Hello. You wandered in.
[I’m so glad you’re here]
So, is this the part where I introduce myself? Alright, here goes…
Short Cut: City girl meets farm boy. Asks no less than 7 million questions. Has first date on a tractor. Says “yes” atop a Ferris Wheel. Passes farm wife bar exam. Sprouts 2 mini-farmers. Creates. Finds true joy in life.
Scenic Route: So the story goes that round about the ripe ‘ole age of 5, I embarked on a camping adventure with the grandparents, and complained about the origin of stink as we traveled to camp. My farm-friendly grandparents laughed and gave me a brief rundown of the chicken-to-chicken nuggets campaign. I have been told I responded in a not so pleasant way. But, enough with that.
Fast forward 18 years.
Who am I walking down the aisle to? Yep, a Farmer. And? Poultry was in the home brew. (Insert grandparents laughter again.) As a newly initiated farm wife, I quickly realized my deficit and began asking an average of 862 questions a day (conservative guesstimate, ask the farmer). Questions eventually led to answers, or at least more questions, and before calving season came around again, I passed the farm wife bar exam. I began operating around the farm comparable to any other farm 7-year-old. Hey, learning curve here, people! Unfortunately, my 7-year-old skills are relegated to evenings and weekend, since I do have a day job. But, no pity please. Let’s get back to why you’re here, shall we?
You want to know why I think agriculture is worth writing a blog about.
Because, you see, I’ve seen both sides. The city kid side and the farmer’s wife side.
Now, I’m not advocating for you to jet your boss an email about a 2 week notice while simultaneously paying the “buy it now” price for a cow and 2 chickens on eBay. (Seriously, don’t do that.) What I am asking for is a little thought about the food that enters your mouth, clothes that grace your closets, and the daily commodities you take for granted. So here’s to a little knowledge and common sense about a distinctly human topic.
This story really isn’t a story unless there is a reader. (That’s where you come in!) I’d love to get to you know you, yes you, the one who wandered in this crazy intergalactic web space. Shoot me an email or find me on Twitter and Instagram. Chick me out! (Poultry farmer pun certainly intended.)
lauren DOT arbogast AT gmail DOT com