feed on the nuts that we leave out for them. I took a picture of them yesterday, they provide a much welcomed diversion from the chaos that surrounds us.

At the moment the view across the valley is obscured by raincloud, and indeed the farm is not exempt from their cargo. Thankfully it conceals the smoke from all of the pyres in the valley that I witnessed yesterday. The weather here changes so quickly, even as I'm typing this I can see the cloud lifting a little, it may clear up sufficient to see across to the other side of the valley before the day is out.

A friend who lives near Carlisle rang me last night to tell me that one of the lorries transporting dead animals had overturned at Durdar near his house. He said that there was an awful mess of gore leaking out of the vehicle all over the road. An RSPCA officer was at the scene and discovered to his horror that some of the slaughtered animals were still alive, and that the slaughterman's bolt hadn't been effective enough to kill them. The pressures on the slaughtermen must be immense, there are still far too many animals awaiting slaughter and far too many animals awaiting disposal. This culling policy has turned into a farce.

On local radio last night a lady rang in to say that on the road where she walks her dog she saw a pile of dead sheep in an adjacent field for nine days, towards the latter end of this period cattle were moved into the same field and she told of a calf grazing next to the pile of rotting sheep carcasses, she began to cry and then told of the cattle being slaughtered and left there. Another farmer told me this morning that on the Penrith to Wigton road 'almost every other field had a pile of dead sheep in the corner' when he came along it yesterday. Yes Tony Blair, the countryside is open to tourists, let them come, let them see, let them see for themselves the horror that we endure.

When I made my daily rounds of the farm yesterday afternoon, I noticed that the pyre on my neighbours farm burns still. Its now heading for its fourth week.

People tell me that you cannot escape the smell of the pyres in Penrith, and Carlisle is worse. My mother went shopping in Penrith yesterday and told of how empty the town was, what few people were there all had grey faces and talked in whispers. Usually my mother finds Penrith to be bursting with life, farmers wives bustling about from shop to shop while their husbands are at the auctions. 'Nowhere can you get parked' is her stock complaint after her shopping forays, but yesterday she said 'I could park just anywhere, there's absolutely nobody about'.