The Idaho Rancher's Wife

The Ranch From the Wife's Perspective

10 Downsides of Rural Ranch Life. But…

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The grocery store is far away, DoorDash doesn’t come here, and apparently the cows don’t care about the weather. I still wouldn’t trade it.

I love living on a ranch.  I really do.  It’s all I’ve ever wanted.


But I’m also not going to pretend that rural life is convenient. There are some definite downsides to living in the middle of nowhere, and sometimes I think people who live in town have no idea how good they have it.


So, in the interest of full disclosure, here are ten of the downsides of rural ranch life.


1. The school bus ride is practically a road trip.  My kids don’t hop on the bus and arrive at school ten minutes later. They get on early and make a tour of rural Oneida County before eventually arriving at school. By the time they get home, I sometimes feel like I should have packed them a pillow and a travel journal.


2. The grocery store is not around the corner.  We don’t “run to the store.”  There is no such thing.  If I’m making dinner and discover I’m missing an ingredient, I have two choices: improvise or accept that dinner is going to be different than I planned. The grocery store is far enough away that forgetting a gallon of milk can turn into a full-blown expedition.  Take that back, grandma is just across the driveway, so maybe I have a grocery store after all.


3. There isn’t a gas station on every corner.  When you live in town, the gas gauge can get pretty low before you start thinking about filling up.  Out here, you pay attention or you pay up in the most humiliating call of shame for help.  There isn’t always a gas station conveniently located five minutes from wherever you happen to be. Running out of gas isn’t a minor inconvenience. It’s a really bad day.


4. DoorDash doesn’t come here.  Neither does Uber Eats.  Neither does pizza delivery.  
Neither does grocery delivery.  If we want something, we generally have to go get it ourselves. Apparently, “leave it on the porch” isn’t a universally available service.


5. Every errand requires planning.  You can’t just decide you’re going to town for one thing.  Because if you’re driving that far, you might as well get the other thing you need. And while you’re there, you should probably stop at the other store. And if you’re already there, you might as well pick up the kids’ stuff for tomorrow.  A five-minute errand can turn into half a day.


6. Your kids can’t just walk to practice.  The fist fight for practice times on the court or field leave your little league player with practices at the most inconvenient times.  Oh, its no ones fault, it just stinks.  And while you should be cooking dinner, hitting that meeting, or just getting the other babies taken care of, you are driving the long ride that you only wish you could make them walk.  You just wouldn’t see them until tomorrow.


7. Half of date night is just spent driving to the date.  He finally wants to take you out on the town, you get all dressed up and then sit in the truck for hours to get to that hot date.  In the meantime, the romance has lost its sizzle as you rehashed the weekend schedule, argued about the kids, and had a heated discussion over who let the breachy cow through sorting earlier in the day.  Good thing a hearty dinner and sweet dessert are just to fix the night, until the drive home, that is. 

 
8. Winter makes everything harder.  Winter living isn’t for the faint of heart.  A trip to town that is already inconvenient can become a real adventure when the roads are covered in snow and ice.  And unlike people who can simply decide not to leave the house because the weather is bad, ranchers still have livestock that need to be fed.  The cows don’t care what the weather forecast says.


9. You have to, sorry, GET to fix things yourself.  When you’re far away from town, you can’t always call someone and expect them to show up in twenty minutes.  Or even the same day.  You may have to wait a month for the appliance store to finally tell you that instead of sending a repairman to fix your washer, they will just reimburse you for a new one.  It’s just not convenient.  With a rancher that fixes pipe and electrical issues on the ranch, there’s no need to call an experienced, blue collar fix it man that can guarantee a repair.  But you might have to wait to get on his schedule after the cows are taken care of.  Which is never.  But hey, you saved on the bill, so it all works out in the end.


10. The wildlife isn’t always as charming as it sounds.  People love the idea of seeing wildlife when they live in the country. And I’ll admit, there is something pretty cool about looking out the window and seeing a deer in the field or watching a bald eagle circle overhead.


