Thankful for the Farmer’s Life Lessons

Well, hello. 

It's been awhile since I've posted a blog - over a year in fact. Life has been full with a toddler, great job, friends, family and a slew of other activities and opportunities. This time of year I am always called to post or say something as we approach Thanksgiving and the anniversary of my dad's calling to heaven. My sister, Sarah, and I keep his spirit alive by writing about him and agriculture for our hometown newspaper. Below is our article published earlier this month. We hope you enjoy and remember some of Tim's life lessons as you give thanks for your friends and family around you and all this life has to offer.

Happy Thanksgiving. 

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November is upon us and it’s always tradition to reflect and give thanks during this month. However, for some of us it’s a difficult month. Our families are trying to finish harvest before the cold weather turns colder and the unpredictable weather sends snow too early. For us, the month is difficult because we lost our farmer, our dad, during this month. It was the day after Thanksgiving nine years ago on a crisp, fall night when the stars were shining high in the sky across our countryside.

Every year during this month we reflect on his passing in some way or another. This year we have decided to share some life lessons from our farmer with you - nine of of them in fact. Trust us, we could probably share 99 life lessons but will spare you the western movie lines and quotes on the way things used to be or should be. For now, we will stick with the spoken and unspoken life lessons from the farmer for you to reflect on this month. We hope you give thanks for the people in your life, here on earth or up above, and the life lessons they taught you. 

There’s No Burnin’ Daylight: Dad was a believer in this phrase and lived it. He got up before the sun and didn’t rest his head until it had set behind the horizon. Neither of us were early risers so we heard this phrase every morning when he woke us up for school. It’s pretty self-explanatory though. You were given a life and time is so short, so use it - don’t burn the daylight you were given. 

Work Hard, Play Hard: This is a common life lesson but one that some have forgotten. If you work hard enough, you can play and enjoy life to the fullest. Dad never really told us this but again, he preached through example. 

Everything is Overrated: If you heard this once from Tim Thomas, you heard it hundreds of times. This might have been his favorite phrase to use because he lived in a house full of girls who thought too much and talked a lot. It’s human nature to over analyze and to gravitate to the bright and shiny object or idea. However, living a simple life might be the highest rated attraction people seek to achieve these days. 

Be An Example: Dad wasn’t always a big talker but his actions spoke louder than words. On our way to church on a snowy Sunday, he pulled a stranger from a ditch without even a thought. When he was finished, he got back in the truck and off we went to church - no discussion really. Being a good samaritan and living a life of example doesn’t take a whole lot of words or rhetoric. 

Pull the Reins Back: When Katie was little, she was riding one of our family’s horses as dad walked alongside. The horse got spooked and took off, sprinting to a hill and the road. Dad chased behind her saying over and over, “Pull the reins back! Pull the reins back!” While at the time it was for the safety of her physical well-being, the quote is also a reminder to “slow down” for our mental well-being. This is something we constantly have to remind ourselves to do, and when we do we are thankful. When you pull the reins back, you get to be more present and notice what’s behind you, in front of you and beside you before it all passes by too quickly. 

Get Some Fresh Air: If we were sitting in the living room while dad popped in to check on what was going on, you better believe he would encourage us to go outside. He would prop his arm against the door frame and lean on it like a cowboy leans on a fence and say, “Why don’t you go run some laps around the house. Get some fresh air.” Not being inclined to run around the house (especially Katie), we would just say “I’m tired.” In our older age we have realized that some fresh air does a body good - you feel better, you sleep better and you breathe better. And by gosh, you get to enjoy God’s portraits in the great outdoors. 

Be Kind: Just be nice. It’s not hard. 

Nap on Sundays: In our busy lives and rushed world, it’s easy to get tired and complacent. We’ve forgotten to just a take a moment to breath and reflect. Dad never said he was going to sit in the quiet, read the Sunday paper and take a nap - he just did. God made a day of rest for a reason - utilize it. 

Eat Oreos: Some people twisted, we dipped. Sitting with dad with a big ole glass of milk, reaching for that black and white cookie in the jar and making the perfect dip for the perfect soggy (but yet crunchy) oreo - that was a tradition to be thankful for. Sarah and dad really had a thing for the oreos. Thanks to mom for buying them and letting us eat them late at night. When we moved out, mom stopped buying oreos and put rice in the oreo jar. She soon learned that was a big mistake and heard a thing or two about it. The jar now sits empty and it’s been awhile since we’ve enjoyed this tradition around the kitchen table. Maybe this year we will eat some late night oreos after our Thanksgiving leftovers as we give thanks for our farmer and reflect on the next life lessons to share with you. 

