HUMAN INTEREST

The Best Ordinary Tuesday: Finding Glimmers in the Grind

Tue, 12 May 2026 13:16:37 GMT

We are the people of the next. On a farm, the clock and the calendar are our masters, but they are also our greatest distractions. We wait all day for the end of the day so we can finally pull off our boots. We wait all year for the next year to come, hoping for better margins, better weather or a better balance of the markets. We spend entire lifetimes working for the prize 2-year-old, the record milk production or the bin-busting crop that finally justifies the sweat.

But if we are honest, when those records finally arrive, they often feel like a destination we reached while we were looking out the window at something else. Because the truth of the farm life — the goodness we praise God for — isn’t found in the record books; it’s found on an ordinary Tuesday.

The Success of the Seconds

Success on our 750-cow dairy is usually measured in pounds, percentages and bushels harvested. We track data points with precision, seeking logic in the chaos, but the real successes of a farming life don’t always happen in the margins. Sometimes they are the glimmering moments that we too often take for granted because they don’t come with a trophy or a line on a balance sheet.

Think about the last time you worked cattle together as a family. It’s a task that can easily descend into shouted directions and frayed nerves. But then, there’s that moment where it all just works. No one has to say a word; you move in a silent, practiced choreography passed down through generations. Your father knows exactly where you’re going to move the gate; your children anticipate the next cow in the chute. In that fleeting minute, the legacy isn’t a legal document or a transition plan — it’s a heartbeat.

It’s the five-minute window in between filling the planter when a football appears from the back of the truck. The dust is still settling, the sun is high and, for 60 seconds, you aren’t a manager or an operator; you’re a dad. You’re a kid again yourself. Those spirals thrown over the tongue of the planter are the things we actually long for, yet we often treat them as interruptions to the “real work.”

Community Covered in Plastic

We saw it last fall during the long stretch of chopping. The silage pile was growing, the weather was turning and the exhaustion was setting in. Then, the high school varsity football team showed up — a dozen young men with more energy than sense, ready to help pull the plastic and toss the tires.

In the grand scheme of the year’s production, that couple of hours of help was a small fraction of the labor. But in the grand scheme of life, it was everything. It was the community showing up when the always-on nature of the dairy felt like too much to carry alone. It was the realization that the farm doesn’t just produce milk; it produces the character of the town. If you didn’t stop to see the goodness in those dusty, laughing teenagers, you might have thought it was just another chore finished. But it was the best Tuesday of the month.

The Prize of the Return

Then there is the greatest glimmer of all: the conversation you didn’t dare to script. It happens in the cab of the truck or while walking back from the parlor. Your oldest son, the one you’ve watched grow up in the shadow of this barn, looks at the horizon and says he wants to do what Dad does for a living. After graduating from college this spring, he is planning to come back to the family farm.

In that moment, the low margin and crummy weather lose their power. The audacity and faith required to keep a 750-cow and 1,800-acre operation running are suddenly rewarded. Not with a record milk check, but with the knowledge that the soil you’ve tended and the cows you’ve bred have a future beyond your own hands.

Searching for the Glimmer

The thing about these moments is that they don’t happen for 24 consecutive hours. They don’t last for weeks or months. They are seconds. They are glimmers of hope that we have to actively search for.

If we aren’t careful, we can finish the day thinking it was just another grind — another ordinary Tuesday where the equipment broke or the labor was short. But if we adjust our sails and shift our gaze, we realize that the days we’ve been longing for are happening right in front of our eyes.

The prize isn’t the 2-year-old in the show ring; it’s the 2-year-old grandchild sitting on your lap in the tractor. The record crop isn’t just the bushels per acre; it’s the harvest of memories with family by your side being made while the work was being done.

Praise God for the goodness that being a farmer is — not because it is easy and not because it is always profitable, but because it gives us the eyes to see that an ordinary Tuesday can be the best day we have ever asked for. We just have to be brave enough to stop waiting for the “next” long enough to see the “now.”

The Year of the Woman Farmer: Becky Nyman’s Global Impact and Local Roots

Mon, 04 May 2026 12:51:01 GMT

In the quiet, early morning hours in Hilmar, Calif., the air is thick with the familiar scent of a working dairy. For Becky Nyman, a fourth-generation dairy farmer, this is the center of her universe: a multi-site, family Jersey dairy operation. And, while her boots are firmly planted in the California soil, her vision is fixed on a horizon that spans continents.

Nyman is a woman of two worlds. In one, she manages the complex regulatory and employee landscape of a high-performing dairy operation alongside her brother, Brad. In the other, she sits at the head of the table as the first female chair of the U.S. Dairy Export Council (USDEC), representing the interests of U.S. producers in high-stakes trade discussions from Paris to Beijing.

Her journey is more than a personal success story; it is a blueprint for the modern dairy leader — one who successfully bridges the gap between the family farm and the global marketplace.

The Road Back to the Farm

Like many farm kids, Nyman’s path wasn’t a straight line back to the barn. After graduating from Cal Poly San Luis Obispo and earning a master’s degree in agribusiness from Texas A&M, she spent nine years in the corporate world. By her late 20s, she was living in San Francisco, commuting to a downtown office and building a career far removed from the farm landscape of her youth.

“I didn’t realize being on the farm was really an option until I was 30,” Nyman recalls. “My dad was talking to me and said, ‘You know, there’s a place for you on the dairy if you want to come back.’”

It took time to process the shift, but in 2011, Nyman traded the city skyline for the family corrals. She joined Brad, who had moved straight into operations after college. Their partnership is a study in complementary strengths: Brad handles the daily operations, while Nyman leans into the regulatory and employee side of the business.

“I tell people I try my best to be a lawyer and an accountant,” she says with a laugh. “And I still need help from real lawyers and accountants, but that’s the role I fill on our family farm.”

(Photo by Becky Nyman)

A Culture of Perseverance

To understand Nyman’s leadership style, you have to understand Hilmar. It is a dairy-centric community where the spirit of cooperation is woven into the history of the land. It is where Hilmar Cheese was born from the shared vision of Jersey dairy farmers who saw the value in their milk’s unique components.

