Meet our fictional therapist Farmer Frank. He’s not qualified, not experienced and, according to some, not all there. But every month he dispenses no-nonsense (OK, not entirely nonsense) rural remedies on matters of health, of the heart and of hard cash

Q I found a £20 note on the village green last Tuesday. Am I required by law to hand it in to the police?
A A £20 note? I lost one of those last Monday. Send it to me.

Q My husband always comes back tipsy when he’s been to the local farmers’ discussion group – is this normal?
A No, I’d say drunk was more normal than tipsy.

Q Everyone calls me Dumbo because of my ears. OK, they might stick out slightly, but they’re not particularly big. Surely this is unfair?
A Yes, it sounds as if “Jug Ears” or “The FA Cup” might be fairer.

Q I work with someone who has terrible B.O. Some people say it’s best to drop subtle hints, others advocate a more direct approach. Which would you recommend?
A I’d recommend a combination of the two. Send them a can of deodorant. If that doesn’t cure it, tell them they stink like a slurry spreader.

Q My husband has been learning French with an elderly French lady in our village. He’s recently quit those lessons, in favour of a 6ft, blonde, 19-year- old French au pair. He tells me she’s better at the language.
A Pull the other one. Or, actually, it sounds like that’s exactly what he has done!

Q What is an average sex life?
A Don’t ask me, my missus left me years ago.

Q I am prone to procrastination. There isn’t an area of my life it isn’t affecting. What should I do?
A: I’ll get back to you on that one.

Q I got bitten by a dog last spring and the same dog bit me last summer. It also bit me in the back-end. What should I do?
A The back-end is a bad place to get bitten. I should know, I once got nipped there by an Airedale.

Q My boyfriend is very rude. Is this normal?
A Don’t be so ridiculous! Of course it’s normal – stop wasting my time.

Q Everyone in the village is talking about me. Rumours are terrible things. How can I stop it?
A Never mind that, you’ll never guess who the landlady of my local is supposed to be seeing – only the postman!

Ever wanted to talk to an agony uncle? If so, send your question to Farmer Frank …