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So, that went well …
The spring barley crop failed. Just like the oil seed rape. And the durum wheat. Then the oats turned the colour of a hearing aid and the mushrooms went mouldy. Farming sheep, pigs and cows was hardly more lucrative. Jeremy would be better off trying to breed ostriches.
But in the face of uncooperative weather, the relentless realities of the agricultural economy, bureaucracy, a truculent local planning department and the world’s persistent refusal to recognise his ingenuity and genius, our hero’s not beaten yet. Not while the farm shop’s still doing a roaring trade in candles that smell like his knacker hammock, he isn’t.
On the face of it, the challenges of making a success of Diddly Squat are enough to have you weeping into your (Hawkstone) beer, but misery loves company and in girlfriend Lisa, Farm Manager Kaleb, Cheerful Charlie and Gerald his Head of Security Jeremy knows he’s got the best. And it’s hard for a chap to feel too gloomy about things when there’s a JCB telehandler, a crop-spraying hovercraft and a digger in the barn.
Because as a wise man* once said, ‘there’s no man alive who wouldn’t have fun with a digger …’
*Jeremy<>
About the author
Jeremy Clarkson began his writing career on the Rotherham Advertiser. Since then he has written for the Sun, the Sunday Times, the Rochdale Observer, the Wolverhampton Express & Star, all of the Associated Kent Newspapers and Lincolnshire Life. He was, for many years, the tallest person on television. He now lives on Diddly Squat Farm in Oxfordshire where he is learning to become a farmer.
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Praise for Clarkson's Farm -
