A month in Ambridge

I have a cunning plan to retrieve the BBC's finances. Or at least those of Ambridge, which is in dire need of a couple of new coconuts ("Whoa Midnight!") and some fresh storylines.

The Ambridge Christmas Hamper! I see you are stunned by the brilliant simplicity of it. This will be filled with festive fayre grown by the cast. David's Hassett Hill lamb, Pat's organic yoghurts, Oliver's Sterling Gold cheese and, of course, Tom's Premium Borsetshire Bangers With Blueberries. Traditionally there will also be some items no one really fancies. Nigel's Chateau Pargetter, Freda's pigs in blankets and Auntie Chris's canapes, doubtfully described as a sort of sausage-meat savoury. Eddie's turkey was declined as it seemed, in the view of the hamper committee, on the sickly side. Turkeys, they suggested, should wait to be killed, not drop dead at your feet.

To top it off there will be an ode from Bert Fry, the McGonagall of Ambridge.

God rest ye merry gentlemen! Enjoy ye celebration! The squire wants to make it plain: Lord Archer's no relation.

There were more verses, rhyming "pudding" with "cudding", but these were considered too dialect-rich for townies. Apparently, cudding is what cows do when they are loafing around thinking. The Archers is educational like that.

This month's big thing has been the preparations for Phil and Jill's golden wedding anniversary. Join the party tonight. Bert has written a poem for the occasion but, somehow, won't get a chance to read it. Perhaps the lines about Phil's first wife ("Phil said, 'Oh dear, my wife has gone, I'll have to get another one'") struck the wrong note. Grace Archer burned to death 52 years ago, stealing the thunder of ITV, which was going on air that night. Self-sacrificial heroism seems expected in a farmer's wife. Consider David's shout this week as his cows stampeded: "Ruth, quick! Stop the herd!" Oh noa!