I love the transition of the seasons. I love living in a place that has seasons. I love the gradual slowdown in the fall as much as I crave the increase in activity in the spring.

Farming isn’t for the faint of heart, the lazy or the unconcerned. Farming is for the trailblazers, for the pioneers and for the optimists.

“Ewe lamb up for discussion.” I read on my nightly doom scroll through Facebook. “What does that even mean?” I thought.

The twitch of butterflies in my stomach reminded me I was nervous. I shifted in my saddle to ease the tension in my knees and in my gut. Reba, whose mother was named Dolly, sensed my anxiety and danced as I waited for the announcer to read my name.

Government agencies love to categorize farmers, and they are categorized every which way.

 Family dynamics are hard to begin with. Then throw in a family business. And this family business is a farm.