"How did you get here?" My family's farm story.
As you know, I have two daughters. And they are becoming a statistic.
Like so many Americans, they are growing up further away from the farm than the generation before them.
I grew up on a small farm with lots going on in various phases and combinations--corn, tobacco, hogs, cattle, goats, chickens, pickling cucumbers. Not many like it anymore in today's world of specialization. But it was a great place to grow up.
I realized, even before they were born, my kids would not grow up with the experiences I had: hours mending fences with my dad, feeding goats, castrating pigs, rounding up loose cows, walking the field to pick up corn the combine missed (we were a thrifty bunch), gathering and cleaning eggs for the local grocery, stripping tobacco. Those were some of the sights, sounds and smells of my youth. (To this day, nothing smells as sweet as a tobacco barn in the fall... nothing like a burning cigarette!)
Those were the experiences, along with my years in FFA and 4H, that really shaped my education and career choices.
So, after a few years in the 'burbs, when The Husband and I had to uproot and move back to Indiana, I succeeded in convincing him to buy our 10-acre plot of land a few miles outside of our little town. Here, we rent out the "back 40", er, 7 (along with a couple adjoining neighbors) to a local farmer, who share-crops corn or soybeans with us every year.
Because of this little homestead, my girls have had the opportunity to sample some of the blessings and experiences that their suburban classmates are missing, like riding a combine in the fall and watching the soybeans sprout in the spring. They have the chance to work with the dairy cows on a generous neighbor's farm for their 4H projects, learning what's involved in caring for large animals (including the manure!). They have friends who raise pigs and friends who raise sheep. This life comes with an appreciation that our food doesn't just come from Kroger.
While it's not exactly the same as growing up on a real-live working farm, it's the best I can provide--and that is something very important to me.
So, I don't call myself a "Farmwife" my any measure. That would be an insult to all those hard-working gals married to real farmers.
If you ask The Husband, he's more likely tell you I'm the farmer around here.
Our little plot of land (which is just enough to require us to file an Agricultural Tax Form with the IRS each year) doesn't need the blood, sweat and tears that so many American families put forth every day to feed some 150 other people.
Instead, my day-to-day job is more of a support role, in which I get to educate and communicate with farmers, as well as veterinarians and consumers about issues related to animal health and care and food safety. While I play a very small part in a very big picture, I'm proud that I can be involved with the industry I love.
Instead, my day-to-day job is more of a support role, in which I get to educate and communicate with farmers, as well as veterinarians and consumers about issues related to animal health and care and food safety. While I play a very small part in a very big picture, I'm proud that I can be involved with the industry I love.
If you want to check out other stories of Real Farmwives of Indiana, visit my friends at:
Here was the routine for getting into the barns:
Overall, the operation was impressive, and the farm staff seemed to really enjoy working with the animals, and took pride in the work they do.