Quotes About Farm

This was a dairy cow, and dairy cows have IDs on them. The ID was traced back to the farm in Washington. It's a dairy farm. And that farm now has been quarantined, and the owners have been very cooperative in doing that.

I did several interesting jobs, working in restaurants, I worked at a lab rat farm, feeding and watering all these rats. Then I got a full-time job as a technical writer for a large scientific research laboratory.

My childhood was idyllic to begin with. We lived on a farm in Oxfordshire and my mum used its produce in the kitchen. She made plain, English-style food, cooked exceptionally - it's what I've based my career on.

I learned a lot of lessons growing up on my family's farm on the Eastern Shore: the dignity of hard work, the importance of planning ahead, and the joy you get from serving others. Not to mention how to collect eggs, shear a sheep, and bail hay by hand.

I grew up on what everybody called a plantation - but believe me, it wasn't a plantation. It was just an old farm. I grew up with a lot of black people working in the fields, and it was during the Depression between 1930 and the war, so we were all poor - black and white.

When I was growing up on our 53-acre dairy farm, we were obsessed with food; it was the center of our lives. We planted it, grew it, harvested it, peeled it, cooked it, served it, consumed it - endlessly, day after day, season after season.

I grew up on a farm playing backyard footie in my bare feet.

I've got two pigs, which doesn't constitute a farm. I just keep them in a field. They are very pleasant.

Our father was a farmer and an entrepreneur as well as a musician, and we're pleased to deliver the fine taste of Jamaican coffee and our family's heritage to people everywhere through Marley's One Drop.

Growing up on a farm, I saw that if I didn't go to the military or go to school, and I knew my mom and my family wasn't going to be able to send me to school out of their pocket, so it basically came down to athletics. I knew I didn't want to work on a farm. I knew I didn't want to do manual labor the rest of my life.

I lived on the farm with my parents and grandparents. I had no playmates as a young child, and I was indulged. I helped my grandmother piece quilts, and we made pretty albums, an old-fashioned pastime. We cut poems and pictures out of magazines.

In Argentina, we're surrounded by polo ponies. The farm covers roughly 170 hectares, and there are no cattle or sheep, just horses.

I had a very happy childhood. I was lucky to grow up surrounded by nature and animals, to be outside all the time, and to work on a big farm with my dad.

I'm comfortable in any situation. I don't have fears about a lot of things. It's not a survival thing, but on a farm, you always look after yourself. You're very independent, but you're still very family-oriented.

We started Marley Coffee from a farm perspective, and ever since, we've been doing things in a sustainable way and organically.

The town I grew up in, there were no musicians to play with; it was just me. The town I grew up in, there was two shops: like, a paper shop that sells confectionery, sweets and stuff, and, like, a farm supplies and a petrol station. That was literally it.

On my grandmother's chicken farm, they had cows, and they had this big metal container that the cows drank out of, and we used to swim in it. And we used to get into the chicken feed bins and dive through them.

Cows are my passion. What I have ever sighed for has been to retreat to a Swiss farm, and live entirely surrounded by cows - and china.

A farm without stock, a home without children. The world here was dying.

There was Henry Blakely who fell into the threshing machine that time and that was pretty grizzly.

THREE-QUARTERS OF A CENTURY dances by in a five-second flip. Nicholas Hoel thumbs through the stack of a thousand photos, watching for those decades' secret meaning. At twenty-five, he's back for a moment on the farm where he has spent every Christmas of his life. He's lucky to be there, given the cancellations. Snowstorms sweep in from the west, grounding planes all over the country

The farm god rolled his eyes. He pointed at the corn plant, and BAM! Nico di Angelo appeared in an exposion of corn silk. Nico looked around in panic. I-I had the weirdest nightmare about popcorn.

From here he could see the farmer's daughter in the yard, feeding the geese. Wasn't there a nursery rhyme in there somewhere? No, he was thinking of the farmer's wife, wasn't he?--cutting off tails with a carving knife. A horrid image. Poor mice, he had thought when he was a boy. Still thought the same now that he was a man. Nursery rhymes were brutal affairs.

She told me the only way I would be happy on Milk Farm Road with my mother would be to turn off the radio. This would eliminate a great deal of temptation.