Stewards of the Land

The article below was published by our local newspaper, The Republic, in the monthly publication, Farm Indiana.  I am lucky to have the opportunity to write for the paper and share stories of our life on the farm.  This time the author did a wonderful job capturing our family and the long tradition of farming which I hope continues for generations to come.

Stewards of the Land

Trevor and Brett Glick find seeds of opportunity in diverse operations

By Barney Quick
Photos by April Knox

Two brothers in eastern Bartholomew County embody a formula for success based on diversification, strategic savvy, respect for legacy and gratitude for opportunity. They do so on land that has been in the family name since 1854.

Brothers Trevor, 37, and Brett, 35, have four activities that comprise their operation: commercial row-crop production, a seed company, beef production, and distillery grain production. They see growth potential in each, depending on trends and economic forces in the world in general.

Each went to Columbus East High School and then earned an agricultural economics bachelor’s degree from Purdue University. As is often the case in Midwestern farm families, farming got in their blood early on and was regarded as a way of life.

“We feel blessed to be able to farm,” says Trevor. “It’s not the kind of profession people generally get into without coming from a family that does it. That can be done, but it’s more challenging than being born into it. We see ourselves as stewards of what’s here for the next generation.”

There are a lot more Glicks in Bartholomew County, comprising three main branches that can trace a common ancestry in Pennsylvania. The brothers have cousins nearby who also run a seed company.

“We don’t really compete,” says Trevor. “That’s the charm of this area in general. The farmers have a strong sense of community. You don’t see the inclination to undercut each other that you do in some places.”

Both the commercial row crops (corn, wheat, soybeans) and the seed business are driven by meeting precise needs of customers.

“We have opportunities to license different genetics and traits and select corn and wheat varieties for unique characteristics for the soil in southeast Indiana and northern Kentucky, which is our customer base,” says Trevor.

Their corn is non-genetically modified. It’s sold through a broker. Some goes to the distiller market and some is exported. Japan and South Korea are two destinations for Glick corn.

The current iteration of the seed business has its roots in Glick Seed Service, founded by the brothers’ great-grandfather, Lloyd. His son, Lynn, founded Lynn and Myron Glick Seed Co. with his son, Myron, the brothers’ father. Myron passed away in 2005, and the brothers purchased his interest and later their grandfather’s too. The acronym version, L&M Glick, is the current name.

While consolidation in the seed industry has diminished the number of local companies, it’s been important to the Glicks to remain independent.

 “We get to choose what we provide to our customers,” says Brett.

Their beef operation currently consists of feeder calves. They are born in February, weaned in September and sold when they reach the 500- to 600-pound range. The customers finish the calves for another year. The calves aren’t pure bred, but, once again, attention to genetics is a top priority.

“We breed them for a calm disposition,” says Brett. “They’re easier to manage, and they stay fleshy with less food than less calm cows would. We’ll keep a heifer with good genetics up to 15 years.”

Adds Trevor, “We keep precise records on breeding, birthing, weaning and their weight when we sell them.”

For several years, they had a business called Brothers Beef that was a direct-sales operation. They ran a booth at the Saturday farmers market in downtown Columbus, but, according to Brett, it became a choice between that and “Trevor going to his kids’ soccer games.”

The distilled grains component of the Glick operation came about when the Spagnuolo family, owners of Bear Wallow Distillery in Brown County, approached the brothers.

“They said, ‘Hey, you know how to clean grain, and we want to work with someone locally,’” says Trevor.

That led to supplying other distillers with custom grain cleaning and a partnership with a rye importing business.

Strategic planning is an ongoing part of their activity. Five years ago, they conducted a major SWOT (strengths, opportunities, weaknesses, threats) analysis. Brett maps out a budget on a monthly basis.

He grants that it doesn’t come as naturally as the more hands-on aspects of what needs to be done: “I’d rather be out bush-hogging or cleaning fence rows, but you have to know your route for where you’re going. You have to take your eyes off the scenery and look down at the map.”

They play to their strengths. Brett handles the financial analysis, and Trevor does a lot of the customer relations work.

