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.

***

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.  

When They Go

This farm wife and working mom has been getting used to our new schedule and evenings without her husband.  I rush all day long to get things marked off my to do list, and when I get home I just want to spend time feeding my child, reading to her and playing.  She is growing up too fast so my spare moments are spent with her, not the blog.  So the post below is my recent Farm Indiana article and hopefully when the farmer is finished with harvest I'll have a little more time to write.  

Happy Fall!

***

They go to the farm on a daily basis not ever really knowing what that day may bring.  And we as farm wives see them off never knowing when they will come home.  Farmers leave at all hours of the day and night for various reasons.  I’m currently experiencing early morning goodbyes and the late night hellos, and sometimes a repeat of the same greetings late at night when he runs to check on the grain dryer. 

Miss Mae watching harvest from our backyard.

However, sometimes when they say goodbye they don’t return.  My mom experienced that the day we lost my dad on the farm.  And I hope and pray that I never have to endure that heartache as she has.  I try to be fully bright-eyed and busy tailed when he leaves in the morning to kiss and say goodbye.  And then I try to be at home waiting his return with a smile and sometimes a hot meal. 

When we were first married, he left in the morning a few times without saying goodbye or giving me a morning kiss and I was devastated.  Let’s be honest, I was probably a little more dramatic than I needed to be but I could not start my day without that goodbye or that kiss.  In the back of my mind, I am always prepared for it to be our last.

Before the farmer goes to the farm to work the land that he loves and the animals that he cares for, he has to prepare for his day.  First up, a check of the weather—always.  Next, he makes some morning coffee and maybe some eggs if there is time because you know, there is no burning daylight so a few extra minutes of sleep might have cost him his breakfast.  And he now knows he can’t skip the last portion of his morning routine—the goodbye.

Before the farmer goes to the farm to collect dirt and cow manure that will end up in my washer, I say a prayer that he and all the farmers will be safe as they work so passionately in the early morning fog until well after sunset.  I embrace my dirty kitchen floors and loads of never ending laundry because if the floors were clean and the laundry was done, he would have only left and never come home. 

Sometimes when the farmer leaves now, it’s to take a walk with our baby girl to introduce her to the cows and watch the Indiana sunsets (and to give me a moment of peace and quiet).  And while they are gone, I pray that she learns about the goodbyes and hellos of life and that sometimes they are really hard but they make us stronger and more prepared for the next greetings.

No matter how the farmers may leave us or when God decides to take them, when they go there is always a lesson to be learned.  Dad always said, “There’s no burnin’ daylight”.  And my farmer always says, “It will be okay”.  So I guess I’ll survive the early morning goodbyes and pray for the late night hellos.  I know that he's always working through the daylight and he will be okay and come home at night well after God's paintings have faded into the dark sky to become stars.

The view from our upstairs window--golden corn and God's painting.  

(Don't judge my dirty window!)

Why Are We Going This Way?

I really should know better than to ask that question.  Growing up with a dad who was a farmer and now being married to one, you just know that sometimes you are along for the ride.  And sometimes they are the best rides.

  

We were coming home recently from the lake and he turned a different way, well a new way that I had never been.  “Why are we going this way?” I asked.  And I got the classic farmer answer, “I want to check some fields.”  “Great,” I thought, another road for me to learn in this county that I’m still getting used to.

 Much of what you learn growing up on a farm are from things you observe.  Growing up, I would patiently wait in the back seat or next to my dad in the truck.  One thing I learned pretty quickly is that he could drive on the road without actually watching the road!  It was as if he had eyes on the sides of his head as he looked out the windows to check each row of corn and soybeans growing in the fields.  When I first started to notice this, I was scared.  But then I realize that it’s just part of it, we were safe, it is just part of the farmer way of life and something they do. 

The second thing I learned was not to ask where we were going.  He was going to get us home or to our destination even if it took a little longer which I learned was okay.  We got to explore new ways of getting somewhere; we learned new things along the way about the history of our county or the family that once farmed the land.  Our parents never let us have a TV in the car and we rarely read or played games, we looked out the window at the fields or roads or towns along our drive and explored the world on a different path each time.

 The third lesson I learned from these unexpected drives was to listen.  Once you get farmers in their element or on a topic they know, you learn a lot.  I basically learned much of what I know about farming, the crops we grow, weed and pest control, the markets, the weather and the land I love by listening to my dad on these drives.  And now I’ve continued that tradition with my husband.

I’m not one to question God about the way things are going or the path he has set forth before me.  So I’m not sure why I asked the farmer because I am certain he was taking us along a path that would lead us to where we were going, we would get there safely and 

I would even learn a thing or two along the way. 

With today’s ever present questions of “why this way?” and “why that way?” about so many topics and issues, I feel pretty lucky to know why I am going a certain way and down a certain path.  And even if I don’t, I know everything will be okay when we get there.  I hope you have that confidence or luck and if not, maybe you should take a drive with a farmer.  