“Hilmar is special,” Nyman says, nodding that is where her family ships their milk. “My 90-year-old uncle recently told me that, growing up, his dad would make him go milk cows for the neighbor after her milked his own cows because they needed the help. That’s what community does — you use your strengths for the overall good.”

That sense of community is anchored by a single word that has echoed through four generations of Nymans: perseverance.

“It’s the first word that comes to mind,” she explains. “My grandfather was an immigrant who made his way to California. Every family gathering, we heard stories of perseverance. In international trade, that translates easily. You win some, you lose some, and the path is hard, but you keep going for the betterment of the industry.”

The Farmer’s Voice at the Global Table

When Nyman sits down with USDEC, she often finds herself in a unique position. In rooms filled with policy experts and corporate executives, she is often the only active dairy farmer — or one of a very few.

“Having that perspective of being on the ground is my strength in the room,” she says. “People want to hear the reality of it. They want to hear what it’s like from the source of the food. In theory, certain trade ideas look good on paper, but I can speak to the practical challenges facing the American dairy producer.”

One of her “aha” moments came during a high-level trip to China. While meeting with the Ministry of Commerce, Nyman chose to speak not just of logistics, but of community.

“I talked about how dairy farmers and agriculture, in general, have more in common than we do different all around the world,” she recalls. “One of the ministers actually took my comments and folded them into his own. He used my words to find common ground. It was an eye-opening moment — he heard me, and he realized that our shared interests were stronger than our disagreements.”

(Photo provided by Becky Nyman)

The 2026 Export Landscape: Year of the Woman

And in 2026, the work of USDEC has never been more critical. The year started with a bang, showing year-over-year double-digit growth. U.S. milk solids equivalent volume increased 12% in January — the biggest January on record. This growth was driven by cheese, butterfat and a surprising surge in nonfat dry milk.

At the recent 2026 USDEC Annual Membership Meeting, Nyman felt a renewed sense of optimism.

“Trade creates opportunities for farmers to stay on the farm and for future generations to return to it,” she told members.

The meeting highlighted several key themes Nyman is bringing back to Hilmar:

Exports are Essential: With 96% of the global population living outside U.S. borders, exports are the key to price stability and long-term growth.
The Fat Boom: Rising butterfat levels are creating both complexity and opportunity for global competitiveness.
The Protein Craze: The world’s hunger for nutrient-dense, sustainable protein — from whey to high-quality milk proteins — is not slowing down.

Perhaps most meaningful to Nyman was the recognition of the International Year of the Woman Farmer. As the first woman to lead USDEC, she views the milestone through a lens of service rather than status.

“I’m humbled about being named the first female chair,” Nyman says. “I try not to think about the title as much as just trying to do as much good as I can for our producers.”

This mindset of action over accolades is what she hopes to pass on to others.

“For many young women, opportunity starts with seeing what’s possible — and seeing themselves in it,” she says.

Her advice to the next generation of women in Hilmar and beyond is simple but brave.

“Say yes when opportunities come your way, even if it’s uncomfortable or you don’t think you’re qualified. Lean forward and never stop learning,” Nyman says.

(Photo provided by Becky Nyman)

Sustainability and the Future

In Hilmar, Nyman is practicing what she preaches on the global stage. Her operation is part of a digester cluster, where neighboring dairies came together in 2024 to share resources and infrastructure for renewable energy.

“We do what makes sense for the business,” she says of her sustainability efforts. “We do what is feasible. When I’m on international trips, I share the framework of our FARM program. It helps the world understand that we have a structure of responsibility, but I also tell them we do these things because we want to be responsible, not because of a mandate.”

The Bottom Line: It’s All About People

Whether she is navigating a complex regulatory filing in California or a trade barrier in a foreign capital, Nyman believes the dairy industry is, at its core, a people business.

“The people involved are equally, if not more, important than the cattle,” she says. “Navigating how to provide a stable working environment and fulfilling careers for our employees translates directly to trade. We are providing ingredients for industries in other parts of the world to grow and create jobs there. We are a reliable source for what they need to feed their people.”

Nyman’s journey from the family corrals to the global stage is a testament to the power of a unified voice. She serves as a reminder that the resilience of the dairy industry is fueled by families who persevere, communities that collaborate and leaders who aren’t afraid to say “yes” to the daunting, yet rewarding, work of feeding a growing world.

As she moves forward in her role as USDEC chair, Nyman remains focused on the “why” behind the work: ensuring the next generation of Nymans — and the next generation of U.S. dairy farmers — have a clear and sustainable path back to the land.

Chocolate Reclaims the Top Spot as America’s Favorite Ice Cream Flavor

Thu, 30 Apr 2026 19:14:44 GMT

Chocolate is back on top as America’s favorite ice cream flavor, according to the International Dairy Foods Association (IDFA) National Ice Cream & Frozen Novelty Trends Survey. After briefly ceding the No. 1 spot to vanilla in 2024, chocolate has reclaimed the lead in 2026. Butter pecan also continues its climb, moving ahead of vanilla among U.S. consumers.

The biannual survey reflects responses from more than 2,200 U.S. adults and tracks how Americans choose ice cream and frozen novelties, from flavors and formats to toppings and traditions.

IDFA’s latest results point to a mix of nostalgia and indulgence shaping consumer preference. Classic flavors remain strong, while richer, more decadent options continue gaining traction.

Top 5 flavors among U.S. consumers:

Chocolate
Butter Pecan
Vanilla
Cookies and Cream/Oreo
Caramel/Salted Caramel

Compared with previous years, the rankings show continued movement toward richer, mix-in driven flavors, while traditional staples still anchor the category.

“Americans’ love for ice cream is as strong as ever,” says Michael Dykes, D.V.M., president and CEO of IDFA. “From timeless favorites like chocolate and butter pecan to newer indulgent options, ice cream continues to bring people together and create moments of joy across the country. As we look ahead to National Ice Cream Month, it’s clear this remains a staple in American life.”