Lynn can be seen strolling the premises on most days, which shouldn’t be surprising, given that the brothers’ office and the equipment storage building are across the lawn from his house.

“Grandpa is our parts retrieval specialist,” says Brett.

They send him on missions to nearby equipment dealerships when something breaks down. Lynn notes that it gives him the opportunity to eat at restaurants in Seymour or Greensburg.

Brett and his wife, Katie, have one daughter, Mae. Trevor and his wife, Kelly, have three children, Sophie, Ethan and Eli. Brett says that their wives are “very supportive of our business but not directly involved.”

Their mother, Marybeth, lives in a house adjacent to the farming property. After raising her children (and occasionally helping with tasks like tractor driving), she worked at Cummins, from which she retired. She now helps with 4-H projects for one of her granddaughters, the child of the brothers’ sister, Lisa.

What is it like to live one’s entire life on one piece of ground and see the same faces daily in one’s professional life in an age when mobility is the norm for so much of society?

“There’s definitely something very valuable about being grounded,” says Brett. “We do travel and have social lives, but we hold that connection to the past in high regard. There’s a particular shovel I really like to use. It has a worn handle and probably isn’t as efficient as one I could go buy at Rural King, but I am putting history to use.”

Let Them Eat Grass

I have often wondered how everything we digest - physically, mentally and emotionally - really affects us.  After my 31 years of life I think most of it impacts us in some way, and now that I have a child of my own I am more certain of it. 

This spring, Mae and I were enjoying an evening outside listening to the tractor hum in the distance and watching the cows as the sun set behind the farm in the distance.  I sat little Miss Mae on the ground for a few photos where she smiled brightly and enjoyed the scenes and sounds around her.  Then I looked away to say a little prayer of thanksgiving and for the safety of our farmer while I stared at God’s portrait in the sky.  I turned back around (seriously 10 seconds later) and she was putting a handful of grass in her mouth!  Now granted, I should have known that she would have found something to grab and stick in her mouth as that is pretty standard operating procedure for our little girl.  My eyes widened as I said “no, no” but then realized it was just grass and I’m sure she has ingested much worse when she crawls around the kitchen floor where her dad’s boots sit after a day a long day’s work on the farm.  At the moment I was a little fearful of what may come out the other end, but honestly I forgot about it an hour later and guess what – she was fine.

I know parents that hover – you know like a helicopter – and have pacifier wipes and try to finish their kids’ puzzles, sentences and thoughts.  What happened to letting them figure it out on their own?  Their little brains are trying to figure out the world and digest all these new things including how we react and what we do or don’t do for them.  

Mary Poppins always said “a spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down” and I think she’s right but there are lots of different flavors of sugar in this life.  I believe it’s okay to spoil our children to an extent and let them eat a little sweet sugar.  However, I also believe we shouldn’t spoon feed it to them – they need to feed themselves.  Honestly, giving and doing everything for them doesn’t help them at all.  

Eating rocks or grass - whatever your little heart desires.

I’ve told my daughter that she is beautiful to me and loved by me, is amazing to me, seems very smart to me and is important to me – not by everyone else and not the world.  If I told her the world thought she was beautiful, loved, amazing, smart and important then why would she try to develop herself and make the world a better place than how she found it?  

It’s a hard dose of tart sugar to take – one taken with a wooden spoon that has been frayed with years of use – but one that we all need to be reminded of.

After celebrating my first Mother’s Day I have recommitted to raising a thoughtful, independent, selfless child.  So let’s put down the sugar and stop telling the kids “no, no” or “you are so important”.  Let’s let them finish their own thoughts or fail their research paper because they didn’t invest the time or spell check (my mother reminded me to double check my papers but didn’t do it for me).  Let them eat the grass, dirt, rocks, ladybugs or small cow manure particles (don’t judge) – whatever may be on your kitchen floor – and experience what comes out the other end.  They will learn and become a better decision maker and citizen of their community and the world in the future.  

Hold Them & Show Them

With the news today and the issues in our community and country it’s no wonder that many parents go to sleep at night thinking of their children’s safety and future – some of us may even hold on too tight or too long that we don’t even make it to our own beds before we fall asleep.

However, there is a lesson to be learned from letting go and letting them learn as they navigate through this world and this life.

