I listen to the Archers. Not always; twice a week is usually enough to keep up, as the storyline isn't exactly fast-moving . I'm not the only Archering MNW, either, as I recently discovered, together with Alis's revelation that they use a one-moo-fits-all cow noise for anything from bovine birth to death.
My year is puntuated with the regular activities of the Archers; lambing in January (awfully early - they lamb much later round here), with much shivering and complaining in the lambing sheds, through summer and the single wicket contest (I've no idea what that means, but that's what the Archers do in the summer) to, finally, the infuriating Linda Snell's annual Christmas pantomime (every village has its Linda Snell. In our last village, she lived next door. Enough said).
One one, level, the Archers is deeply boring ("It is Monday moring, and Phil is opening his post." How my children used to hoot with derision at lines such as that one), but on another, it's wonderfully reassuring; a kind of aural security blanket. So long as people are making cherry yoghurt and delivering calves and drinking down at the Bull in Ambridge, life can't be that bad.