But rural wildlife isn’t always a Hallmark movie.  The deer you thought were beautiful five minutes ago can eat your garden. Mice are considerably less adorable when they move into your house. Skunks have no respect for personal property. Snakes have a remarkable ability to appear exactly where you don’t want them.  Then there are the coyotes, who seem to have a personal vendetta against anything you might want to keep alive.


But rural wildlife isn’t always a Hallmark movie.  The deer you thought were beautiful five minutes ago can eat your garden. Mice are considerably less adorable when they move into your house. Skunks have no respect for personal property. Snakes have a remarkable ability to appear exactly where you don’t want them.  Then there are the coyotes, who seem to have a personal vendetta against anything you might want to keep alive.


Living in the country means you get the beautiful wildlife and the wildlife that makes you grab a broom and start yelling.


But here’s the thing.  For nearly every one of these inconveniences, there is something on the other side that makes me wonder why I would ever want to trade it.  Yes, the grocery store is far away.  But so are the crowds.  Yes, my kids spend a long time on the school bus. 


But they also spend their afternoons outside, with room to roam and a ranch full of things to learn.
Yes, we have to drive for almost everything.  But when we drive home, we’re coming home to a place where our kids can work, play, ride horses, chase calves, build forts, and learn what it means to be responsible for something other than themselves.


I may wish for DoorDash but I’ll take freezer full of beef. Rural life comes with a list of inconveniences. A pretty long list, actually.  But for nearly every hard thing about living here, there is something even better on the other side.


And for us, not a single one of those inconveniences is worth giving up what we have.

Direct-to-Consumer Beef Is a Lane, Not the Highway

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Every time the beef industry finds itself in another conversation about cattle prices, meatpackers and the future of the American rancher, one solution seems to come up again and again: Why don’t consumers just buy their beef directly from ranchers?

On the surface, it makes sense and a win for both sides. Consumers get what they want straight from the producer, giving them confidence in what they are buying.  On the producer side, bypassing middle man from the feedlots to the meatpackers, ranchers could keep more of the money and have more control over where their cattle go. 

Direct-to-consumer beef is a great option, and for some producers it is a successful business model. But as someone who lives in the middle of the beef industry, I know firsthand it isn’t the simple solution it is sometimes made out to be.

Our operation, like thousands of others across the country, is a cow-calf operation. We raise calves, manage genetics, care for our rangeland and work to produce healthy cattle before weaning them and starting the cycle over again. That’s where our experience, infrastructure, labor and capital are invested.

What we aren’t set up to do is retain ownership of those calves for another year or more, background them, manage finishing rations, absorb the additional feed and weather risk, arrange slaughter dates, ensure USDA-inspected processing, handle cold storage and distribute beef to consumers. 

Instead we specialize in our part of the chain and send our beef on. That’s why feedlots exist. That’s why processors exist. The different parts of the beef industry were developed around different areas of expertise, and there is efficiency in that specialization.

Now, don’t get me wrong.  Direct-to-consumer beef absolutely has a place. It can work well for smaller or diversified operations, producers who want to vertically integrate, and niche markets such as freezer beef or grass-fed programs. For the right operation, it can be a profitable and meaningful way to connect directly with consumers.

But it isn’t a realistic alternative for the majority of cow-calf producers, and it isn’t capable of replacing the broader beef supply chain.  The average American family isn’t buying a whole beef at a time. Grocery stores and restaurants need a consistent supply of individual cuts of beef, and moving that much beef from ranches to consumers requires a much larger system. Asking every cow-calf producer to become a feedlot, processor, cold-storage facility and distributor doesn’t solve the problem. It simply moves an enormous and unnecessary amount of financial and logistical risk onto the rancher.

That doesn’t mean the current system doesn’t have problems.