I attended a breakfast with one of our elected officials last year on the campaign trail while he was home from D.C.  We were talking about differences in cities and towns around the state and the vast differences in our own communities.  He said something that has stayed with me and I think of often – we built secluded neighborhoods where the houses looked similar and the families led similar lives.  We stopped living next to and learning from people who are different than ourselves therefore making us more secluded from an array of diverse people, backgrounds, issues and opinions.  

I am fully under the belief that creating deep roots for a child only helps them in developing who they are and who they will become.  However, some parents don’t let their child’s roots grow beyond a seedling that may never grow to see beyond the ground they are standing on.

Creating deep roots for a child to learn about their heritage and where they come from doesn’t need to take away their ability to grow wings, learn from someone different than themselves and flourish.  I was raised to appreciate my family’s history and hard work and to always remember where I came from when I got to where I was going.  However, I was told to learn and appreciate from others – no matter how different – while I was developing myself and working hard in my career.  

I feel very fortunate that I live in a community that exposes me to different cultures and am excited to raise my daughter in a community that embraces diversity.  While we have plans to travel with our children around the world and teach them about different cultures, we are also excited to come home to the cows and corn fields.  People think it’s crazy when I tell them we want to travel (especially with our kids) and immerse ourselves in different cultures, but we learn so much about ourselves and others when we do.  I hope you embrace where you come from but seek to learn what else is out there beyond the ground you are standing on.  

Our daughter may not want to travel and see the world like we do – she may be perfectly happy with her deep roots on the farm.  But at least she will have been given the opportunity to make that decision and understand how others think, work and live.  I would rather hold her tight while I show her the world rather than hold her tight and keep her from it.  

Send Them Outside

We were walking through the freshly painted walls that were already soaked with that poignant  smell of pigs when she learned something new about her kids and their childhood.  As my sister and I watched the sows deliver piglets at the new Fair Oaks Farms Pig Adventure a few years ago, we reminisced about adventures on our family farm and with our dad.  “Remember when dad made us scoop up the stalls after the baby pigs were born?” I said. Before my sister could even respond my mom exclaimed, “he made you do what?!”  Since his passing she has learned a few things we did with dad that she was unaware of at the time. 

Even though I might have protested at the time, I’m glad he made us clean and scoop manure and more from the stalls.  I’m glad he made us stand with the piglets while he gave them their vaccinations (that screaming still rings in my ears when I think about it).  I’m happy he walked us through the woods to show us all the creeks and hollers so we could create our own adventures when he kicked us out of the house.  I’m proud of my childhood and all the blood, sweat and tears of playing and working outside - it made me a stronger and more capable woman.

I’ve had multiple conversations lately about how kids don’t go outside enough and they are too hooked to their screens.  “When I was their age, I was outside, doing chores and working!” - that’s the standard quote these days.  As a new parent I have thought a lot about this a lot.  Mae is about to crawl and she is curious about everything around her.  I don’t hand her the toys or her pacifier, if she wants it she can get it.  When I’m in the car, I talk to her about what she is seeing through the windows and what is going on in the world around her - I am not focused on my own thoughts or phone.  I’m trying to teach her, even at a young age, that it’s not all about her and what’s on the screen isn’t as important as learning about others and discovering and improving herself.

It’s funny that we get mad at our kids and the younger generation about being lazy and selfish, but didn’t we buy their phones and create their participation trophies?  They don’t have the money to buy the phone and didn’t create the trophies - we did. 

So send the kids outside this spring.  Take away the phone and video games you bought them and tell them to use their imagination to create their own adventures. Their moaning and groaning will only last for a short while, but their character and work ethic will be impacted for a lifetime.

Agriculture is Timeless

My sister Sarah and I are proud farmer's daughters. 

In honor of National Ag Day and our father who passed away in 2009 from a farming accident, we wrote an article for our hometown newspaper and dedicated books to local schools in his honor.

Please enjoy and always remember to thank a farmer.

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Time is such a precious commodity to each one of us, but in our busy, bustling lives we forget about the time and the precious moments it holds.  Time spent with each other in our rapidly changing lives has caused us to almost forget and remind you about this year’s National Ag Day which will be celebrated across the country on March 21.

Our article last year taught you about the women in agriculture and the critical role they play.  We have added one young lady to our farmer’s daughter trademark - Mae Louise, Katie’s daughter born last July.  She helps check the cows and reminds us to slow down and observe how precious life is and how quickly time goes by.  Sarah has spent the last several months preparing to become a farmer’s wife - another important title on the farm - and will gain the title this Saturday as we celebrate her marriage on our family farm.

