As newlyweds, on a year’s extended honeymoon, we’d lived in the gatekeeper’s cottage of a beautiful old farmhouse in Opio, near Grasse.
I will not have this regiment torn asunder by such cowardly prattle. Somewhere in the Province of Massachusetts Bay there is a loyal countryman in whose farmhouse we can tarry for a night.
The farmhouse is dignified by the great elm around it.
A year later, he was forced out at gunpoint; 15 months later the farmhouse burned down.
From the back door of the farmhouse to the creeping edge of the forest, our yard was bathed in light, as if a borderland to cross carefully, in fear of be-ing exposed.
But the little Red Hen lived happily ever after, in her own little farmhouse.
Thanks to my desire for built-in bookcases and top-notch replacement Windows in our 1845 Maine farmhouse, we had renovated ourselves beyond our means.
It is a warm February afternoon and the sun is streaming through the open doors of a large, airy farmhouse set at the far end of a guarded estate outside Libya's capital, Tripoli.
I opened the plastic boxes that I'd carried, sealed, all the way from London, and the stench of farmhouse cheeses began to waft across the room.
There are nine bedrooms, a coach house, a farmhouse, five cottages and farmland.
They stayed one day and one night in the farmhouse of a very humble farm.
Look to castle peak, BeiYi bamboo, green water, pines and bamboo this ordinary farmhouse set off exuberant.
His only hope is his beloved sister Veronica, a garden-designer, who lives with a needy lover, Kitty, in a “mood of robust contentment” at Les Glaniques, a fine Cévennes farmhouse.
The best thing to do in this circumstance is to hole up with a band of disparate strangers in a farmhouse, mall or futuristic high-rise and hope that they finish that new expansion of Hades soon.