The Sweetest States: Where America Loves Ice Cream Most

Other findings from the survey show how consumers enjoy their ice cream:

Cone preference leads among formats, with 40% of Americans choosing cones, followed by sandwiches at 24% and mini cups at 14%.

(Source: 2026 IDFA National Ice Cream & Frozen Novelty Trends Survey)

Waffle cones or bowls remain the most popular vessel across generations, with Gen Z splitting more evenly between bowls and waffle bowls compared to older groups.

Hot fudge ranks as the top topping at 31%, followed by whipped cream at 27%, caramel sauce at 21%, and chocolate sauce at 18%. Flavor remains the primary purchase driver, with 70% of consumers saying it is very important, ahead of price and portion size.

When asked about iconic ice cream memories, respondents most often pointed to neighborhood ice cream trucks, followed by birthday ice cream cakes and visits to local scoop shops.

The Invisible Enemy: The Audacity and Faith of One Incredible Wisconsin Dairy Family

Mon, 27 Apr 2026 13:09:11 GMT

In the world of dairy farming, we often talk about the things we can see: the quality of the silage, the conformation of a heifer or the rising numbers on a milk check. But for the Den Hoed family in northern Wisconsin, the most defining battle of the last 17 years has been against an enemy that is entirely invisible. It is a story of a silent killer that nearly broke their business, but instead, forged a family legacy of unshakable faith and the grit to build something entirely new from the ground up.

The story of Den Hoed Dairy doesn’t begin in the cabin country of Wisconsin. It begins in the Yakima Valley of Washington, where Walt Den Hoed grew up milking cows alongside his father and brothers. By 2008, the operation had grown to 1,200 cows. But that year, a storm hit: Walt’s father passed away from cancer, and the family realized — too late — that no succession planning had been done.

In 2010, at age 40, Walt faced a crossroads. He could stay in the shadow of a fractured legacy, or he could take a leap of faith. With his wife, Denise, and their children, he looked at seven dairies across the Midwest. They eventually settled on a site in northern Wisconsin, arriving with nothing more than two tractors, a loader and a determination to start over.

“We didn’t bring any cows,” Walt recalls. “We bought everything here. We didn’t know then why the former owner had sold the farm. We found out soon enough.”

(Den Hoed Dairy)

The Silent Killer: 17 Years of Stray Voltage

What the Den Hoeds had unknowingly purchased was a stray voltage farm. Located precisely between two electrical substations, the earth beneath their feet was a conduit for balancing energy. For the cows, it was a living nightmare.

“It affects their liver,” Walt explains, his voice heavy with the memory of the struggle. “The cows wouldn’t drink.”

At their lowest point, the cows were only taking in 13 gallons of water a day.

“We were down to 44 pounds of milk on 3x milking,” says Colton Den Hoed. “They wouldn’t even let their milk down in the parlor; they’d get back to the stalls and just start dripping. It was like they were being suppressed from the inside out.”

The numbers were staggering and, for any other business, it would have been a death sentence. The farm carried a 44% cull rate and a 10% death rate. In the winter, production hovered at 60 lb.; in the summer, 75 lb. Compared to the 90 lb.-plus averages they had achieved in Washington, the Den Hoeds were merely surviving in a state of constant “IV tube” management.

“We were in the shed at 3 a.m. in -25°F-below weather, building little pens to warm up calves that were dying because the stray voltage prevents calcium transfer,” Denise says. “They couldn’t keep themselves warm. We were doing whatever it took to save them, but you can’t out-farm physics.”

(Den Hoed Dairy)

The Legacy Farmer Pivot: Permission to Dream Again

For years, the family lived in a survival bubble. The Den Hoeds say when you are buried in the daily trauma of losing animals and fighting a plummeting milk check, you stop dreaming. You focus on the next bill, the next IV bag and the next sunrise.

The turning point came a year and a half ago when the family connected with Legacy Farmer. They wanted a cold, hard audit of their operation. They were prepared for the criticism. In fact, they invited it.

“We wanted to find the holes,” says Jayce Den Hoed. “We wanted to know where we were failing. But they dug into our portfolio for two months and came back with something we didn’t expect. They told us, ‘You guys can’t get any more efficient. The only thing you’re doing wrong is milk production, and you can’t help that in this facility.’”

That revelation was the green light the family needed. The audit proved their do-it-all philosophy — hauling their own milk, harvesting 1,700 acres of their own feed and handling every equipment repair in-house — had created a foundation of extreme efficiency. If they could just get the cows onto clean ground, the sky was the limit.

“We had a day of depression when we saw the reality of the numbers needed to build new,” Colton says. “But we all came back to the table with the same vision. We knew we had the equity. We just needed the courage to jump.”

Building from Scratch: 6 Miles to Freedom

The Den Hoeds are currently in the middle of a massive transformation. Just 6 miles away from their current death trap, they are building a brand-new facility from scratch. The new dairy will feature a double-20 parallel parlor and a state-of-the-art feed center.

The goal is to move the milking herd, dry cows and close-ups to the new site by November. The original farm will be repurposed for heifers and calves, who seem better able to handle the environmental stress until they reach breeding age.

“The bank approval was a miracle,” Denise says. “We spent months putting together a portfolio — projections for years to come, profit and loss statements, every detail laid out. We had a three-hour meeting with the board, and within 90 days, we had the approval. Our lender actually grew up on a farm that was also plagued by stray voltage. She understood our heart because she had lived our pain.”

(Den Hoed Dairy)

The Next Generation: Wired for the Legacy

Perhaps the most compelling part of the Den Hoed story is the two young men standing alongside Walt. In an era where the average age of the American farmer is rising, Jayce and Colton bring that figure down considerably. They are hardworking, tech-savvy and deeply committed to the family brand.

Jayce, who bought his first 100 acres at age 18, even before he graduated high school, handles the crop inputs and the beef side of the business.

“I’ve always wanted to farm,” he says. “You teach your kids responsibility, and that’s missing in our culture today.”

Colton, who cares for the youngstock, has taken the Den Hoed story to the world through social media, where he has built a following of nearly 200,000 people. He documents the good, the bad and the muddy.

