If we as a society are willing to have a preference for organic food, the farmer can pass on the savings.
This assumption that the blue collar crowd is not supposed to read it, or a farmer in his overalls is not to read poetry, seems to be dangerous if not tragic.
I went to UC Santa Cruz, overlooking the Bay of Monterey and Santa Cruz, in 1969. Back then, the city was part-hippie, part-surfer, but mostly retired chicken farmer.
I would supplant the ox with the automobile and pave instead of plowing the fields. 1 have a theory that if a corn field were paved, leaving out a brick for each hill, it would increase the yield, do away entirely with the mud, and give the farmer plenty of time to meditate on lofty subjects. That is only one theory. I have many others.
They're thinking of turning the peasant into an educated man. Why, first of all they should make him a good and prosperous farmer and then he'll learn all that is necessary for him to know.
When the farmer can sell directly to the consumer, it is a more active process. There's more contact. The consumer can know, who am I buying this from? What's their name? Do they have a face? Is the food they are selling coming out of Mexico with pesticides?
I always assumed the Department of Agriculture was the farmer and rancher's friend.
I am not a farmer; I am a researcher who studies the plants that come to your dinner table, which means that I ask questions for a living.
Frankly, any city person who doesn't think I deserve a white-collar salary as a farmer doesn't deserve my special food.
I'm a farmer now, and it's fantastic. My goal is to be totally self-sufficient and grow everything that I eat. There's something about earning your dinner that's cool.
If the rain spoils our picnic, but saves a farmer's crop, who are we to say it shouldn't rain?
I was lucky to grow up at a time when it was not difficult for the child of a tenant farmer to make his way to the state university.
My Swedish grandmother was the daughter of a dairy farmer who lived near Hedemora. My Swedish grandfather worked as a clerk for the Swedish railways in the Stockholm station.
There are only three things that can kill a farmer: lightning, rolling over in a tractor, and old age.