Bright spots in a tough farming year
Mating is done and dusted, the bulls have left the farm and the Christmas tree is up. All of these things are a clear indication that 2020 is nearly out the door and, to be honest, the end cannot come quickly enough.
Things on farm are pretty good; the rainfall has been OK so the mix of heat and moisture has served us well so far for grass cover.
The cows are milking well and are in great condition, so we are feeling a bit more confident going into the summer months than we did this time last year, but that could all change in the blink of an eye.
We have plenty of feed on hand in the event we turn to a crisp like we did last summer and our crop of chicory has all just about had its first grazing and is coming away again exceptionally well.
Geoff is spending quite a lot of time up north with the contracting gear so between the relief milker, our landowner’s grandson and me milking, everything keeps ticking over nicely in Waikato, as long as I follow the grazing plan the boss man (Geoff) leaves for me.
It is also the time of year when, if you are moving farms or looking to go to the next rung on the dairy industry ladder, contracts will be being signed and all the hopes and promises will be flung around by both parties like fairy dust.
There is merit in using caution when entering into new situations, especially getting anything in writing that is verbally agreed to but isn’t in the contract.
It’s too soon to be talking about taking photos, but I will be reminding you of this in May next year, for when you exit your old job and enter the new property/house at the beginning of the new season.
Trust me, there is always that farm owner who thinks they gave you the Taj Mahal to live in, and then accuses you of having turned it into a sub-standard excuse for a home when you leave.
Of course, there are employees who have turned the Taj Mahal they were given to live in into a ransacked shambles, so the photos for both sides of this coin are extremely important.
One of the highlights this year was deciding to get out of the dairy industry at the end of this season, once and for all. We have run out of crayons in our colouring in box for explaining things to people who don’t understand.
We have had some pretty exciting times in the 14 years Geoff and I have been farming together, but it’s time for a change.
The biggest highlight was our early Christmas Day spent with all but one of our 12 grandchildren. It has been like herding cats getting them all together from between O¯ torohanga and Northland, and I can only thank all of their parents for doing their absolute best to make it happen.
It’s the only thing this Farm Nana asks for Christmas every year – just one day with all the grandchildren together – and this year I got my wish.
We have had a huge year mending a metaphorical bridge with a couple within our family unit, and it has been a great reward to have the lines of communication open again, to have less tension and even enjoy quite a few laughs, and yes, a few wines.
Going into these summer months there is a focus on the weed spraying, grubbing the plate thistles, and the odd ragwort around the place, although having to wait for the three-point linkage to turn up for the tractor isn’t helping with the delay of boom spraying.
The parts are probably sitting in the Hauraki Gulf on a container ship with the baby dolls I ordered for some of the younger granddaughters, so the small spray tank on the quad will have to do until it arrives.
Remember going into the festive season that everyone is dealing with something, so a smile can go a long way, even a random conversation in the supermarket aisle could make someone’s day.
Communication is key to any difficult situation, so speak up, tell the truth and keep trying, and remember, bad communication can ruin a good thing.
Merry Christmas to yours from mine. May you create more memories with the ones you love and care for and stay safe on the roads, even just nipping down to the dairy.
Louise Giltrap is now a sharemilker in Waikato.