“I want to show people what we do. I’ve had kids from small towns come through the barn who have never seen a cow,” Colton says. “The disconnect is huge, and we’re trying to bridge it.”

The brothers haven’t always seen eye-to-eye — they admit to butting heads in their younger years — but the shared trauma of the stray voltage years and the shared vision of the new build have welded them together.

(Den Hoed Dairy)

A Culture of “Familia”

The Den Hoeds don’t just treat each other like family; they extend that culture to their team. When they moved to Wisconsin, they struggled to find help until they recruited from the local Hispanic community. Today, they have four employees who have been with them for years.

“We treat them like family,” Colton says. “We have dinners together. We bring them donuts. We know about their lives. It’s not just a number on a payroll; it’s a relationship. That morale is why they stay, even when the facility was a struggle to work in.”

This focus on people is the secret sauce of their efficiency. By hauling their own milk, they save nearly $1.10 per cwt. — a figure that adds up to hundreds of thousands of dollars annually.

“If we didn’t do it ourselves, we wouldn’t be here,” Walt says simply.

The Audacity of Faith

Woven through every conversation with the Den Hoeds is a profound sense of faith. In their barn, a sign reads “In God We Trust,” and it isn’t just for show.

“When we put that sign up, it felt like our problems got worse,” Walt says with a wry smile. “It was like Satan went to work harder. But it just made us pray harder. We stopped praying for God to ‘fix’ the farm and started praying for wisdom. And that’s when the pieces started falling into place.”

They see God’s hand in the timing of the Legacy Farmer audit, in the specific background of their lender and even in the naysayers who told them they would fail.

“You’re always going to have people who think you’re nuts,” Walt says. “But we’ve learned to manifest the positive. You don’t go forward unless you poke your head out of the shell. We’re taking a leap of faith because we believe this industry is worth it, and we believe our family is worth it.”

Looking Toward November

As the construction crews move dirt at the new site 6 miles away, the Den Hoeds are already seeing the cumulative wins. Their pregnancy rate has surged from 23% to nearly 50% after a shift in management protocols. Their days in milk have dropped from 215 to 160. Though these changes did not translate to a single extra pound at their current facility, the engine is being tuned for the big move.

“We need hope,” Denise says. “We were in that survival pool for so long we didn’t realize how depressed we were. We had actually stopped dreaming.”

But the dreams are back. In November, when the first trailer load of cows pulls into the clean parlor of the new facility, it won’t just be a move of livestock. It will be the culmination of 17 years of perseverance. It will be the moment the invisible enemy finally loses its grip.

As the rain falls over the Wisconsin cabin country, the Den Hoed family gathers for their daily lunch — a tradition that keeps them connected and grounded. They joke, they plan and they pray. They are a testament to the fact that the most valuable asset on any dairy isn’t the quota or the equipment — it’s the people who refuse to quit.

The Den Hoeds are no longer just surviving. They are building a legacy that will outlast the hardships and the stray voltage. They are proving that when you combine elite efficiency with an audacious faith, the cream always rises to the top.

Engineering the Future: How One California Dairyman Uses Worms to Innovate

Tue, 21 Apr 2026 13:10:37 GMT

In the heart of California’s Central Valley, where the heat of Stanislaus County shimmers over vast stretches of almond hulls and corn silage, the rhythm of Alberto Dairy has remained constant for more than four decades. It is a rhythm of early mornings and the steady hum of a milking parlor. But beneath the surface of this traditional landscape, a quiet revolution is taking place — one powered by millions of earthworms and a third-generation farmer’s commitment to a legacy built on sacrifice.

Anthony Agueda, the grandson of Portuguese immigrants Antonio and Maria Alberto, doesn’t see sustainability as a corporate buzzword or a modern trend. To him, it is the natural evolution of the heavy lift his grandparents began in 1981. Today, as he stands at the helm of a modern dairy operation, Agueda is proving the path to the future isn’t always paved with complex machinery. Sometimes, it’s found in the simple, elegant systems of nature.

(Photos provided by Alberto Dairy)

A Foundation of Sacrifice

To understand where Alberto Dairy is going, one must understand where it started. In the late 1970s and early ‘80s, the Alberto family wasn’t just building a business; they were chasing the American Dream with a level of intensity hard for the modern world to comprehend.

“My grandpa told me that when he came to the United States, he was working three jobs and went seven years without a single day off,” Agueda reflects. “In our workflow today, if we go seven days without a day off, it’s tough on us. But for them, it was about survival and building something for the generations they hadn’t even met yet.”

That old school value of sacrifice remains the North Star for the dairy. Antonio and Maria, now in their late 70s, still participate in the daily life of the farm. They didn’t just pass down land and cattle; they passed down the understanding that the cows always come first.

“You don’t just clock in and out,” Agueda says. “You go home when the work is done. My grandpa and my dad taught me that from the time I was a young kid feeding calves.”

The Third-Generation Pivot

Every generation of this California dairy family has faced a different challenge. For Antonio, it was the physical labor of the wheelbarrow and the struggle to establish a foothold. For Agueda’s father and uncle, it was the introduction of genetics, breeding and the early days of digital record-keeping. For Agueda, the challenge is navigating a landscape defined by environmental regulation and the urgent need for resource efficiency.

“Sustainability has always been there,” he explains. “A farmer has always left the land better than when they inherited it. It’s just that each generation adapts differently. Mine is focused on environmental sustainability — removing nitrogen and carbon and protecting our water.”

While many California dairies are looking toward methane digesters to meet state mandates, Agueda’s family found themselves drawn to something different. They wanted a system that mimicked God’s creation — something simple, effective and low maintenance.

(Photo provided by Alberto Dairy )

The Power of the BioFiltro

The solution came through a partnership with Nestlé: the BioFiltro system. It is a vermifiltration (worm-based) system that manages gallons of water every single day.

