It’s officially fall in the Faber house. How would I know, may you ask? Is it the milk line reaching full levels on my corn kernels and the sound of choppers firing up? Is it the last cuttings of grass coming in? A few more calves fighting lung issues with more foggy mornings?

It’ll soon be that time of year again: World Dairy Expo time, the Super Bowl of all things bovine.

The mornings are getting crisp, the leaves are holding onto their last bit of summer life, and it is Mrs. Faber’s favorite time of year. The kids are going back to school. 

Je viens d’une famille de randonneurs. Mon père a gravi de nombreuses montagnes de notre région. Et comme il a fait ça avant Instagram, c’est donc que, manifestement, il aimait vraiment faire cette activité! 

The year was 1999, and school buses across America were ringing with kids loudly yelling, “Whassup?”

There is nothing more grounding than being covered with 24-hour-old, dairy-cow-processed total mixed ration (TMR). 

It’s a big month in the Faber house as we celebrate the birthday of America and our middle daughter. The plus side of having a child with a birthday on July 4 is that we tell her all the fireworks and barbecues are in her honor.

The Faber family is hitting the Oregon Trail, dodging typhoid fever, cholera and dysentery. For those readers who don’t think Social Security will be around for them when they retire, this is a reference to the popular computer game Oregon Trail.

It’s that time of the year in the Pacific Northwest; the tulips are in bloom, the geese have flown to northern Canada to deliver more political promises from Justin Trudeau and the grass is ready to cut. 

Choosing a favorite cow breed is like choosing a favorite kid; and it doesn’t matter what your parents told you, there is always a favorite kid.