WHEN I told you a couple of months ago that Maitland Mackie, my first cousin removed several times up the food chain, had taken a bet of £5000 that the price of oil would exceed $200 a barrel in two years, some people said he was mad and others said he had more money than sense.

Both conclusions may be true, of course, but his forecast is not looking so daft now, is it? In fact, I see on my telly that even the experts are predicting $200 a barrel, and Maitland could win his bet in a lot less than two years.

According to the energy strategist of Goldman Sachs, the $200 barrel may be with us any time in the next six months. Argus Murti says that with burgeoning demand from India and China and continuing supply problems in the Gulf of Mexico and West Africa, not to mention the doubts about supplies from Saudi and Grangemouth, the oil price may shoot up at any time.

And really, when you look at the recent history of oil prices Maitland wasn't sticking his neck very far out at all. In the last seven years, the crude price has risen by 400%. When he took on the bet he was only asking for further 120% rise in two years.

So, what does $200 a barrel really mean to us as individual farmers and drivers? Well, as regards the motorist the translation from dollars-to-the-barrel to pence-per-litre at the pumps is pretty easy. The current prices are $120 per barrel and at the pumps it's about 120p per litre.

So, when Maitland collects his £5000 it will cost him about £2 per litre to go and deliver it to his chosen charity, the University of Aberdeen's library appeal.

Diesel at £2 a litre will have a profound effect on the Farmer. He loves to chug round the countryside - looking at this field and at that field, never looking at the road, but concentrating on finding fault with everything his neighbours are doing.

Well, the Breadwinner won't stand for that. At £2 per litre it will have to be Shanks's pony or the bike.

And she has worked it out that it takes a litre of diesel for me to drive to the village and back. So it's £2 to go down to the shop for the paper, £2 to go back because I forgot to get the carton of milk she asked me to bring up. Then it'll be another £2 to go down to see how the cricket match is going and another £2 to go for a pint at the Salmon Inn.

When Maitland ran his gloomy predictions past me before Christmas I said I didn't think it would happen. It wasn't that I thought he was wrong about how quickly the demand for oil was rising in Asia. I thought that prices shooting up would affect how we behave. At £9 a gallon we would use a lot less.

At £9 a gallon the exploration companies will be looking a lot harder and alternative energy investment will get a huge boost. I'll be tempted to put up a bigger windmill.

Now I want to tell you another of the stories knocked back by the publishers of the book I've been writing about the farm. I didn't mind much as the hero, Maitland Mackie's great-great-grandfather who never bought a litre of diesel in his life, never farmed at Little Ardo.

John Mackie had been in Troup's, the general merchants in Rhynie, and apparently as an afterthought he said to the grocer: "Here's a pound Mr Troup, send some groceries up to old Mrs Macdonald."

She had been recently widowed and Christmas was coming. That was done, a nice gesture surely. But a week later John Mackie received an irate letter from Mrs Macdonald's brother, a very important solicitor in Aberdeen. Mr Mackie was not to meddle in his family affairs and they were in no need of his charity. He was returning the pound.

The devil prompting no doubt, my great great-grandfather took the pound down to the shop. "Oh Mr Troup, Mrs Macdonald was very pleased with the groceries you put round to her. Would you just send her the same again with my regards."

Troup didn't know what to think but did as he was bidden. Business was business after all.

An even angrier letter arrived from the solicitor's office in Aberdeen. Legal action was threatened if John Mackie, Milton of Noth Farm, Rhynie, did not desist from showering his sister, who had been left quite comfortably off, with unsolicited groceries. Again the pound was returned.

Like a dog with a bone, John Mackie was not easily shaken off. He hurried down to Troup's and bade the grocer send yet another pound's worth of groceries to the widow.

"Oh Mr Mackie," said Mr Troup, "I don't think you need to do that. I think Mrs Macdonald was left quite well off."

"Well, I dare say," said John Mackie. "But she was very pleased with the deliveries and, when all's said and done, they're not costing me much."