Time almost got away from us with these new life changes, but we never missed a minute with regard to our decision to honor our dad, Tim Thomas, and dedicate our lives to agriculture advocacy and literacy.  This was our second year to donate agriculture books to all the elementary schools in the county so students have books about agriculture, farms, and food.  And this year we donated agriculture career resources for the middle schools, so those students know about the variety of food and agriculture related jobs.  We need these students to choose agriculture related  careers to help develop our future food supply.  They don’t have to be a farmer to be a part of agriculture.  Katie had a boss that would always comment on her Farm Bureau “No Farms, No Food” bumper sticker on her desk.  He would say “I eat so I’m a part of ag!” and he’s right!  We all are a part of the food chain and all a part of agriculture - that is a truth that time does and will not change.

While the time has passed when most children woke before dawn to do farm chores and arrive at school with manure on their boots and dirt under their fingernails, it doesn’t mean the time has passed for children to learn about where their food comes from and who produces it.  You too can encourage your children, family members and neighbors to use these resources at the schools in our county to educate themselves and become intrigued by an agriculture career.  

The way we plant, nourish, harvest, process, transport, deliver, prepare, distribute, buy, cook, and consume our food has changed over time.  However, the way it grows hasn’t changed.  The way the farmer cares for the food he grows for you and his dedication to his farm, fields, and family hasn’t changed.  Our passion for agriculture and efforts to educate you on behalf of our father will never change but only grow like the seeds he once planted on on our family farm and within us - that’s timeless.

Be Patient, Positive & Personal

I work in an office with a bunch of suits (you know what I mean), and I’ve come to embrace their questions and curiosity.  Sometimes I chuckle at their questions and sometimes I tilt my head with a questionable grin.  While I am sure my facial expressions may say differently, I have learned over the years to be patient and positive with my friends and colleagues as they try to learn and understand the world of agriculture.  Navigating through a conversation with someone about such a large topic that few of us live every day and all of us need every day is quite challenging.  

My sister and I have been talking for weeks about how we are going to honor our father for Ag Appreciation Month in March and brainstormed some great ideas that we have already put into action.  But yet I have struggled recently on how to tell my story without getting so overwhelmed with the amount of information I need to tell about life on the farm and how important agriculture is to us all.  Rattling off farm facts – how many people we feed and the stats on what and how we produce – don’t suffice for me anymore.  Those numbers disappear through the thin air and short attention spans of individuals living in the hustle and bustle of the 21^st century and are disconnected from their food source.  

Instead of numbers, I use personal touches.  I tell the blue suit about the calves that were born that morning and how it affected our morning routine – and after a chaotic morning, one of them died.  I explain to the black suit about how the weather and various trade policies affect the corn, soybean and wheat markets every day and I hear about it every night.  I tell the gray suit about my experience in 4-H and how it helped me develop life lessons that I apply to my life today – hard work, be caring, the buying and selling and losing something you have worked hard for.  And then I grieve to my secretary that the gravel driveway full of rocks and mud from my farmer’s truck are ruining my high heels which have caused a horrendous hole and run in my tights before a big meeting.  

People remember the importance and understand the need for agriculture when they know that it affects someone on a personal level.  We don’t look each other enough in the eyes anymore because we are too busy comparing our lives to someone else’s online.  So when you are patient with someone when they ask you a question, positive in your tone and personal in your response while looking in their eyes – they remember and they appreciate.  

As I finish writing this I have gotten a text from a friend in Iowa asking how many calves we’ve had and then a colleague came in to chat about the recent pig farming story he heard on NPR.  Every moment of my life involves agriculture and so does yours – appreciate it. Your patience and positive attitude about your personal agriculture story will last longer than any agriculture appreciation month.  

For the Love of the Farmer

Happy early Valentine's Day from our family to yours.  We don't really celebrate the holiday because we love and appreciate each other all year long.  However, this year Mae and I are sending a few cards and dressing up because we can and she is full of love!

Enjoy a recent article I wrote for our newspaper below and embrace your loved ones.

Time and time again I shake my head at my dirty floors and loads of laundry and then sigh.  It’s not that I feel overwhelmed with the house work or burdened by it.  My headshakes are about how my younger, detailed and tidy self would have never let this fly.  When we were first married I promised myself that we would be the farm house that was clean and put together – no cow manure on the floor, Carhartts washed at all times and a cute back porch.  Well, I got one week into that “married to a farmer” deal and realized my household goals would never be realized.