The concept is deceptively simple. Manure from the flush lanes is separated into solids and liquids. The liquids are then sprinkled over massive “worm beds” covering nearly 8 acres. As the water percolates through the beds, millions of worms and specialized microbes go to work, consuming the carbon and nitrogen. In about four hours, the water emerges on the other side, stripped of its contaminants and ready to be recycled.

Agueda recalls the light bulb moment when he visited a similar system in Washington State.

“The owner had a bucket of manure water from before the system and a bucket from after. He held the ‘after’ bucket up, and you couldn’t smell a thing,” he says. “It looked like clean water. If it were slightly clearer, you’d think you could drink it.”

For Alberto Dairy, the BioFiltro wasn’t just an environmental win; it was an operational one. Mechanical systems are expensive and prone to breaking down. The worm beds, however, are gravity-fed and require minimal energy.

“We liked the simplicity,” Agueda says. “In 25 years, who knows what digester technology will look like. But this? This is just natural filtration.”

(Photo provided by Alberto Dairy)

Better for the Land, Better for the Cow

The benefits of the system have rippled through every aspect of the farm. The treated water, now low in the sludge that used to clog irrigation valves, is used to fertilize crops more efficiently. But a surprising benefit was found in the barns.

“Our mastitis cases have gone down significantly,” Agueda notes. “Because the water we use to flush the lanes is so much cleaner and has less bacteria, the cows are healthier. That’s an economic benefit because medicine is expensive, but more importantly, it’s about animal comfort. A cow that isn’t sick is a cow that’s out in the stalls enjoying herself.”

This focus on cow comfort is a hallmark of the modern Alberto Dairy. From mattresses and fans to a specialized nutritionists and regular hoof trimming, the technology on the farm serves one purpose: making sure the animals are thriving.

(Photo provided by Alberto Dairy )

Future-Proofing the Central Valley

The regulatory environment in California is notoriously difficult. Between the Sustainable Groundwater Management Act (SGMA) and strict methane reduction mandates, many farmers are choosing to leave the state.

By implementing the BioFiltro system, Agueda is proactively addressing the concerns of regulators and consumers alike. The system provides precise data on water usage and carbon reduction, which is used for carbon credit verification.

“It shows the public that dairies are the solution, not the problem,” Agueda asserts. “We aren’t just farming for regulators; we’re farming for the future.”

Alberto and Agueda Family: (Back row left to right) Aidan Alberto, Khloe Alberto, Kristen Alberto, Brian Alberto, Diane Agueda, Tony Agueda, Anthony Agueda, Megan Agueda, Lillian Agueda (Front row left to right) Maria Alberto, Antonio Alberto, Nathan Agueda

(Photo provided by Alberto Dairy )

The American Dream, Realized

As Agueda prepares for his upcoming marriage and looks toward raising a fourth generation on the farm, the weight of the legacy feels less like a burden and more like a gift. He uses his agricultural business degree from Fresno State to handle the bookkeeping that once burdened his grandmother, while still spending his days in the sun, vaccinating calves and helping to manage the herd.

If you asked his grandfather 40 years ago if he would one day be farming millions of worms to protect the atmosphere, he would have laughed. But today, as Antonio looks out over the fields he built from nothing, he sees a grandson who hasn’t forgotten the value of a day’s work.

“They truly achieved the American Dream,” Agueda says of his grandparents. “They started from the bottom, built a business and now they get to see it evolve. They’re proud because they know the land will be here for their great-grandchildren.”

In the end, the story of Anthony Agueda and Alberto Dairy is a reminder that the most profound innovations aren’t always found in a computer chip. Sometimes, they are found in the soil, in the tireless work of a million worms and in the enduring strength of a family that refuses to let their dream die.

Meet the Texas Powerhouse Serving Dairy, Dad Jokes and Outfits

Fri, 17 Apr 2026 12:59:43 GMT

In the world of Texas dairy farming, names usually carry weight. They represent generations of land, thousands of head of cattle and a legacy of grit. But for Kyndra Brown, the name that sticks closest to home is “Peewee.”

It was a nickname given to her by her father because she was born the smallest and youngest of four daughters. To a stranger, the name might imply someone who stands on the sidelines. But to anyone who has seen Brown navigate a muddy pen in fashionable boots or manage a complex digital health suite for her herd, the name is a badge of irony. Brown is a passionate, witty powerhouse, and she is exactly what the future of American dairy looks like.

(Images provided by Kyndra Brown)

The Girl Dad Legacy

Brown is a fourth-generation dairy farmer, but her path back to the family operation in Texas wasn’t a straight line. Growing up as one of four girls, she was immersed in a world where gender roles simply didn’t exist.

“My dad never pressured us,” Brown recalls. “He wanted us to make the choice to be here.”

That choice was framed by a powerful example set by her parents. In an industry that is often viewed as male-dominated, Brown’s father, Joe Schouten, was a girl dad decades before the term became a social media trend. When fellow dairymen would joke about his lack of sons to help with the heavy lifting, he had a standard, fiery response: “I’ve got four girls who can do exactly what your boys can do — but they look better doing it.”

Brown’s mother, Debbie, was equally influential. A woman who married into the dairy life without a farming background, she quickly became the heartbeat of the operation. Brown’s mother scraped stalls with one baby on her hip, proving the dairy doesn’t care about your title — it cares about the work.

(Photos provided by Kyndra Brown)

The Psychology of the Parlor

Like many farm kids, Brown hit a point in her late teens where she wondered if there was more to life than the 2:00 AM alarm and the constant smell of silage. She left the farm to study psychology, fascinated by human behavior and emotion. For two years, she immersed herself in the “why” of people.

But the call of the land is a physical one.

“I went back to what I know,” she says. “And it was the family dairy.”

For eight years straight after school, Brown didn’t just manage; she labored. She milked, she pushed cows and she cleaned pens. In an era where people struggle to hit 10,000 steps a day, Brown was regularly clocking 22,000 steps before lunch. That season of physical intensity was her true education. It gave her the boots on the ground perspective no textbook could provide.

Today, that background in psychology serves her in ways she never expected. Whether she’s managing employees, navigating family dynamics or communicating with concerned consumers on social media, she understands the human element behind the milk check.

