By Josiah Teed, Agrarian Correspondent-at-Large
After a tense fortnight of infestation and intrigue, the Ministry of Agriculture & Garden Ethics has issued a triumphant statement declaring the Weevil Rebellion of Fallowmere Fields officially subdued.
The infestation—initially dismissed as “a mild unpleasantness” by junior under-minister Tilbury Straw—had escalated quickly, with entire rows of heritage barley laid to waste in a matter of days. Reports emerged from farmers in the southern quadrant of the kingdom describing “a wriggling tide,” “audible chewing,” and “tiny banners of insubordination” among the weevils themselves. At least one farmer claimed the pests had begun organizing in spirals, “as if by dark purpose or instinctive choreography.”
The Ministry responded with characteristic restraint and, later, decisive action.
Phase I of the counter-offensive involved traditional techniques: peppermint oil, garlic sprays, firm but respectful letters of expulsion pinned to fence posts. When these failed to make an impression, the Ministry escalated to Phase II: The Summoning of the Moles. These subterranean allies were deployed by licensed burrow wranglers, each bearing a writ of soil-entry signed by the Royal Gardener.
Phase III, the turning point, involved the deployment of the Bell Brigade—a small but disciplined force of elderly parishioners tasked with ringing handbells at hourly intervals to disrupt weevil morale. “They do hate a good clamor,” said Commander Myra Tugg, age 83, who directed operations from atop a haystack with admirable clarity of voice and a thermos of nettle tea.
By week’s end, the fields had been largely reclaimed. The weevils, exhausted and demoralized, retreated toward the hedgerows. One was reportedly seen boarding a leaf and drifting downstream. As a gesture of magnanimity, the Ministry offered safe passage to any remaining pests willing to “renounce agricultural interference and live quietly among the nettles.”
In a press conference held in the carrot shed of the Ministry’s annex in Turnip End, Minister of Agriculture and Garden Ethics, Dame Wilhelmina Peagrace, praised the courage of Eyehasseen’s farmers and the “resolute coordination of man, mole, and bell.” She also confirmed the reinstatement of the annual Crop Peace Ceremony, which will be held on the Thirdday of Late Gleaning, featuring traditional music, root vegetable blessings, and the solemn burial of the offending scarecrow.
The Ministry further announced the formation of a new Watchers’ Circle for Sub-Soil Mischief, a volunteer corps trained to spot early signs of pest sedition, fungal insurgence, and carrot sabotage. Applications are now open to those with strong knees, clear eyesight, and a healthy skepticism of insects wearing monocles (a precaution based on recent sketchings submitted by schoolchildren in the affected areas).
Local response to the Ministry’s swift and quirky measures has been largely positive. Farmer Ewan Sprock, whose entire oat crop was spared by what he calls “the Moleshift Maneuver,” told The Times-Observer: “We may laugh at them behind their clipboards, but when the dirt hits the roots, they do show up.”
Critics of the Ministry, including the outspoken Root Realist League, argue that the entire affair could have been prevented with stricter winter composting laws and routine soil eavesdropping. “If we’d listened to the potatoes, none of this would have happened,” said League leader Hortense Grimble, before being escorted from the field by a moderately polite turnip marshal.
In any case, the incident has highlighted both the resilience of the realm’s farmers and the Ministry’s unique approach to pest diplomacy. A white paper is expected next month, summarizing best practices, mole morale, and optimal bell-handling posture.
For now, the fields of Fallowmere are green again. Children return to playing among the bean poles. The bells have fallen silent. And the Ministry—never one to rest on its laurels (which are prone to aphids)—has resumed its routine duties: auditing trellis integrity, overseeing the code of tomato honour, and ensuring that all scarecrows have “a sufficiently unfriendly posture.”