The beef industry operates under a packing sector dominated by a few large companies, and decisions made by those companies have a direct effect on cattle producers. Plant closures, changes in slaughter schedules and reduced competition all have the potential to change the market a rancher is selling into.

That’s where I think the conversation needs to be.

Rather than suggesting that every rancher find a way to sell directly to consumers, we should be looking at how to create more competition within the existing system—through regional processing capacity, better price transparency, meaningful price discovery and antitrust enforcement that actually protects competition.

I don’t want to discount direct-to-consumer beef. I like knowing where my food comes from, and I understand why consumers want that connection with the people raising it. But we also have to recognize that the beef industry is made up of a lot of different operations, each filling a different role.

Direct-to-consumer beef is a lane. It just isn’t the highway.

If we want a strong American beef industry for the future, we need solutions that work not just for the rancher selling a few beef directly to families, but for the thousands of cattle producers whose job is to raise the cattle that eventually become the beef on all of our tables.

Final Range Branding: Deep Creek Cleanup

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The last range branding day of the stretch was a slower cleanup kind of day, with fewer calves left to gather and brand. After the wind the day before, the weather turned just about perfect, making for a pretty enjoyable day to be horseback.

I spent more time roping than taking pictures, so this set looks a little different than some of the others. Fewer action shots and more of the small details that make up a branding day—the hands, the gear, the dust, and the moments in between.

Not every day is fast-paced or packed full, but there’s something good about the quieter ones too.

BLM Branding Day: New Ground, Same Work

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Every Saturday of April is scheduled for our BLM association branding… for the rest of our lives. Haha! It takes that many goes to get all the calves on the ground, mothered up, and drug in to get the herd branded with the right outfit.

This year had a little different look to it, though. Because of the poorer range feed this year, we split the herd differently across the winter/spring ranges. It gives a little different look this year with new places to gather and circle up to get the job done.

The day brought a little rain, a little wind, and a lot of roping. The scenery may have been a little different, but the work is still the same.

Back at the Ranch: Lookout Livestock Branding Day

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Most branding days we’re up early and headed out for a long drive to wherever the cows are running on the desert range. But once a year, we get to stay a little closer to home—saddling up and heading straight out the gate for Lookout Livestock branding day.

This herd is relatively new to us. About seven years ago, a neighbor approached us about buying him out, and knowing opportunities like that don’t come around often, we jumped at the chance to expand right here close to home. We decided to keep things separate from our other herd, forming a new operation with its own name and brand.

Even though we’ve only been running these cows a few short years, it didn’t take long for things to fall into place, including the annual branding. We have great help, great food, which lends to a great time!

Where Gratitude Grows: A Heartfelt Thanksgiving on the Ranch

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In 1789, President George Washington declared a “Day of Publick Thanksgiving”, continuing the tradition started in 1621 when the early settlers and the Wampanoag tribe held a three day feast to celebrate the year’s fruitful harvest.  During the Civil War in 1863, President Abraham Lincoln proclaimed the fourth Thursday as a national holiday simply named Thanksgiving.  He hoped the holiday would help bridge the chasm between the north and the south.

The Thanksgiving season is steeped in history and tradition- taking time to account for the blessings brought in through a year of hard work and intentionally giving thanks to overcome the challenges this life brings.

The few weeks of the season are almost forgotten as so many skip on to the joy of Christmas.  And while the magic of a winter wonderland and the celebration of Christ’s birth is so deserving of our focus, pausing to count blessings and have an attitude of gratitude is always worth it.

In agriculture, an industry that makes it from one year to next by the grace of a higher power, we feel that gratitude deeply.  We see hardships of drought, loss of livestock, dropping market prices, and rising expenses.  But somehow we tend to have just enough rain to make it through another season, enough cattle to fill our contracts, and enough funds to keep our operations running for another year.

So I’m going to take this opportunity to point out the things I’m thankful for, especially those things in this industry that bring peace to my soul.

