The next step

Wow, we did it. We took the first step into a new chapter of our lives. It was a bold step, taken tentatively and tenderly. We are not sure where this road is heading, but at least we are still all family as we move forward.

Last Friday, we hosted the Families Built on Faith Sale as the final chapter we will write for Ralma Holsteins. The dust is starting to settle as the barn becomes empty. Barren stalls are bedded with scattered straw. Remnants of dry shavings and lime line the walkway. Feed mangers are licked clean. The cats now have a wide choice of snuggle spots without the chance of being flattened.

It is almost deja vu, except this time we know we won’t be starting back up in the spring. I think because we went through a sale five years ago, this feels familiar even if it is very final. We kept back some younger cattle to breed and sell next year because we still want to work with animals in some way. We have the facilities. We have the feed. We have the time, so why not? We just quit milking, not farming.

It was quite a day, though. Perfect fall weather welcomed neighbors, friends and buyers as they filled the circus tent outside our barn door. For the past week, the fitting crew and family have been prepping, clipping and cleaning every animal and inch of the farm, preparing for this day. It may take us a few days to find all the things we hid out of sight, but we have some extra time during the day now to have a scavenger hunt.

These past few weeks leading up to the sale, some might think we were receiving signs of being on the right path, a confirmation of our decision to sell the cows. It seems like the most unlikely things were breaking. The unloading auger in the Harvestor decided to snap off again earlier in the month. Luckily the neighbors were able to take out a load of high-moisture corn for us to feed off a grain wagon. It meant pouring pails of heavy corn into the roller mill by hand to be carried away to the mixer. I don’t think the guys are sorry to see that job disappear with the cattle.

Fortunately for us, on Monday morning of sale week, a line to a water cup snapped and the barn flooded overnight. I say we were fortunate that it happened then instead of on sale day. Now that would have been a big mess. Mark and Austin both had a bad feeling that something like that might happen.

Mark had been keeping a close eye on potential problems. It’s not like he was looking for trouble. He has preventative sight. Others might call it being proactive instead of reactive. This is a good thing, but you have to be careful not to always focus on what can go wrong. Sometimes you have to notice what goes right and be thankful, like when a rung in the silo chute breaks as you’re climbing up but you can catch yourself before you fall too far.

We are going to have to shift our focus. We have always focused on the daily needs of the cows, their care and feeding. Now what do we focus on? Selling the cows didn’t answer all our questions; it just created new ones.

With the extra time in the evening, I hope we can have a movie night without falling asleep. I really want to see the next Downton Abby movie. I saw a promo about the series, and it struck very close to home for me.

In Downton Abby, the first generation builds, the second generation preserves their father’s legacy and ways and the third generation changes by either building up on the father’s legacy or going in a different direction because of changing times, technology and markets. Even though the story takes place over 100 years ago, from the 1800s to the early 1900s, the changing times feel very familiar and relatable. It’s as if they wrote the story about our lives on the farm as we head into the future.

I don’t know what the hardest adjustment is: an empty barn or an empty house. Every bed in the house was full of family and friends. Sweets and treats were spread across the kitchen. The refrigerator was packed full. Laughter and tight hugs filled the space.

As we keep taking tender steps forward, we can’t think about it being the last cow to milk, the last heifers to leave. It has to be just work as usual to keep moving forward. I can say that I did come up with a name for the last Ralma calf born on our farm.  Her dam is Skittles, and our last calf is called Skedaddle. This brings a smile to my face and a silent tear to my eye.

What is it going to be like on the other side of dairying? I don’t know yet, but the Dairy Star is giving me the chance to continue thinking out loud from outside the barn. There are so many thoughts and ideas swirling around in my head that I want to explore and share. I guess this will be one of my next steps forward.

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.