Mary Skipwith
Mar 17, 2022
3 minutes
HE kaleidoscope of adventure that growing up on a farm brings is something I will never cease to be grateful for. Whether hacking around our fields in Northamptonshire, picnicking in the harvest stubble or learning to pluck pheasants and pocketing a treasured 20p per bird, there was always something to enjoy. In my teens, I earned a few pennies more driving tractors, and in my twenties, I would run the farm perimeter to get my dose of home when back from university
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