This unique blend of mental insight and physical endurance has shaped her philosophy on the industry: resilience is more than a trait — it’s a prerequisite for growth. Brown has learned the dairy industry’s most valuable lessons are often disguised as failures, turning every challenge into a stepping stone for refinement. By embracing the struggle rather than fearing it, she maintains a competitive edge that keeps her operation moving forward. As she puts it, “Setbacks only exist to move you further than the next person who is trying less.”

(Images provided by Kyndra Brown)

Old School Grit Meets New School Tech

The Moo View Dairy operation in Dublin, Texas, is currently a fascinating study in the dairy margin revolution, so to speak. Brown sits at the intersection of her father’s old school wisdom and the industry’s technological future.

Her father still operates with a pen and a notebook.

“Actually, hundreds of them,” Brown shares, noting he has a paper record of every cow, every calf and every health event stretching back 30 years. “‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ is his mantra.”

Brown respects that history, but as an elite operator, she knows data is the key to the modern margin. She has introduced activity monitoring systems like CowManager tags.

“Technology is a great side kick,” Brown explains. “It fills the gaps. It tells me if a cow’s temperature is rising before I can see it with my own eyes.”

She also adds she will never overlook boots-on-the-ground value.

“I want to see it, smell it and hear it for myself,” she says.

(Images provided by Kyndra Brown)

Starbucks Partnership & Sustainability

This commitment to the future recently led Moo View Dairy into a high-level sustainability partnership with Starbucks. By prioritizing cow comfort and resource recycling — specifically repurposing lagoon water for flush systems and manure for crop nutrients — Brown is ensuring the operation remains as efficient as it is productive.

In May 2025, the farm qualified for tier two of the Starbucks Sustainable Dairy Program. This achievement unlocked a cost-share initiative currently being used to install advanced sand and manure separators. Slated to be fully operational by September, these systems represent a significant leap in waste management. The project will allow the dairy to recycle all sand used for cow bedding and modernize their recycled water flush system for cleaning freestalls and pens, creating a closed-loop system that bolsters both the environment and the bottom line.

(Images provided by Kyndra Brown)

Fashionable in Manure:

Perhaps Brown’s most visible impact is through her social media presence and her seat on the Dairy MAX board. She is intentionally “fashionable in manure,” a phrase that sounds like a joke but carries a serious message.

“I get comments all the time underestimating me because of my outfit,” she says with a laugh. “Since when does an outfit determine my capability to show up?”

By documenting her life on YouTube and Instagram, Brown is bridging the gap between grocery store and the dairy farm, or ‘teat to table’ as she likes to call it. She shows the 2:00 a.m. wake-up calls, the extensive labor that goes into cow care and the sophisticated science of milk production. With her approach to providing education and entertainment, she isn’t trying to sell a product; she’s trying to enlighten a consumer base that has become disconnected from its food source.

Her message to the next generation of women in agriculture is simple: “When in doubt, lead.”

“If you have an opportunity for experience, take it. If you have a question, ask it. It’s not a competition,” she says. “It’s teamwork for humanity to help feed the world. There are plenty of things we have to do alone in life; learning from each other in the world of agriculture shouldn’t be one of them.”

(Images provided by Kyndra Brown)

Full-Circle Life Moment

Now in her early 30s, with a husband, Cody, who has since joined the family dairy operation, and their four-year-old son, Brown’s life has come full circle.

“It’s a lifestyle you have to see to appreciate,” she says. “It’s hard to express that to people who just see it as a job. For us, it’s a partnership between the animals and the land.”

Kyndra Brown may always be “Peewee” to her father, but she has firmly established herself as a female dairy farmer who has made a name for herself on her own terms. She serves as a living reminder that the “Made in the USA” label is far more than a geographic marker; it is a testament to the people who possess the courage to evolve, the grit to work and the unique style to make the hardest days look effortless. By blending her family’s deep-rooted legacy with a modern, innovative vision, she isn’t just maintaining a dairy — she is building a durable future for the next generation.

The Cream Rises in West Alabama: The Return of Circle J Dairy

Tue, 14 Apr 2026 13:07:04 GMT

In the quiet, gently rolling landscape of Gordo, Ala., the rhythmic hum of a dairy parlor had been absent for nearly three decades. For 27 years, the Junkin family acreage held the memories of a lifestyle that seemed to have vanished with the closing of the twentieth century. But in 2022, that silence was finally broken. The cows are back, the bottles are filling and a new generation is proving the dairy industry in west Alabama isn’t just a part of the past; it is a vibrant, thriving part of the future.

The story of Circle J Dairy is a powerful homecoming — a narrative of a legacy interrupted, a family’s resilience and a bold reimagining of what it means to be a dairy farmer in the 21^st century.

A Legacy Interrupted

The roots of Circle J run deep into the Alabama soil, stretching back to 1956. That was the year Ralph Junkin Sr. — known to his family as “Papa” — started milking cows at just 19 years old. He began with a small herd in a little white flat barn that still stands today, a silent witness to the generations that followed.

For nearly 40 years, the Junkin family lived by the clock of the dairy. Jessica Vails’ father, Ralph Junkin Jr., was born 10 years into that journey and grew up with the barn as his classroom. After attending Mississippi State in the 1980s, Ralph Jr. returned to the home place to work alongside his father. At its peak, the original operation milked 200 cows, shipping bulk milk commercially.

However, the mid-1990s brought a perfect storm of low milk prices and rising costs. In 1995, just one year before Jessica and her twin brother, Seth, were born, the family was forced to sell the herd. It was an economic decision, but an emotional tragedy.

“My dad says that was the worst day of their lives,” Vails recalls. “They didn’t want to sell. They loved it. For my papa, everything revolved around those cows.”

The cows left, but the land remained. For nearly 30 years, the Junkins focused on poultry and beef cattle, but the “dairy itch” never truly went away. Papa passed away in 2011, never seeing a Holstein or Jersey return to the home place, but his spirit remained the foundation for what was to come.

