Looking back at the past decade, looking forward to the next

Hello folks, and Happy New Year's Eve!

I've noticed as I've scrolled through Twitter today that many people are going beyond their usual December 31 "year in review" posts to recap the whole last decade. I guess I might as well play along, too, so in a few broad strokes I'll try to paint you a picture of what life has been like on the farm over the past ten years.

Me at the start of the decade versus me at the end of the decade.
I'm ten years older and wiser...and about twenty pounds heavier.

We entered 2010 coming off what was considered to be the worst stretch for milk prices in a generation. We obviously survived, but we've been hamstrung by it ever since. Prices briefly recovered, then fell again. Then we actually went through a couple of years of really good milk prices, but they would soon be offset by another sharp decline and stagnant recovery. Plans to build new and update existing facilities were tabled indefinitely then scrapped all together once we decided that the capital investment wasn't worth the risk based upon the long-term outlook for a 200 cow dairy in Alabama. We began the decade with plans to keep our dairy operational well into the future, but we're closing it out as we work through a plan that will see our farm fully transition from dairy to beef production.

But it's not all been doom and gloom on the dairy these past ten years. Yes, some years the milk price was good and more years it wasn't. Same goes for our forage crops...some years the weather was kind, others it wasn't. And while we make plans for the weeks and months and years ahead, we can only live one day at a time. Thankfully, there have been a whole lot more good days than bad. For all the challenges we've faced, I've been able to lay my head down each night knowing that what we do is all worth it.

my father & my kids in our milking barn, Spring 2015

Switching the focus from the farm to farm life, it's been quite the eventful decade. My wife and I began it with a toddler and an infant and are ending it with a teenager and a preteen. It's been such a blessing watching our kids grow and develop! Both are excellent, gifted students and involved in all kinds of activities. There's no telling how many hours we've spent at ball fields and in gyms over the past ten years, and now we're adding music to the mix. Our son may have found his niche playing trombone in the high school's band, and our daughter has recently taken to playing the piano like a duck to water. What we're most proud of though is that they both have placed their faith in Christ and are growing spiritually just as they are in every other aspect of their lives.

And since I mentioned faith, one of the positive turning points for our family this past decade was the decision to step away from the church I grew up in and be open to God leading us somewhere new. It only took a couple of months to find that place. I've said before that there's a difference between going to church and having a church family, and that's exactly what we've found at Fellowship Baptist over the past five years.

Looking ahead to 2020, better milk prices should lead to a good year on the farm as long as the weather cooperates and we do good with our forage crops. I have no idea where we'll stand by the time 2030 rolls around, though. Our oldest kid will be an adult and our youngest should be halfway through college. The last dairy cow will have long since left our farm by that time as we will have already completely transitioned over to beef production. The biggest question (worry) I have is whether or not our beef herd will generate enough income for both my parents and my family. If so, great! If not, I reckon I'll be in my 40s looking for an off-the-farm job for the first time in my life. Come whatever may, there's not much I can do but take things as they come day by day, trust in the Lord, and do the best I can to serve my family, church, and community.

My parents, wife, children, and I on the farm in 2010 and at my deacon ordination service in 2019.

I hope both the coming year and decade bring blessings to you and your family, and thanks so much for following along with me over the past years both here and on social media.  I hope I've given you an accurate glimpse of what life's like on a small dairy farm in rural Alabama...and maybe a little something to smile about along the way, too.

Farm & Life Update (5/16/19)

originally posted Thursday morning at 6am

Good morning from the parlor where Dad and I have now milked 170 of our 193 cows and the sky’s changing hues herald the sun’s impending arrival. Fans have been circulating cooler fresh air through the barn to keep both us and the cows comfortable, a task that will be increasing difficult as we approach and soon enter the summer.

Despite two flat tires slowing progress yesterday and one of our farmhands needing off at least part of today, I think we are still on track to get our “hill ground” corn planted by the end of the week. If so and we stay relatively dry heading into next week, we could be looking at a run of days that are extremely busy even by dairy farm standards. There are hay fields to clip, bottomland fields to plant, corn to sidedress and spray, calves to vaccinate, and of course the cows still have to be milked twice daily.

On top of the farm work, I have a family to spend time with, Wednesday night Bible study lessons to prepare for June, cross-state meetings to attend, phone calls to make, and I’m sure a number of other responsibilities that aren’t immediately coming to mind. It can be overwhelming if I try to look too far beyond the horizon, so I just try to make the best of today and put myself in a good starting position for tomorrow. There is such a thing as being too busy, but Luke 12:48b says, "From everyone who has been given much, much will be required; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, even more will be expected." The Lord’s given me opportunities to be useful in different ways to different people and He’ll sustain me as long as I'm faithful to stick to the path He’s laid out for me.

So let’s all work diligently today but remember that our worth isn’t solely defined by our work. Take time to smell the roses, extend kindness to your neighbor, and have a dairy good day.

There's something about this place

Sometimes I catch myself staring at a particular spot in a field or pasture for no apparent reason. Occasionally I'll park a tractor in the middle of doing field work, climb up onto the hood, and spend a minute surveying the farm around me. I enjoy soaking up the beauty of my surroundings in the the quiet moments I often spend on my front porch after the morning milking or at the end of the day.

There's something about this place.

the view from my front porch this morning

I was told growing up that I was smart enough to go anywhere and do anything I wanted. But there's something about this place that made it impossible for me to believe I could ever be happy being anywhere else or doing anything else.

I've spent the last fifteen-plus years heavily involved in several different farming organizations, and that involvement has often required me to spend significant time off the farm. Perhaps the effort has not always yielded the intended results, but there's something about this place that drives me to use my abilities in a way that helps enable myself and others to farm more freely and successfully.

I've spent countless hours sharing the story of my farm and industry with classrooms, reporters, civic groups, and thousands upon thousands of people I'll never actually meet on the internet. It can be a grind at times, but there's something about this place that's worth telling people about...especially those who have no personal connection to such a place.

I wonder if my ancestors ever reflected on the past and pondered on the future of this little spot of ground like I do. I think about all the decisions that must have been made by my family members over the last century-and-a-half that have led to my opportunity to call this place home, as well as how many times a different decision along the way could have completely re-written my story before it ever started.

Our farm isn't blessed with especially fertile soil, and we fight more than our fair share of kudzu and privet and pigweed. But it's ours, and it's home. It's both where I live and make my living, and I pray that holds true until I draw my final breath. Perhaps our kids will choose to make their lives and rear their families on the farm, perhaps their dreams will carry them elsewhere. Only God knows what the future holds for this place, but we are thankful He's entrusted its stewardship to our family for multiple generations.

There's something about this place that makes it worth conserving.

There's something about this place that makes it worth fighting for.

There's something about this place that makes it the only place I'll ever be able to call "home."