Do you even live there in the winter? is what I get asked most often. People are kindly alarmed about how cold we must be. But the colder it is outside the fiercer the stove draws. In sub zero temperatures we come home to frozen solid water containers, but it’s just minutes before the fire is roaring and within an hour we’re in tee shirts with the windows open.

Our first winter was in 2010. I’d bought some strings of onions from the Breton ‘Johnny’ on the street. Those onions spent all winter freezing solid in the day then defrosting, dripping and warming by night. We ate most of them, but some just got too leaky.

Our stove is called a Twiglet. It’s made out of pressed steel by a man called Kevan who lives up north. There are lots of his stoves in this part of Wales. Chloe recommended them to me, he made hers to a specific size and spent a long time getting the baffle just right. Lucy’s got one in her truck with a water heater attached to the stove pipe. When she and Roland got stuck for two days in deep snow crossing the Pyrenees, they lit the Twiglet and made fresh coffee for all the other stranded people on the road.