I’ve never much liked Rosie Boycott. Not that I’ve ever met the woman, but her telly and radio persona has always struck me as strident, albeit that she often speaks in a good cause. The first 50 or so pages of this book, about the trials and tribulations of establishing a Somerset smallholding, did little to make me change my mind. Books about townies moving to the country are seldom as revelatory as their authors would wish us believe. This one looked as if it would be no exception: there was the usual lecture about the wickedness of supermarkets and their ill-effects on market towns, and the tone of the first few chapters was annoying: ‘You see, chance comes in many forms, and sometimes one gets one’s chances from another’s misfortunes.’ When I saw that Chapter 4 was headed ‘Trees are Excellent Listeners’, my heart sank.

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