The month of May

I’ve been waiting for this month to finally arrive, anticipating the moment I could share what I learned, why the fifth month is called May.

It May have a heat warning.

It May have frost warnings.

It May have them back-to-back.

It May have rain.

It May have snow.

It May be a drought.

It May be a washout.

It May be just right.

I think another option might have been the month of Yo-Yo as temperatures swing and winds shift. We can go from stocking caps to shorts on the same day. One never knows quite what to wear. Northern winds with their final frigid gasps collide against the southern winds in an upward march. We seem to be caught between twins blowing out their birthday candles from different sides of the cake.

The shifting weather patterns have pushed us to farm a bit differently this spring. With Mark’s shoulder surgery, Austin has taken over the planting season responsibilities. He’s been having to make shifts on the fly as temperatures and conditions alter his original plans. So far, it seems to be working. There are faint lines of green showing up in the fields.

Lately, spring rain has been missing us to both the north and the south. I think those tall church steeples in Stearns County are splitting the rain clouds again. We’re kicking up dust as we walk the fields. It’s setting up to be a very dry start. Of course, where we’re dry, there are some places that are too wet. Yet somewhere in between, the farms are sitting just right. It is definitely May.

Last year, we never imagined we would have a bit of extra time every day to do something different than chores, especially in May. We would only leave the farm for an emergency parts run or restocking a seed order. The only traveling we did was back and forth in the fields. There were lots of miles traveled with no different view. This year we ventured out to a cattle sale in Arlington on a warm spring planting day. We drooled over beautiful cows. We admired the promising potential of calves. The best part of the day was catching up with friends.

It is so much fun to pick up a conversation right where you left off, be it a month or several years ago. We were talking families, cattle, past memories, cattle and future plans. Yes, we do talk a lot about cattle, but it is the favorite topic of dairymen.

We ran into a couple of travel buddies from our bus trip to the Canadian Royal Show last November. We discovered we were the “lucky” ones. Apparently those who sat in the front of the bus came home sick as a dog with a nasty bug. The guys in the back of the bus never picked up a thing.

It was nice to connect again, a casual conversation surrounded by fresh air, sawdust and pretty cattle. It felt like we were right back on our trip. The ease with which the conversation flows from laughter to seriousness is seamless. One minute we’re sharing stories to sharing questions about how to plan for the future.

One topic was money. As the auctioneer rattled off climbing bids with excitement, we started talking about the price of farming. We both remembered when bull calves were worth a clunk on the head (didn’t want to waste the cost of a bullet). Today what growers are willing to shell out for a day-old bull calf is mind boggling. I shared how excited Mark’s dad was when he took three bull calves to the St. Cloud sales barn. He came away with just enough money to add a scoop of ice cream to his piece of pie at Perkins on his way home as a reward for topping the sale.

Of course money was viewed so differently. I’m not that old, but I remember when you could buy things at a discount if you paid in cash. He brought up a story about an older farmer who lived by that philosophy to an extreme. The old farmer went down to Georgia looking to buy a tractor. I started laughing, pointing out that this would make a great country song. Here is what we came up with:

Grandpa went down to Georgia. He was looking for a tractor to buy. He was in a bind because he was way behind and he was willing to deal in cash. He pulled into the lot and said “Boy let me tell you what. I’ve got 60K in my pocket and not a penny more. I’ll take that tractor right over there and start heading ‘er home.”

(Cue the battling fiddles.)

Good luck trying to get that song out of your head for the next few days without smiling.

Today we carry just enough cash in our billfold to grab a few snacks or a tank of gas, things we don’t need to put on our credit cards. With the price of gas climbing this summer, it looks like we may have to reexamine our strategy as we venture home for more family weddings and reunions this summer. What a wonderful problem to have. It May be the start of something new.

As their four children pursue dairy careers off the family farm, Natalie and Mark Schmitt are exploring new adventures on the farm outside of the milking barn at their farm north of Rice, Minnesota.