Calm in the Storm

It's been raining a lot lately on our farm, too much.

The days of sunny skies that bring dry weather to soak up the moisture 

in the fields have been few and far between.
(But this week has been great and with a few long nights, we are finished planting!)

I came home one night to my farmer who I knew was stressed but didn't show it.

"Let's go check some fields and cows," he said.

I obliged, didn't change out of my dress and hopped my pregnant self in the truck.

I love checking cows with my husband.  

It seems so natural to him to stand in an open pasture with the cattle.

I love standing in the pasture too, but they don't seem to like me as much as they like him.

I get these stares quite frequently when I'm with the cattle.  

Maybe they know I'm not the one that feeds them.

As he continued to walk through the pasture, I just starred at him and watched the cattle follow him calmly.  Everything was so peaceful even though a storm had just come and gone and another one was about to arrive.

I looked away for a few minutes and all of a sudden, I seemed to lose him.

But he was there.....in the middle of the cattle acting cool, calm and collected just as he always does.

I, on the other hand, was standing near the bull who wasn't really pleased with me.

While I did and always stay calm with the cattle, I felt like the bull this time.

The one that can cause havoc and disrupt the peace.

Pregnancy has made me realize how much I love and appreciate my husband.

While I may be the bull in the china shop with sudden bursts of emotions and tears, he is the calm in the storm.  

When I yell, "honey, I'm pregnant!  Look at me!"

He responds with his calm demeanor, "yep, there's a baby in there."

He's the one with the steady hand that deals with my crazy requests, 

my constant need for cuddling and pregnancy shopping habits.

I talk too much and disrupt his peace, but after all of that he still loves me.

I've pretty much accepted that I am like the bull and can hang with him as we try to keep our emotions intact.

And when we do cause a storm, the peaceful cows and my calm husband will be around to bring us back to reality and remind us to chill out.

Even my husband's steady, calm hand can soothe our baby and she's not even here yet.

Maybe they both will be the calm in my storm....let's just hope!

Farmer Optimism

It’s a tough road at times, this life we live and the work we do.  But there is always something to be positive about and grateful for, even in the darkest of days.  I recently read that they say a farmer has to be an optimist or he wouldn’t still be a farmer, and it’s absolutely true.

As a farmer’s daughter and farmer’s wife, I’ve been a part of a lot of optimistic rituals in my life—praying, positive attitude, rain dances hard life lessons and more praying. 

In the 1990s, I was devastated when we sold all of our pigs.  The market was bad and we had to invest and concentrate on other areas of the farm.  This was a lesson in economics at a young age, I guess you could say which has helped me in my adult life.

In the flood of 2008, when I watched my dad look out over our flooded fields I thought all hope was gone.  Then he took us home and said, “Mother Nature is not very kind sometimes, but there isn’t anything we can do about it.  It’s just part of it.  We are safe up here on the hill with good people, food and beer.  We will figure it out.”

In 2009, my dad died during harvest and my family still had to go on.  The local family farmers brought optimism back to our farm as they arrived with their trucks to fill up loads of grain to take to market.  That dark day turned out to be okay, even without him.    

In the drought of 2012, I experienced heartbreak on a daily basis when no rain would fall or heat lightening gave me false hope for a storm that I would have gladly welcomed.  I asked my husband if he wanted to do rain dances like I used to do when I was a kid.  I got “the look” if you know what I mean, but I danced a lot when he wasn’t watching.

And today, it’s the commodity markets.  Prices are down, inputs are high, there are too many regulatory and trade issues that farmers are dealing with, and it’s all a dark reality each day as we approach the planting season. 

For the farmer, planting and harvesting is inevitable.  No matter what Mother Nature will bring, how the markets will pan out or what obstacles God will lay before him, our farmers still have to wake up each day to face the day because there is no other way or another life they would rather live.

It’s really hard to explain to someone that doesn’t live on a farm that your daily life revolves around the ground below you, weather, market, crops, animals and the daily work around you.  It’s a constant worry and a constant blessing that I don’t take for granted because as dad would say, “it’s just part of it”.

There are so many people these days that lack optimism.  It’s not surprising with all the political rhetoric, daily negative stories on the news and more.  However, when I sit for just a moment and look around me, there is a lot to be optimistic about.  I hear the new calves bawling in the pasture behind our house—a sign of new life.  I see green, lots of green (finally!)—a sign of a new season.  And I am reminded of the positive things in my life—which bring me happiness and hope.  The optimism is there, we just have to slow down at times to see it and feel it.

I don’t know where or when I found this quote but it sits on my desk as a daily reminder, 

“The one who cultivates and lives always in the optimistic, cheerful, hopeful habit of mind and heart can never fail.”

As our farmers face a new season ahead cultivating the land and caring for the crops with little known to them about what Mother Nature may bring, how the markets will go or what the crop may look like, they will still try to find a way to remain optimistic.  They have to for their livelihoods, their families, future generations and for you.