‘Jeremy’s Juice’ is soon on the shelves of his farm shop before he reveals his next grand plan, Piggly Squat Pork... suffice it to say, Peppa and her gang won’t have recurring roles

FARMERS — they’re a divisive bunch, aren’t they? You either love them or would gladly go over them with a combine harvester.

To many, they are a vital part of society bringing us all manner of yumminess and the vegetables that surround it.

To others, they’re those people that fill up our roads with slow-moving vehicles and fill up our noses with many pungent aromas.

You can’t really sit on the fence — they won’t allow you to — but there’s no doubt that whatever way you’re leaning, TV companies can’t get enough of them.

And I’m not talking Emmerdale ,or Emmerdale Farm to us hardcore fans, where milking could be interrupted by bits of a 747 landing on the top pasture or someone getting their head blown off in the local shop.

I realise this ages me somewhat, but this exposure to farming clearly stays with you, I mean look at Andy Sugden, a man who despite murders, infidelity, depression and bad hair moved on to buy a farm in real life.

Fletchers’ Farm has been an unlikely hit and being a winner of Strictly I suppose his options were limited to professional dancing or farming — that old battle between sequins and slurry.

He’s not the only one. Helen Skelton is the face of Channel Five’s On The Farm franchise, while Anita Rani is one of the regular presenters on Countryfile, both having ploughed a furrow on the dancefloor.

Channel Five loves farming, Our Yorkshire Farm was another unlikely hit but as yet they haven’t continued their Jane Mcdonald fixation with her trapped in the gears of a threshing machine while singing a Beyoncé compilation.

Matt Baker, another of Countryfile extraction, despite his surname loves a small holding. Stop sniggering at the back.

He is currently on Channel 4 on a Saturday evening putting hopeful tenants through their paces on Our Dream Farm with Matt Baker, just in case you’d forgotten he was presenting it.

Having thrown off the twee shackles of The One Show ,abit like Andy Sugden, he has fled into the country with many shows, usually close to his home in Northumbria.

It is not far from Newcastle, imagine Ant and Dec in wellies with a whiff of dung and you’re there.

The National Trust estate of Wallington is looking for a new tenant for a 340 acre farm with a four-bedroom house thrown in for good measure.

“For one of our applicants, this is going to be a dream come true and the farm of a lifetime,” he tells us at the start but, now five episodes in, dreams are being shattered and potential farming lives ruined as we cut the wheat from the chaff. See, I’m a natural.

All the remaining applicants are sharing the farmhouse, a bit like Love Island but this is more Massey Ferguson than Issey Miyake.

And it’s all very nice, we go to an auction to talk bullocks (that’s wee boy bovines), fix hedgerows and it while it lacks the grittiness of something like The Responder you will sleep more soundly of an evening — although that may be the fresh air.

The problem is that the applicants are all good and have a fair knowledge of farming, but once they are whittled down they end up with diddly squat.

And that brings me neatly onto the return of Clarkson’s Farm.

This is the third instalment of one of Amazon Prime’s most popular and surprising hits.

Let’s face it, Jeremy Clarkson wouldn’t be allowed out of the Land Rover by Matt Baker and you do have to take all the financial woes on Diddly Squat Farm with a pinch of salt, given the owner is a multi-millionaire.

No matter, it is still a joy to have him and his assorted army of sidekicks back where Clarkson tells us ‘everything that could go wrong has gone wrong’ as we begin an episode entitled ‘Unfarming.’

This does not bode well for a farming programme, but near drought means the only thing growing out of control is Clarkson’s temper.

The local council has also ordered the closure of his restaurant and when his beloved bovines have to be taken away, he shows the sort of emotion he normally displays when denied a steak.

It is a strange thing with farmers I can’t really get my head around, they clearly are very fond of their animals but are happy then to send them off to the slaughterhouse. In fairness, I have people of whom I could say the same.

Back with him is Kaleb Cooper, the real star of the show, and as Clarkson is now concentrating on ‘unfarming’ he makes his assistant the farm manager.

His first decision is to fire Clarkson — imagine a BBC executive but in a bodywarmer — but then in Top Gear fashion, we have a competition — which one of them can make the most money in a year from their side of the business.

A walk through his fields gives him inspiration, to pick blackberries and after destroying a wall with a borrowed and newly-dented harvester, he goes to plan B using a Henry vacuum cleaner.

This idea doesn’t suck, well it does, but resident spoilsport, Charlie, is back to rain on his planned jamboree, with all manner of red tape needing tied around the jars.

But despite all this ‘Jeremy’s Juice’ is soon on the shelves of his farm shop before he reveals his next grand plan — Piggly Squat Pork.

I won’t ruin what happens next, suffice to say that Peppa and her pals are not destined for a starring role in later series of the show.

But, who knows, Channel Five may come calling, Pig Farming with Jane Mcdonald, I can see it now.

Jeremy Clarkson wouldn’t be allowed out of the Land Rover by Matt Baker