It’s all my ovaries’ fault.
There I was enjoying life as a broadcast journalist and London party girl, when WHAM! I met Oli. In a bar.
On our first date he told me his ultimate dream was to be a farmer. I laughed.
But something about this gorgeous, ruddy-faced boy stopped me from trying quickly and politely to get the bill and make a swift exit. Soon afterwards I fell head over heels. We both rashly quit our jobs in the City to pursue a life in the Hampshire countryside… And make lots of babies.
Fast forward to today. We’ve started an oak framed construction company; weathered Oli developing a frightening heart condition; had three beautiful, sunny, amazing children; together endured the devastating stillbirth of our second daughter; and we’ve bought a derelict farm in the most magical spot.
This is the story of how we set about restoring Rowan Farm and learning the ropes of how to grow and rear our own food.
My 25 year old self just wouldn’t believe where I have ended up ten years on. It’s been one hell of a ride. And it’s about to get even more exciting…