You can tell people you are outstanding in your field.
it takes guts
Oh, .... I see.
The bees think that this ability is just the bee's knees.
Because he had a ton of sick beets.
Does that make it a Red October?
Attract her.
After failing to win for about 9 times in a row, Jaime, hired a spy who will go and check Jack's harvest the night before the contest so he can harvest more. As the spy came back the night before, he informed the farmer Jaime about the amount that he saw inside Jack's yard but he was not able to tell the amount in exact. Jaime took the spy to his paddy field, gave him some extra money than what they initially agreed upon and said...
"You reap what you saw".
So, she walks over and takes a seat next to him on the bench, turns to him and says, "Sorry to bother you. I know this may be a little forward but I would love to grab coffee with you some time."
Flattered, the man responds, "Sure... but what makes you so certain you and I would get along so well?"
"Well..." the woman says. "A couple things, actually. I noticed you were wearing an Iron Maiden t-shirt. Iron Maiden are my favorite band of all time. When they went on their reunion tour in 1999, my parents took me to see them in Cleveland. I was 12 years old and it was the first concert I ever went to. I absolutely love Iron Maiden."
The man can't believe it.
"I saw them play Cleveland in '99! First concert I ever went to on my own. My best friend Jimmy Spitz and I told our parents we were sleeping at each others' houses, snuck out, took a bus into the city and saw them play at the Plain Dealer Pavillion!"
Naturally, they're both shocked.
"If that isn't weird enough..." says the woman. "I noticed you're reading Mark Twain. I was a communications major in university and I actually wrote my thesis on Mark Twain and how he used satire as a lens to comment on current events of the time, comparing him to satirical news sources of today. He's my favorite author."
Now the man is really taken aback, "Get out of here! I was an English major in university! I specialized in 19th century American literature and this is like my fourth or fifth time reading Tom Sawyer, I absolutely love Mark Twain."
They both can't believe it...this has got to be a match made in heaven.
"Ok..." the woman says. "Well, buckle up because here's the icing on the cake. I noticed you're eating a prune. Prunes are my absolute favorite fruit. When I was a kid, my grandfather lived on a farm. He had an orchard that mainly grew apples and some lemons, but he knew how much my sister and I loved prunes so he kept a couple of plum trees. Every year at the end of the summer, we'd go up and harvest the plums with him. He'd dry them and by the time we'd go back to his place for Thanksgiving he'd always have those prunes saved just for us. They're my favorite fruit! I love prunes, you're eating a prune, this has got to be fate. What do you say?"
The man puts down his fruit and responds,
"It's a date!"
Because it's still Lint!
...and ends up on the Island of Trid. The people there are starving and explain to the pastor that it’s because whenever they try to harvest the fruit at the top of the mountain, the nasty giant comes out of his cave and boots them all back down the hill. This infuriates the pastor who then declares that tomorrow he will join them on their next attempt. The next day they all march up the mountain together, and sure enough, out comes the giant who proceeds to kick all of the locals back down the hill leaving only the new guy to gather fruit at his leisure. Finally, he stops and asks the giant, “Well, aren’t you going to knock me off the mountain?”. Shaking his head, the giant says, “Silly rabbi, kicks are for Trids”.
We de-liver
It’s pretty high koala tea
The ancient Greeks greatly feared volcanic explosions from Mt. Olympus, so they developed a tradition of sacrificing young maidens to the Gods on the mountain. Every year they selected five girls, and sacrificed four. Then they assigned the other one to stomp the olive harvest. That’s where we get Extra Virgin Olive Oil.
He had a concubine harvester.
Sturgery!
They do their best to navigate that maize.
A cornycopia
Sweet
Trevor loved tractors. And I mean, really loved tractors. Forget any obsessions or high-level interests you may have, chances are they pale in the face of Trevor’s love for tractors.
Every day Trevor would get up, in his tractor-themed bedroom in his tractor-themed house, with its tractor-themed wallpaper and tractor-themed carpets, and he would make his bed with its tractor-themed duvet and tractor-themed sheets. He would go downstairs in his tractor-themed pajamas into his tractor-themed kitchen, with its tractor-themed tiles and cupboards, and he would eat his breakfast while perusing the latest tractor-themed magazine or annual.
Trevors’s degree in Agricultural Engineering hung on his living room wall, along with a copy of his thesis, which centred around (you guessed it) tractors. The living room was decorated with all sorts of tractor-related trinkets, including die-cast models, paintings and drawings.
The hedges in Trevor’s front garden were trimmed in the shape of tractors. His lawn was vividly decorated with tractor-driving garden gnomes, and his garden furniture was constructed from various parts from vintage tractor designs.
