Daisy Wood: Conundrum of a farmer Christmas wishlist

What do you buy a farmer for Christmas?

It is a question that baffles me, and I think many partners, children and well-meaning relatives at this time of year.

The shops are full of novelty mugs, fluffy socks and sometimes a “World’s Best Farmer” T-shirt, but none of it feels quite right.

See also: Daisy Wood – farming is ‘a mystery in plastic’ to most people 

About the author

Daisy Wood

Daisy Wood grew up in a farming family in Gloucestershire and studied an Environmental Science degree at the University of Exeter. After a spell with Leaf (Linking Environment and Farming), she now works as a knowledge transfer manager for Waitrose and the University of Reading. Her work focuses on applying scientific knowledge in regenerative agriculture.

Read more articles by Daisy Wood

After all, what we really want can’t be wrapped – a lambing season without chaos, and a crop that doesn’t drown or break the bank.

If we’re talking practical gifts, after years of hard graft, maybe a manicure would make a fitting surprise – a rare bit of pampering for hands that usually handle gates, not nail files.

Maybe a massage voucher, for shoulders that haven’t relaxed since harvest ended. 

Or the most welcome present might be the age-old bottle of whisky – simple, restorative, and best enjoyed once the cattle are fed and the day finally quietens.

But behind the humour, there is a truth worth unwrapping.

On Christmas Day, while many are tucking into turkey and trimmings, there are still gates to check, cows to milk, water troughs to unfreeze.

The rhythm of the farm doesn’t pause for the festive season.

So what do farmers really need?

Maybe not another gadget or pair of gloves, but an hour. Just one quiet hour to sit without guilt, without a to-do list running through their head, without thinking about weather forecasts or input prices or next season’s margins.

If I could write a Christmas list for farmers, it would include a few impossible items: a politician who understands rural life, a market that pays fairly, a back that doesn’t ache, and a forecast that’s predictable.

But none of those fit under the tree.

Perhaps the next best thing is time and a bit of appreciation for the people who keep working while the rest of the world stops.

So, this Christmas pour a dram, take a breath, and if you’re lucky enough to have a quiet hour, savour it. You’ve earned it.