The end is near?

“Prepare. The end of the world is coming.” We’ve heard the doomsday news cried out over the centuries. Remember 12/31/1999? Yet, we are still plugging away, and the earth is still spinning on its axis. I hope that is the case with my doomsday prediction. Based on what has been implied over the years, I figure the world will stop spinning Feb. 28 or soon thereafter once the inertia of motion stops completely. The reason? There will not be a single Schmitt home to milk cows.

There has never been a time when at least one Schmitt was in the barn milking cows. We couldn’t all be together to celebrate a whole event because someone always had to get back home at milking time. I don’t know if wisdom has finally caught up with our age, but we hope to discover that time will keep moving even if we’re not in the barn.

Ever since Michael and Rachel announced their engagement this past summer, I’ve been preparing for a Madison wedding road trip. My first call was to a former milker. Darren has helped us off and on over the years when we needed an extra hand. I remember when his parents “kicked him out” of their conversion when he said he wanted to milk cows. He was a shy 14-year-old, but his gentle demeanor made him a perfect fit to help milk our cows. He has filled in during times of sickness and injuries and has helped cover for a quick trip getaway, too. He just slips right into the routine without missing a beat. It helps that we haven’t changed the routine in the last 25 years, either. He and Anna will take good care of the cows.

We couldn’t just leave all the jobs to our two milkers. We don’t even run with a crew of two on an everyday basis. Fortunately, our neighbor, who retired from milking, can handle the machinery and feedings. If something breaks, he’ll know just who to call or even how to fix it himself. But, if we do this right, he shouldn’t need to fix anything.

This past month, with the extended cold weather, I swear everything will be fixed and in tip-top shape for our work crew because it has already been broken. We’ve replaced milk receiver probes and pumps, drilled holes in the Harvestor to replace an auger and replaced belts and sprockets on the feed conveyor. I asked Austin the other day if there was anything else that could break. He hoped not.

When I get ready to go visit my family in Illinois, I have a routine. The house has to be cleaned. Laundry done. Dishes washed. I have packed the freezer with meals and plenty of cookies to keep Mark from starving while I’m gone. I rush and rush to get things done, but why? In case something happens to me on my trip, at least it looks like I was ready. It is kind of like remembering to put on clean underwear in case you’re in an accident.

I’m trying to figure out what we can do before we leave to help out the help. Unfortunately, there aren’t quite as many jobs that can be done ahead of time. We can’t pre-mix enough feed for our time away. We can’t leave enough milk for the calves to drink at their own leisure. Of course, this is where a robotic calf feeder would be helpful. What we can do is have all the equipment greased and in tip-top condition. All the sheds and domes can have extra bedding to eliminate a job for our helpers.

Since it has only been Schmitts doing the jobs on this farm for over 90 years, I will have to get Mark and Austin to write down procedures and routines for feeding, milking and cleaning the barn. There won’t be anyone here who has grown up doing these jobs and just knows how. I have a supply of clipboards to hang in the feed room, the milk house and the old barn so everyone can “see” what to do and how to do things.

Who knows, maybe this can be the first step in a new direction for our farm, proof that the world won’t stop spinning if we’re not milking cows, a chance for a new direction. I just wish there were more clipboards hanging around with directions on how to make that work.

Now, we need to keep everyone healthy and let go of the rest. Only God is going to keep the March Madness Tournament storms at bay. Here’s to taking a leap of faith that this is just the beginning and not the end.

As their four children pursue dairy careers off the family farm, Natalie and Mark Schmitt started an adventure of milking registered Holsteins just because they like good cows on their farm north of Rice, Minnesota.