We froze when we heard the screaming. My girlfriend’s father had gone ahead to bring the car around while she, her mother and I waited by the door of the restaurant. He shrieked as if in the greatest pain of his life. The women ran toward him.

I’ve never read an instruction manual or how-to book in my life, but somehow people keep giving me their broken stuff – and this perplexes me. Even if it were working, why would I want it?

“Give it to me straight, Heather,” the post read. “Lucy is still breastfeeding, but we’re starting to think about transitioning her to whole milk in a few months. I’m worried about extra hormones. Should I be looking for hormone-free milk? Or should I just be buying it for her when she’s old enough?”

I was stuck. My family was gone. I was 20 hours from home in teeny-tiny Kirksville, Missouri, and day one of college classes started the next day. It wasn’t the first time I’d been away from home, nor was it the first time I’d moved. Between summer camps and my family moving from California to Connecticut when I was 10, being away from home and moving were not foreign concepts to me.

I don’t know about you, but I am going bonkers with this election process. It is a Barnum and Bailey circus without any safety nets or guide wires. The tigers are loose in the ring, the announcers don’t know which way to turn, and the photographers don’t know where to point the camera.

The other day I saw a crazy post on my Facebook page that immediately grabbed my attention. The post had a picture of two ladies protesting milk while standing in front of the milk cooler at the grocery store Trader Joe’s.

“Man, I just need 11 dollars. I lost my bus ticket and I need to get home to see my family. Must have fell out of my pocket, you know? I just need 11 dollars, man.” He shifted on his feet as he pleaded. He made a show of impatiently looking back toward the ticket counter.

Have you ever wondered why the Olympic games are held in huge cities around the globe but never in McCool Junction, Nebraska, or Gillies Corners, Ontario?

I was sitting in a room full of dairy farmers recently, fidgeting in my dress slacks as the meeting was about to begin. There was lots of chatter about who was from what area, how many cows each of us milked and of course the weather.

Inspire. That was the theme of the 2016 PDPW (Professional Dairy Producers of Wisconsin) Business Conference held recently in Madison, Wisconsin. Throughout the two-day event, I was inspired with ideas that I can use on my farm, in my classroom and in life. My inspiration actually started the day before the conference.