I am thankful for the buddy seat in our big green tractor. It allows me to come and sit with my husband when I need to chat.  It gives me a chance to see him on days I might not otherwise.  It gives my little boys a place to sit and ride when they want to be like dad.  And it gives my big boy a place to learn to work with his dad by teaching by his side.

I am thankful for slow old horses that might seem broken down and even a little worthless until I throw my babies on their backs.  Carrying my most precious cargo, their plodding pace seems just right.  Their steady gait teaches my young learners to keep going, keep trying, and keep holding on.

I am thankful for weekly water checks that might seem to eat up a day, but provide the perfect excuse for me to go for a quick lunch date with my man.  Some trips we conquer the world’s problems and other days we sit in a peaceful silence as we look out over the beautiful vastness of this country.  Every once in a while there is actually a water issue to take care, and on those days we are thankful for all the weeks that nothing went wrong.

I am thankful for a western heritage, a way of living that we are able to continue to this day.  There may be innovations and advancements in farming and ranching that have progressed the industry that I wholly embrace, but branding on the range like the old timers did feels like a nod to the foundation they gave.

I am thankful to have our work right outside the back door.  Somedays it feels like it never quits, but every day I am thankful to look out the window and see our cattle, watch my husband drive around the corner and send the kids off to work.  Jumping in to help work is just a quick walk away where everyone is welcome and no one is turned away.

I am thankful to be in an industry that feeds the world and feeds the world something they desperately need.  We can debate all day about the health and nutrition facts but no one will convince me that beef at your table isn’t just good for your body, it’s good for the soul.  I know that because the same beef I raise for the grocery store sits on my table to feed my own family. 

I am thankful for a sometimes dirty, smelly, disorganized shop that not only keeps our equipment up and running, but my own rig too.  It’s a place for my kids to take apart their dirt bikes.  It’s a place for new ideas and projects.  It’s a place to huff up a basketball or a flat tire.  It may call for too many late nights working, but it also expands the possibilities for my family.

I’m thankful for bright lights- in the arena, on the tractor, outside the shop, and the flashlight I use to check cows in the night.  All too often I complain about having to use them, that the work is going too long and too late.  But these lights help finish the work and finish it right.

I’m thankful I get to see the miracle of life and also witness the grief of death.  Whether it is a favorite pet or just another cow in the herd, we feel the gift every life is and the loss of every passing.  Instead of becoming calloused to either, the beauty, strength, fragility, and hope of every life has become a counted blessing.

I’m thankful to watch the seasons come and pass every year.  The hope of a new spring is exciting and invigorating.  The eventual growth through the summer makes the hard, long days worth it.  Making an accounting of the year’s production with the fall harvest is satisfying.  And then resting through the winter as Mother Nature prepares for a new year is peaceful.   

I could go on and on finding things to be thankful for.  From the little cowboy hats and boots that line my mudroom to the chickens in the coop, there is something that brings joy and peace to my life.  

If you haven’t taken time to pause this season to be grateful for the blessings around you, take a little timeout and give thanks.  The hustle and bustle of life might have you believing there isn’t a lot to be thankful for.  And while Christmas is in a hurry to splash across your front door, don’t let it push a season of gratitude aside.

Doing Scary Things- Ranch Wife Style

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The comfort zone- a place of ease, perceived control, and little stress.  Let’s be honest, we all want to operate inside our comfort zone where we can keep anxiety at bay, feel confident, and know what we are doing.  We fear failure so we ensure success by only doing those things we have already done.  But experience teaches that the most growth and learning happens when we step outside that comfort zone.  Eleanor Roosevelt once said, “Do something everyday that scares you. These small things that make us uncomfortable help us build courage to do the work we do.”  

Life on the ranch tends to give us all plenty of moments outside our comfort zone that we can either embrace and learn through or shy away from and stay stagnant.  I’ll admit that embracing those moments feels especially hard when my failures are out on display for so many others to see.  It’s ok for my growing children to learn from failure, but as a grown adult, I too often feel like I should just know, well… everything.

