A Treasury Secretary or a President should be out here not fighting S&P, not grabbing the other coach and slapping him around, taking the umpire behind the barn. He should be getting the team psyched to overcome.

Do I enjoy features? Yeah, I really do. Would I like to do some more features before I head to the barn? Yeah, probably. But I also love television. I love doing television because it's fast, and that I like a lot.

I'm not thin, but I'm strong - plus my balance is such that I can navigate a flight of stairs with a basket of laundry and a stack of Pottery Barn catalogs, vaulting over cat-and-dog hurdles, never once spilling my coffee.

My parents taught me many of the things that people need in life to feel confident: practical things, such as managing finances, mucking out the goat barn, cleaning a house, doing repairs, mending a broken roof or a toilet.

After clearing the land, planting the orchard, building the house and barn, and surviving the Great Depression, our father died suddenly one winter night when we were small, leaving us to learn about loss before we even knew its name.

When I'm not working, I love going to the beach. I am from Florida, so I definitely love the beach life. I love horse-back riding. Just to go out to a barn, it's fun. It's kind of like a get-away from the city. And also, I love animals.

My tour manager, I met him at Boot Barn. He was selling me a pair of boots... and he said, 'I moved to Nashville to be a tour manager, and I need work right now,' and I said, 'Man, I don't even have a tour manager. So you can tour-manage me.'

I know that organic farms can be industrial and just as large and impersonal as conventional farms. Sometimes the free-range chickens aren't even allowed outside, and so they cluck-walk packed tight in a dim lit barn. But organic farms use fewer chemicals.

I heard a young black pianist. He was a teenager, I was eight years old, and he was playing boogie-woogie, and he just knocked me out. He thought he was alone in the old barn on the beat-up upright piano, but I was hiding in the corner so he wouldn't see me.

I'm originally from Dallas, Texas, where Bonnie and Clyde were from, so when I was a little kid, my grandfather used to drive me past the Barrow Filling Station. At my elementary school, there was a barn outside that they used to say was a Bonnie and Clyde hangout.

Saudi Arabia is, of course, the keystone of OPEC. Saudi Arabia has had the distinction of remaining stable through all the escalating tumult of recent decades, reliably pumping out its roughly 10 million barrels a day like Bossy the cow in America's oil import barn.

Since we can't count on the meat, egg, and dairy industries to protect animals from the most egregious forms of cruelty, what can we, as consumers, do? Opting out of paying someone to allow animals to die in a barn fire or at the slaughterhouse seems pretty reasonable.

Never let it be said that the world of international economics isn't exciting or adventurous. OK, I exaggerate, because not even the most imaginative mind could construe the annual meetings of the International Monetary Fund and World Bank to be a nail-biting barn burner.

A farmer travelling with his load Picked up a horseshoe on the road, And nailed if fast to his barn door, That luck might down upon him pour; That every blessing known in life Might crown his homestead and his wife, And never any kind of harm Descend upon his growing farm.

My favourite Friday treat is to drive out of the centre of Cambridge, where we live, and go for a swim at the health club I've just joined out in the countryside at Quy. It's a lovely pool, inside a converted barn. Usually it's just me and a couple of other swimmers there.

The barn doors are open, and the horses are running out because we've got guns all over the place. It's basically a cold war for individuals: you've got a nuclear bomb, and I've got a nuclear bomb, and the only thing stopping us from using them is the fact we both have them.

I really wanted to find a piano for the farm house. There were so many free pianos on Craigslist, I thought, 'Let's get as many free pianos as we can and stick them all in the barn.' I got eight in a short period of time, only six of which were tunable, but it's still quite funny.

My mom grew up with horses, and when I turned 14, 15, she's like, 'Do you want to take a riding lesson?' I thought, 'Oh, gross, dirty.' She was like, 'Okay.' And then I did, and now I'm the one cleaning those damn stalls out. You can't get me away from the barn now. It shocks even me.

My father kept me busy from dawn to dusk when I was a kid. When I wasn't pitching hay, hauling corn or running a tractor, I was heaving a baseball into his mitt behind the barn... If all the parents in the country followed his rule, juvenile delinquency would be cut in half in a year's time.

The harsh truth is, most red-haired men look like blondes who've spoiled from lack of refrigeration. They look like brown-haired men who've been composted out behind the barn. Yet that same pigmentation that on a man can resemble leaf mold or junkyard rust, a woman wears like a tiara of rubies.

When I do entertain, in the summer, which is rare, I receive my guests on the front porch, set up wicker trays found at Pottery Barn, and serve iced beverages. Anytime I do welcome friends, it's always a tray of canapes or Planters peanuts, jellied candy from Paris, and a good bottle of Sancerre.

I've got one of those over-stuffed leather chairs from the Pottery Barn. It faces north. I live in San Francisco, so there's the Golden Gate Bridge off to the left, and there's Alcatraz off to the right, and I've got a pile of pulp fiction next to me, and there's usually a decent bottle of red wine next to the fireplace.

When 'The Walking Dead' has been its best, all that stuff is happening at once: the emotion, action, horror, scares. I'm very proud that I was able to write an episode where a little zombie girl could walk out of a barn after a horrific zombie execution and have people cry. That's one of the proudest things I've ever done.

The Kings played out of the Memorial Community Centre, an old wooden barn like you'd see in other Prairie towns. It was built after World War II and the Kings were the biggest thing in town. The Memorial was packed for every game - maybe 3,000 when we'd play the Kenora Muskies or other rival towns. It seemed like everyone in town came out to games.

Share This Page