Welcome back to Clarkson's Farm.
At the end of Jeremy's first year in the tractor's driving seat, Diddly Squat farm rewarded him with a profit of just £144. So, while he's the first to admit that he's still only a 'trainee farmer'*, there is clearly still work to be done.
Because while he's mastered the art of moaning about nearly everything, some of the other attributes required of a successful farmer prove more of a challenge. Who knew, for instance, that loading a grain trailer was more demanding than flying an Apache gunship? That cows were more dangerous than motor-racing? Or that it would have been easier to get planning permission build a nuclear power station than to turn an old barn into a farm restaurant?
But if the council planning department and the local red trouser brigade seem determine to frustrate his schemes at every turn, at least he's got Lisa, Kaleb, Cheerful Charlie and Gerald, his dry-stone-walling Head of Security to see him through. And cold beer brewed with spring barley harvested from Diddly Squat's own fields ...
Life on Clarkson's Farm may not always go according to plan. There may not always be one. But there's not a day goes by when Jeremy can't say 'I've done a thing' and mean it ...
* generous, in Kaleb's view

Another year on the Diddly Squat Farm and Jeremy is still knee-deep in mud and endless challenges.
Welcome back to Clarkson's Farm. Since taking the wheel three years ago Jeremy's had his work cut out. And it's now clear from hard-won experience that, when it comes to farming, there's only one golden rule:
Whatever you hope will happen, won't.
Enthusiastic schemes to diversify have met with stubborn opposition from the red trouser brigade, defeat at the hands of Council Planning department, and predictable derision from Kaleb - although, to be fair, even Lisa had doubts about Jeremy's brilliant plan to build a business empire founded on rewilding and nettle soup. And only Cheerful Charlie is still smiling about the stifling amount of red tape that's incoming . . . But he charges by the hour.
Then there are the animals: the sheep are gone; the cows have been joined by a rented bull called Break-Heart Maestro;. the pigs are making piglets; and the goats have turned out to be psychopaths.
But despite the naysayers and (sometimes self-inflicted) setbacks, Jeremy remains irrepressibly optimistic about life at Diddly Squat. Because It's hard not to be when you get to harvest blackberries with a vacuum cleaner.
And, after all, it shouldn't just be Break-heart Maestro who gets to enjoy a happy ending . . .