Just last week I took the opportunity to do something new and outside my comfort zone.  For some, this might seem like a simple daily chore but for me, it was a whole new experience- feeding cows solo.  Now I go out and help feed often, sometimes daily.  I know the routine, what to feed, how much, but I’ve always been the crew that opens the gates, cuts the net wrap off and such.  

What I haven’t ever done is be the guy in the tractor behind the wheel.  If we had to choose between my very capable husband and myself in the seat, we choose him because we want to get the job done and move on.  And, really, why should I do it when he is there?

Eventually the day rolled around when all of the usual feeding crew were gone.  The roping that was supposed to get done with plenty of time for the ranchers to get home and feed, went long, lending to one of two possibilities.  Either they would have to feed late after getting home or I could jump in and try to do it myself.  I pulled on my big girl coveralls and jumped in the tractor seat, sure that I could feed three bales of hay without disaster striking.

There were a few things I knew I had on my side as I set out- first I had the basics of tractor mechanics down so that I could drive faster than at a snail pace and move the loader in all the necessary directions.  Second, if I had questions, FaceTime put me just one phone call away from help.  And third, cows don’t care how pretty the feeding is, they just want the hay out.

Getting to the stackyard I found the right hay, and through a little trial and error, managed to get a bale on the forks and grab one with the three point bale squeeze on the back.  It wasn’t as smooth and easy as when the guys do it, but I was doing it.  I headed up the hill to the hungry heifers, planning in my mind how I was going to go about feeding.  I would set the first bale down, cut the wrap off, tip it over, send it rolling down the hill and that would keep the cows out of the way while I put the other two in bale feeders around the pasture.  Easy enough.

Everything started off according to plan until it was time to send that bale rolling down the hill.  What seemed like a simple little push with the forks was hardly so and because it was taking longer than usual, the cows were now starting to get in the way.  To complicate things even more, it was suddenly dark outside.

I was definitely outside my comfort zone, but also so in the thick of what I was doing that there was no quitting.

Scooping up the bale I had intended to roll down the hill, I put it in the first feeder and opted to try again with the second bale, learning from my earlier mistakes.  It took a little trial and error but bale number two was finally rolled out and the cows were content to leave me alone while I fed the last bale.

Heading to the feeder, I saw that it was on a hill and while I might be in a tractor, I had better be smart about how I went about getting there.  Between the snow and mud, the hill was slick and in that moment, a distinct memory of a teenage girl failing to turn a tractor up a muddy hill came rushing back to me.

Putting the tractor in the low, snail pace gear, I carefully headed down the hill, making sure I had a clear plan out of there after dropping my load.  All seemed well as I made my way to the feeder until I stopped the tractor to pull off the net wrap and noticed the tractor continued to slide.  I quickly turned the wheels and that was enough to keep it still.  I knew I could dump the bale but I wasn’t sure how I would get out of my predicament once I straightened out again.

Four wheel drive.  That was the solution.  I really should have thought of that before heading down the slippery hill but at least I was thinking of it now.  The only problem was that of the millions of buttons, levers and switches, I had no idea which to toggle.  And I was sure that the wrong one would probably make the whole tractor implode.

Mustering the courage to make that phone call that admitted a bit of failure, I called my husband and asked for help.  Without laughing at my mistakes or making me feel even more dumb than I already felt, my rancher easily helped me get out of my sticky situation.  I dropped the last bale, skirted around the feeder, and headed for home quite proud of what I had finally accomplished that night.

For some, this was a simple chore, something they could probably do with their eyes closed, although I don’t recommend it.   They made it seem easy but as I went through the very steps they did, it seemed so complicated and almost dauntin.  I hope you chuckle about this little ranch wife willing to help even when the job is outside her comfort zone.  But more importantly I hope you learn a few lessons from her.