(Photos provided by Circle J Dairy)

The Spark of Reinvention

Vails grew up with the stories of the dairy, but she never expected to be the one to bring it back. While a junior at Mississippi State majoring in agricultural communications, she was at a crossroads. She knew she wanted a career in agriculture, and the lingering tug at returning to her roots pulled deeper and deeper.

Vails’ lightbulb moment came when she read about a woman who had started a direct-to-consumer dairy. She realized the reason her grandfather had been forced out wasn’t a lack of passion — it was a lack of control over the margin.

“We decided that if we were going to do this, we weren’t going to be at the mercy of the bulk milk market,” Vails says. “We were going to be the processors. We were going to own the whole chain.”

This was the birth of the vertical integration model for Circle J. Instead of getting big, they decided to get personal.

Building the All-in-One Dream

The transition to a professional creamery was a family marathon. From July 2021 to December 2022, the family moved dirt and laid the foundation for an all-in-one facility. Under a single roof, they built a modern milking parlor, a state-of-the-art processing plant and a cute farm store.

They started small, milking just 14 cows — mostly Jerseys for their high component levels and rich cream, with a few Holsteins in the mix. But the community’s hunger for local milk was something they underestimated.

“We started selling to the public on Jan. 1, 2023,” Vails says. “We had five delivery spots lined up, and we quickly realized 14 cows wasn’t going to cut it. We had to keep buying cows just to keep up with the demand.”

Today, the herd has grown to nearly 60 head, and Circle J milk can be found in 22 grocery stores, including local Piggly Wigglys, as well as five coffee shops and four restaurants.

(Photos provided by Circle J Dairy)

The Cream-Line Difference

What makes the Circle J product so special is the commitment to traditional quality. Their milk is not homogenized; it is cream-line milk, where the cream naturally rises to the top.

“Our milk is as pure as you can get,” Vails explains. “Most people like it better than other brands of milk the grocery stores have to offer because ours is vat pasteurized at only 145°F and not homogenized. It also reminds them what real milk used to taste like.”

The farm store opens its doors every Saturday from 2:00 p.m. to 5:00 p.m. Customers don’t just buy milk, chocolate milk and ice cream; they watch the process. Through a large viewing window in the parlor, families watch the cows being milked into glass weight jars — vintage equipment Ralph Jr. salvaged from old dairies to maintain a connection to the past.

A Family’s Resilience

The return of dairy to Circle J Dairy is a true family affair. Vails’ father helps with the cow side of the business – breeding, herd health and record keeping – and her mother serves as foreman of the creamery, as well as helping milk, too. Vails’ husband is also a huge part, lending a helping hand with milking, delivering milk and feeding calves.

“My mom handles the pasteurizing and the ice cream recipes — dutch chocolate, vanilla bean, and butter pecan. I handle the marketing, the labeling and the milking, as well as help with milk deliveries. It takes every one of us to make this operation work,” Vails says.

Watching it all is two-year-old Lula, the fifth generation. Sporting rubber boots, she is already learning the “shoo” of the cows and the rhythm of the parlor. For Vails, seeing Lula in the barn is the ultimate full-circle moment.

“Seeing the next generation learn what we do on a daily basis is the coolest thing ever,” she says. “Lula loves to help feed the bottle calves and help in the milking parlor.”

(Photos provided by Circle J Dairy)

Reclaimed Legacy

As Circle J Dairy looks toward the future, the goal remains the same: clarity and control. By processing their own product and selling it directly to their neighbors, they have bulletproofed their legacy against the volatility that took their cows away in 1995.

Vails is now the face of dairy in a region that had nearly forgotten what a local milk bottle looked like. She has bridged the gap between her grandfather’s flat milking barn and a modern, tech-forward creamery.

“I think Papa would be down here every single day if he were still with us,” Vails says. “He’d be giving advice and probably trying to help us milk. I just hope we’re making him proud by keeping the roots alive in a new way.”

In Gordo, Ala., the silence has been replaced by the sound of progress. Circle J Dairy isn’t just selling milk; they are selling a return to the land, a connection to the community and the enduring power of a family that refused to let their heritage fade away.

“My dad always says: ‘Just do your best, work hard and it’ll all be fine,’” she says. “We all still try our best to stick to that advice daily, too.”

Navigating the Pulse of Global Dairy: Five Years, Three Continents and One Unwavering Mission

Fri, 10 Apr 2026 13:47:00 GMT

Five years ago, I stepped into the role of dairy brand leader for Farm Journal and editor of Dairy Herd Management and MILK Business Quarterly magazines. I remember the weight of that moment — the realization that I wasn’t just taking over a masthead; I was becoming a steward of the stories that define the U.S. dairy farmer.

Married to a dairy farmer myself, I didn’t come to this desk from an ivory tower. I came to it with the smell of silage on my jacket, mud on my boots and the reality of a fluctuating milk check in my bank account. My mission was simple, yet daunting: to provide the news producers need to survive, the features that honor their grit and the service journalism that helps them thrive in a margin revolution.

Looking back over the last 1,825 days, the dairy landscape has shifted beneath our feet. We’ve moved from talking about pounds of milk to the protein drive behind the milk check and beef-on-dairy becoming a major driver to our bottom-line. We’ve navigated global pandemics, bird flu outbreaks and a technological explosion that has turned the traditional barn into a data center. Through it all, my goal has remained the same: to be the voice that stands in the gap between the breaking news and the barn floor.

The Vision of a Girl Dad

Decades ago, when I was just 15 years old, my late father sat me down for a bit of career counseling. At the time, I was incredibly annoyed by it. He looked at me with that knowing glint in his eye and said, “K, I can see you driving a taxicab or writing for a national dairy magazine.”

I remember rolling my eyes, thinking those were two of the most disparate paths a person could take. But now, pushing 50 and with my dad gone for a decade, I find myself becoming misty-eyed. I realize he saw a vision in me long before I had the clarity to see it in myself. My dad knew two things about me: I could talk to absolutely anyone, and I had dairy in my DNA.