I grew up on a farm and should have known better, but my passionate and organized spirit got the best of me for awhile.  But for the love of the farm and my farmer, I gave it up.  I decided that my own fancy boots weren’t going to stay clean and that was just part of it.  And if we both had a pair of dirty boots that was more proof that we were lockstep in this path called life together. 

I recently read an article about how a woman always nagged her husband for not picking up after himself and forgetting to do things around the house.  Then one day he was gone - he had left this earth and she couldn’t nag him any longer.  As much as she hated the random socks everywhere or incomplete honey-do chores, she wasn’t going to be able to live her life with him anymore.  She made a commitment to stop nagging and worrying about the little things because they weren’t important.  Just like having dirty floors isn’t as important as the steps you take on them with the people that matter.

As we approach that February holiday of love, I hope you sacrifice something for someone else.  For the love of my farmer, I plan on overlooking that wretched smelling hat, holey socks, dirty floors and time with him so he can work the land he loves – we love.

I also hope you take a moment to realize the sacrifices farmers make for you – their time away from their families, physical tolls they endure and risks they take on multiple levels.  For the love of the farmer and the food on your table, say thank you to the next one you see at the store, church, market or ballgame.

This Valentine’s I hope I come home to mud and manure soaked Carhartts still attached to the boots on my dirty back porch.  Just like last time, I’m going to walk right past them to focus on more important things like my family and our farm.

Curiosity and Understanding

We survived our first holiday season with our little girl – the first where we celebrated her life and the sparkle in her eyes when she saw the tree.  According to our daughter, “Jingle Bells” is the best song ever written and she might be one of those people that listen to Christmas music year-round (which her father will be thrilled about).

After watching her grow and develop these past six months, her curiosity is quite entertaining.  

Can you imagine how strange the world looks through a baby’s eyes?  They don’t fully understand the concept of life or death, heartbreak and heartache or the good, bad and ugly of it all.  They see shiny things and become entranced.  They slowly start to recognize you and embrace what is familiar.  But honestly, some things have to seem so strange and odd to them.

I feel that way a lot when I have conversations with people about our farm.  I’ve recently spent time with a lot of people who do not live in the country or have the slightest concept of what it is like living on a farm or working in agriculture. 

At a recent girls’ night, where I only knew a few of the women, my friend said my husband was a farmer and you would have thought I lived in 1950.  The curious looks and number of head tilts I saw were quite entertaining.  Then, while opening gifts, she told everyone that I had brought her meat from our farm, again the looks and the tilts.  One of the women looked at me with a strange glare and said, “I could never raise an animal and then send it off to market I just couldn’t.  And then eat it – never.”  Well, I can and I do.

Here’s the thing, I understand that you don’t understand and that you can’t.  But why can’t you understand that I can and that I do?  I don’t know how I’m surprised by it anymore, but it seems strange to me that people don’t understand that farmers and farming still exist and that people still live on farms.  We are just as normal as you but we have a greater fortune than you, or so I think.  We have been blessed with the opportunity to live on the land while raising a family, running a business, making a living and caring for the land for generations to come.  Farming is a huge responsibility that we don’t take lightly and that others would find to be a burden.

And yes, we get upset when our favorite animals pass away or go to market.  But we understand that life and death, heartbreak and heartache and the good, bad and ugly of farming are part of it.  I appreciate your curiosity and encourage you to have a conversation with me or another farmer.  I almost feel relieved when people ask me questions because they do genuinely want to know about our farm.

My daughter’s eyes sparkle when she sees the cows and she becomes entranced with their sounds and movement – I hope it stays that way.  She will recognize that we care for the cattle on our farm but that they are a part of our business.  She will also become familiar with the smell of cow manure and embrace it.  My daughter will understand that chocolate milk doesn’t come from brown cows and all food doesn’t come from the grocery store.  And at this rate, I’m guessing her first 4-H pig will be named Jingle Bells.  She will be given opportunities on our farm and off the farm, and whichever path she chooses I hope she stays curious and seeks to understand others while educating them about our way of life on the farm.  In the new year, I hope you genuinely become curious and understanding of what you don’t know and then maybe the world won’t look so strange.