Another Christmas, another disappointment. Every year I ask for a John Deere 7800. Given today's new prices, it’s a pretty reasonable request – a little smaller, pre DEF. I’ve been a good boy.

Most farmers learned how to drive at the age of 13 on a tractor or truck in the middle of the field. Yet, if you’ve followed any farmer meandering through county roads before, you may have wondered if that person driving is having a medical emergency or partook in a few too many barley sodas at the local watering hole.

It’s currently corn harvest season over here, and I’m contemplating the typical American farmer diet. It seems like the diet of most silage truck drivers is six hours of sleep, the finest offerings from the local gas station deep fryer, a couple Mountain Dews and a pack of lung darts to stave off the boredom.

It was about 10 years ago when our local young cooperators group from Darigold had the opportunity to visit the corporate headquarters of Starbucks.

There is something humbling about depending on forces outside of your control to make a living in farming.

Life in the dairy world hasn’t been fun. 

I’m not a hunter. I prefer eating beef; it tastes better and it is a little easier to hunt.

There are a few things that cause a dairy farmer’s heart to jump into their throats: watching someone drop a bottle of Draxxin in slow motion, having your daughter's new boyfriend ask for a beyond meat burger at the family BBQ, and seeing the milk inspector's car come down the driveway.