Learn that you can accomplish far more than you think you can.  You just have to try.  New things are hard and scary- they are supposed to be!  But, trying, jumping in with both feet is the only way to grow.  Learn that people are here to help you.  Asking for help isn’t admitting failure, even though it feels like it.  Learn that the only real confidence in life comes from conquering those moments of fear, big or small.  I might not be on the “A team” when it comes to the feeding crew, but if the job needs doing, I know I can do it.  Next time, I just might have to start a little earlier and find the four wheel drive a little sooner.

Just Bad Luck Days on the Ranch

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“If I didn’t have bad luck, I wouldn’t have any luck at all!”  There might not be a truer phrase for a rancher to admit to than that.  Some days it feels like all the stars have to align for the work to get done without any hitches, hiccups, or holdups.  Whether it is Mother Nature the parts man or ornery old boss cow, someone, somewhere is cooking up a disaster to derail even the best laid plans.  You can always count on the fact that in the middle of the cattle work, farm work, machinery fixing, fence fixing or anything else on the never end to-do list, something, without fail, will go wrong.  And while I don’t have any research data to back me up, I’m pretty sure that the probability and the size of such a disaster goes up exponentially when its a high stakes situation, and goes up even more so when there is zero time for a breakdown and a do-over.

Okay, yes that may be an overdramatization, but you have to admit that there are days when things, not only don’t go right, but seem to go especially bad.  It’s those sort of days you might have to concede the victory to fate, turn in early so nothing else can go wrong and laugh at the day to keep from crying.  Looking back, we have had our fair share of bad luck days, some we can laugh at now… some that we still need a little more time.  

This last winter felt like one stroke of bad luck after another.  I mean, to begin with, it had to be bad luck that after years of drought and praying for moisture, it all comes pouring down in one, unending winter.  Of course, we never look a gift horse in the mouth, but if I could have been in charge of the timing of said moisture, it certainly wouldn’t have come in a near record breaking winter fashion.  

In a season where we really needed all the things to go right, I swear everything would go wrong, especially on the days when we were far from home and help.  We put one fire out after another (not literally fires, but that surely would have warmed things up while we were freezing our fingers off).  If it wasn’t the tractor door shattering (on a rented tractor, no less) to keep the work from being done, it was the blown hydraulic hose on the back.  If it wasn’t the flat tire on the backhoe that kept us from feeding, it was the massive sinkhole that swallowed the newly fixed tractor.  Not only did the gator break down but the snowmobile wouldn’t start either.  You’ve heard of the hand Midas that turns everything that it touched to gold?  We had the exact opposite.  We touched it and it died, quit, or broke.

Sometimes it isn’t the hand that is cursed, it’s just the machine that refuses to stay in running condition. Our problem child of a pivot is simply dubbed “the old pivot” although it might be more accurate to call it the-leaky-run-down-dilapidated-old-pivot.  As soon as one hole is plugged or fixed, a new pinhole starts gushing.  Aside from its leaky bits, there are computer problems and electrical problems.  You might say that running an old pivot just signs you up for breakdowns, but I think this pivot runs at a higher level of breakdowns.  If we have any luck this year, it’s getting that old thing replaced… hope I didn’t just jinx it!

We might just make our own bad luck for the number of times we say things like “we are all caught up with the shop work” or “all the cows are settled.”  It’s like those darn cows know when we breathe a sigh of relief and work to stir things up.  If I had a dollar for everytime we think the cows are settled and then get a phone call that says the cows are out, we could pay someone else to keep them in.  They are masters at finding the down wires, gates left open or just barging their way through.  And with the sort of luck we run, we get those cows back in but can’t find the hole they are crawling through, so they just keep getting out.

