Most people give up just when they’re about to achieve success. They quit on the one yard line. They give up at the last minute of the game one foot from a winning touchdown.
I don’t want to be throwing the football on the front yard when I’m 75. I mean, I’m not opposed to men doing that. But I don’t think it’s gonna work for me.
My husband and I have, in some ways, a non-traditional relationship – especially when it comes to domestic duties. He does most of the cooking, dishes, and laundry, while I do most of the yard work. I love to mow the lawn! And I take great satisfaction in planting and pruning.
You don’t need a gym to develop real strength. Just get an empty keg of beer and fill it with sand or water and simply pick it up, carry it in your back yard, flip it, anything just to get moving for as little as 15 minutes.
All was well, until I reached the port of Havre. Three officers with the rank of lieutenant, whom afterwards I knew to be Scotland Yard men, came aboard and demanded to see my papers which they took away from me.
I grew up a huge jock, a lot of basketball and football. We had a pond in my back yard growing up, and we played a lot of hockey, too. I loved to score goals.
The children of the 1980s were the last before a lot of things changed. We were the last generation not to have cell phones, not to have video games, not to have parents who worried if we strayed from the yard.
I like stand-up. But I’d also like a family and house and a yard. I want to work with a lot of people, have colleagues; and on good film sets, there’s people there that work with the same people for years and years. I love that collaborative spirit in that medium. Comedy is a lot more solitary.
I was in my yard and thought that the tree was a living being. We take trees for granted. We don’t believe they are as much alive as we are.
I like to play paintball in my back yard.
When I’m not working, I’m down in North Carolina and we have a rather large yard, so I’m usually struggling with vines and pulling things down. I get plenty of exercise in the garden.
Even if you have nothing in your wallet, nothing can keep you from having a great summer. You can listen to crickets sing you to sleep, trace the Big Dipper, breathe in the stars, run through a sprinkler, host a cartwheel contest in the front yard.
When I was eight or nine, we had a goal in the back yard of our council flat. We used to flip it over the back fence and take it out onto the estate. Everyone would come out and we’d play for hours, there were cars screeching to a halt when the ball went on the road.
I’m from Louisiana, and I’m used to having space and a yard.
Buckhannon, population 5,639, is a deeply conservative town and long has been. While coal is its past, oil and gas are its likely future. It’s a town where guns are sold at yard sales, where Pentecostal churches are nearly as common as restaurants, and where distrust of Hillary Clinton is visceral and deep-seated.
On the nights the Lakers played, I wouldn’t miss a second of the game. Every timeout, every commercial, I’d run to the front yard to imitate my favorite Laker, Kobe.
I feel like I’m kind of lazy, but I keep the yard looking good.
Thank you, yard sales, for being the perfect way to say to your neighbors: ‘We think we’re important enough to charge money for our garbage.’
For ‘King Cole’s American Salvage,’ I rode around in the wrecker with a local driver and watched him deal with customers and hook up the cars. I watched the guy who tore apart the cars in the junkyard. I also wrote poems about those guys. I loved hanging around the yard.
Being born in a duck yard does not matter, if only you are hatched from a swan’s egg.
I go out and walk around the yard. Sometimes I’ll cut grass.
I’m different to someone like Jamie Vardy, who is a lot quicker than me but if he loses a yard he loses a large part of his game – whereas I never had the yard in the first place.
I vaguely remember we had an air-raid shelter in our yard. We lived in a semi-detached house with a small garden in the suburbs of Salford, a couple of miles from the docks.
My father would give his dinner to any hungry kids who walked by and then go in the backyard and pick weeds from the yard to eat.
I’m a five-seasons griller! Did you know I added a new season? Living in Cali, I’m cooking in the yard all the time. I don’t care what the weather is like. My hair is impervious to any kind of dampness, so I don’t have too much to worry about.
I don’t just love riding; I love horses. I was in the field at my yard watching them gallop around and play the other day. That’s what keeps me going, and sometimes it has to be something more than just winning.
When I spent time with my father, it wasn’t playing ball in the back yard. I came to his office and listened to him do business or sat in on meetings. I walked job sites. On Saturday, we’d see my grandfather in Queens for a couple hours, and then he’d say, ‘Let’s go collect rent!’
Finishing a book is just like you took a child out in the back yard and shot it.
I started as a working pupil in a yard, mucking out and doing all the duties… and I just never gave up on my dream.
I got colored mechanics in the United States Navy Yard for the first time.
My earliest memories are of watching ‘Star Trek’ and ‘MASH’ while my parents barbecued chicken in the back yard. I was an American kid, through and through.
I will always do what I can to help others, but when I retire, I want to be a dad and a husband. I want a house and a dog in the yard. I want to have barbecues.