Trevor just had one thing missing from his otherwise tractor-centric life; he had never actually owned, nor driven, a real tractor.
Not for his lack of trying, of course. Trevor had been to many tractor shows over the years, and visited many farms with friends of his, but none of the tractors he had seen had ever been quite right. Trevor was so knowledgeable about tractors that every single one he had come across had possessed some hidden trait that he wasn’t keen on. His first experience of driving a real tractor had to be perfect.
One day, Trevor was flicking through one of his favourite publications, Powertrain Quarterly, when there was a knock at the door. Trevor answered, and it was his friend and fellow tractor enthusiast, Jeff.
Trevor welcomed Jeff in, and over tea and crumpets served on tractor-themed crockery, they discussed the merits of aluminium drawbars and front-end loaders. Eventually Trevor pressed Jeff to explain the reason for his visit.
“Well” said Jeff, “As I’m sure you know the convention comes to town later”.
The convention. Trevor had been thinking of little else the past three weeks. The neighbouring town annually threw a convention for farmers, particularly farmyard machinery. There would be combine harvesters, lawnmowers, and of course, tractors.
“Yes of course” replied Trevor
... keep reading on reddit ➡She’s a keeper!
She kept wearing crop tops.
11 years old and he still doesn't know my name is Brian.
"Just let them bee"
The stonefruit was almost ready for harvest when he was hit with a bout of laryngitis that left him unable to talk. Despite the doctors orders for bed rest, he went into the orchard early one morning to find all of his mature peach trees had been stolen. He was peachless."
I told her I'm glad the rover is not going to Uranus.
Wesbite for those interested in sending their name to Mars and not Uranus
The song playing from my phone said something about growing old and my brother responded with this gem: "You always hear about people growing old, but they never talk about harvesting it."
Needless to say headshakes were had.
EDIT: Spelling.
I have never liked this croppy work environment, but this day's harvest is the final straw!
That's the harvest part.
There was two farms next to each other, separated by a long fence. The two farmers were called nick and Barry. They were both very resourceful farmers, using each and every square inch of land to grow on. Both would tend to their crops twice a day every single day, and became friends. However, both farmers were penny pinchers, and would often try and take a few extra crops from the other side of the fence, which lead to arguments. One day, Barry came out to tend his crops, but nick did not appear once. This continued for several days. Both sets of crops continued to grow, along and up the fence, eventually intertwining. Both farmers were growing wheat. After around 5 days, Barry came out and to his delight, saw nick tending to his harvest. However, this delight soon changed to frustration as he saw nick taking extra crops from his side. "Where have you been, and what do you think you're doing?" He exclaimed. "I'm taking in my wheat, and I haven't been out for a few days due to illness. I've been feeling queasy and dizzy when I stand up, with a throbbing pain in my head each time. But it's ok, they're only headaches." "Oh I don't think so mister" said Barry.
"Those are my grains!"
The snacking nut millions around the world is actually pronounced 'amond' and not 'almond'. I found this out recently when visiting family friends who own an amond orchard in CA.
I asked the owner why they are supposed to be called amonds and not almonds and he said it has to do with the harvesting process. See what they do is spread a large tarp out beneath the almond tree. Then they bring in a machine that attaches to the trunk. This machine is very specialized and is designed to create prolonged and intense vibrations, similar to the tool that is used to level/even out concrete. Once the machine is attached to the almond tree it is turned out. The intense vibrations in the trunk lead to the amonds falling out of the tree and onto the tarp. You see, the machine "shook the L out of em!"
My science professor is in his 50s and he's constantly making dad jokes during his lectures.
Yesterday he was talking about Gregor Mendel. He said every year at Mendel's monastery, they would harvest their fish and have a big fish fry. He went on to say that they eventually got potatoes from other countries and they basically had fish and chips.
He said at one of the fish fries, someone asked Mendel if he was the fish friar.
Mendel replied "No, I'm the chip monk."
Edit: Spelling error.
Me: I'll have an a-mond danish. Wife: You mean almond? (doesn't suspect a thing) Me: Do you know how they harvest a-monds? Wife: No. (still clueless) Me: They use a big piece of machinery to grab the tree and shake the L out of it. (Couldn't see any eye rolling because I was too busy doing a Jordan fadeaway in the very busy bakery)
So on our way back home from a buisness trip with a coworker I bust this gem out
"I wonder where they store the wind after harvest" -me Coworker silently smiles and shakes head
Because he had a ton of sick beets.
Because he had a ton of sick beets.
when can you harvest it?