Mother Nature especially likes to throw a wrench in our carefully planned out days.  Despite knowing the old adage that you bale hay while the sun shines, it always seems we get into the wrong project for the weather.  We meticulously check the forecast, make plans to best fit the conditions of the day, only to find the weatherman was wrong once again.  It’s spraying weeds or cutting hay because it’s sunny for days on end to only have thunderstorms suddenly come in, day after day.  Or planting fields just before the predicted storms never roll through.  We move cows or plan to brand, sure it’s supposed to be a nice, sunny day, only to be caught in Idaho’s blustery wind, something we should learn to count on anyway.

 Oh the luck of a rancher.  It seems the ball never bounces our way.  But truth be told, we are far luckier than we deserve with the great industry we have to be a part of.  We have the great fortune of working the land, having the satisfaction of working as a family, and doing a work we love.  There may be moments, some days more than others, that it feels like we have nothing but bad luck.  But I will take these bad luck days on the ranch over any other day.  Who needs luck when we live a life so blessed.

A Heartfelt Thanks to a Rancher

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Thanksgiving week is often the pinnacle point of heartfelt gratitude.  The holiday helps us to slow down and take time to see all of the goodness in our lives.  We give thanks for the families around us, the homes and careers we have, the opportunities for growing and learning and the many luxuries we have that we surely take for granted.  

High on that list of thanks should be the farmers and ranchers that help feed families around the world.  This may seem like an obvious choice but I wonder how many people actually realize that without the backbreaking work of the agriculture industry, their thanksgiving would look very different.

From the turkey at the center of the thanksgiving table to the stuffing and corn and mashed potatoes and even the sweet potato souffle, it all began in someone’s field.  Those tasty rolls began as a small wheat seed that was cultivated, harvested, milled and prepared into the flour you used to make great-grandma’s best ever roll recipe.  That sweet whipped cream started at the dairy and made its way to the shelves for you to whip up for a tasty pie garnish.  That beautiful garden salad is brought to you by the row crop farmers tending their lettuce, carrot and onion fields, just to start.     

There isn’t a single bit of Thanksgiving dinner you could have without the management and stewardship of farmers and ranchers. No, I take that back.  In this day and age there are plenty of synthetic food alternatives and imitations that you could choose from.  But synthetic foods only imitating the real flavor of a savory plate of meat and potatoes could never compare to the real thing.

Besides thanking farmers and ranchers for the foods you get to enjoy, not only on Thanksgiving day, but every day, we owe them a thanks because without them, there is so much of life we wouldn’t enjoy.  Imagine if you can, a world without large operations growing masses of food products to sell around the world.  Imagine what life would be like if you were responsible to grow and provide all of the food that you and your family would eat.

Tending to animals and crops, harvesting the meats and vegetables, processing the farm products into kitchen ready goods would be all consuming.  Think back to our pioneer ancestors and the time they gave to butcher their own animals, church their butter and grind their wheat.  If we were completely dependent on providing all our own foods we would either have very little or spend all our time growing it.

With advancements in technology came great improvements in agriculture that allowed farmers and ranchers the capacity to take on more crops and more acreage to feed more families than just their own.  As people could purchase foods, it in turn allowed them to use their time and energy in other ways.  People could follow their dreams and new ideas, whether it was an exciting career, traveling adventures or enjoying the arts.

Today we have celebrities, stars and popular figures that do very little to provide for themselves, but rather spend all their time entertaining us.  Around the world are presidents, leaders and dignitaries that work to make our countries safer to raise our families.  Our children have chances to learn more things in more ways than our forefathers could have ever dreamed of.  And all of these opportunities and more are afforded to us because we have an agriculture industry that takes on the responsibility to feed the world.

This week as you count your blessings and all the good you have, remember that so much of it comes from the good men and women that labor in fields across the world.  They deserve your thanks in so many ways.

About Me

Hello! I'm Allison, The Rancher's Wife! There's nothing I love more than being out on the ranch with my husband and kids. Join me for a look at what goes on here at the ranch and the life being a rancher's wife!

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