Today, I realize my job is actually a perfect hybrid of his two suggestions. I am a writer, yes, but I’ve spent the last five years as a “taxi driver” for the stories of the U.S. dairy farmer, logging thousands of miles to ensure their voices reach the destination they deserve.

The View from the Road

If you want to know the pulse of the dairy industry, you can’t find it behind an office desk. You find it in the humidity of a Florida morning, the high-altitude winds of Colorado and the quiet, rolling hills of the Oregon countryside.

This past year alone has been a whirlwind of boots on the ground journalism. My calendar hasn’t just been a schedule; it’s been a road map of the industry’s evolution. From high-level policy discussions at the IDFA Dairy Forum in Palm Springs to the sheer scale of the World Ag Expo in Tulare, I’ve seen the macro-trends taking shape. I’ve traveled across western Kansas, witnessed the explosive growth in the High Plains of Texas, felt the infectious energy of the next generation at YDLI in Tampa and walked the grounds of World Dairy Expo in Madison. To cap it all off, I’ve stood in the neon glow of Las Vegas for the Milk Business Conference — Farm Journal’s powerhouse event where the industry’s elite gather to navigate the complexities of the modern dairy business.

My passport has collected a few stamps, as I’ve traveled to the countryside of Ireland, central Chile and Paris to talk with global dairy leaders and producers who have opened their barn doors to me.

For me, the highlights have always been the moments I’ve put on my boots to tour a barn and visit with producers. Learning about their struggles, identifying their opportunities and listening to their passion is where I feel most at home. Regardless of where I am representing Farm Journal, my mission remains the same: find the story, vet the facts and serve the producer. As my boss often reminds me: “Cut through the noise.”

The Road Ahead

Five years in, I realize my father was right. I am a writer, and in a way, I am a driver. I drive the narrative. I drive the conversation. And occasionally, I drive a rental car through a downpour along the I-29 corridor in South Dakota to make sure I don’t miss a single interview.

Thank you to the producers who have opened their farm gates to me from Idaho to Ireland. To the readers who rely on Dairy Herd Management and MILK Business Quarterly to make sense of a volatile world: I do not take your trust lightly.

The dairy industry is in a state of constant evolution, but the grit of the people remains unchanged. As I look toward the next five years, I promise to keep my boots in the manure and my hands on the keyboard. I might have been annoyed by my father’s advice at 15, but at this milestone, I am nothing but grateful. My dad knew the world needs people who can tell the story of the land — and I’m honored to be the one behind the wheel.

The World Needs More McArthurs

Mon, 06 Apr 2026 19:26:55 GMT

There’s a new song in country music that’s striking a chord with American farm families.

“McArthur,” sung by Hardy, Eric Church, Morgan Wallen and Tim McGraw, tells the story of a farm passed through four generations of the same family. Each verse introduces a new McArthur, carrying the land forward in his own time, shaped by different circumstances but tied to the same piece of ground.

That’s the same story many farmers are living today. And if you haven’t heard it yet, take a listen.

John McArthur

The song begins with John McArthur, a man working the land with a mule and a plow to provide for his family. As the first generation, John spends his days laying the foundation of the farm. He doesn’t know what the future holds for the operation, but he knows the work is worth it.

Every farm has this first generation: the person who gave the farm its start. Our grandparents or great-grandparents built the farm out of necessity without knowing what was ahead.

They planted the first crops, cleared the first fields and figured things out as they went. The decisions they made might not have seemed big at the time, but they laid the groundwork for the generations that followed. Even without a map, they knew the farm was something worth building and passing on.

Junior McArthur

Next comes Junior McArthur, the son who steps up to take over the farm but is sent off to war and never returns home.

He represents the second generation: the ones who take over a farm that’s already established but face challenges much different from what their parents experienced. Where John built the foundation, Junior inherits it and has to figure out how to keep it going.

Jones McArthur

After Junior comes Jones McArthur, the third generation to farm the same ground. By the time it’s his turn, the farm is running smoother, but the problems he’s dealing with aren’t the same ones his dad faced. He represents the generation trying to respect what was built while figuring out how to make it work in a more modern world.

In the song, Jones is also the one trying to pass along the lessons he learned growing up on the farm. He understands the value of the land and the work that went into building it, and he tries to teach his son the same thing.

But his son comes home from college seeing something different. Where Jones sees a family history, his son sees the dollar signs tied to the land.

Hunter McArthur

Finally, the song introduces Hunter McArthur. He’s the fourth generation, the one now standing in front of the decision many farms eventually face.

In the lyrics, Hunter is presented with a deal that would turn the farm into a neighborhood. It’s a tempting offer. After generations of hard work, the land is suddenly worth a lot of money.

Hunter represents the generation many farms are looking to today. The farm is established and the land has significant value, but the question becomes what to do with it next.

For many young farmers, this generation faces a different set of decisions from the ones before them. They have more opportunities off the farm and often more outside pressure pulling them in different directions. At the same time, they’re inheriting or buying into farms that have decades of work behind them.

A Familiar Tune

At the end of each generation’s part in the song, a line is sung: “When you pass on, what are you going to pass down?”

Farming has always been about passing things along. Each generation takes what the last one started and tries to make it better, but that chain only works if someone is willing to take the next link.

Today, the pressures on the next generation are real. Land values keep climbing, development keeps pushing farther into the countryside, and, for some families, the offer to sell the farm is hard to pass up. But most farms exist because someone in the previous generation chose to keep it going. They made improvements and worked through challenges with the idea that the farm would be there for the next generation to build on.

The world could use more farmers like the McArthurs. So, when it’s time to think about the next generation, ask yourself this: When you pass on, what are you going to pass down?

For more on succession planing, read:

Carving a New Path: How Wisconsin Native Transforms Cheddar into a Canvas for Dairy Advocacy

Thu, 26 Mar 2026 17:01:01 GMT

Most people look at a 40 lb. block of cheddar and see an ingredient. Vicki Janisch sees a canvas and a way to stay rooted in dairy, even after her family stepped away from milking cows.

In the last few years, the Wisconsin native has built a one‑of‑a‑kind career as a professional cheese carver. Her work has shown up at weddings, college sports announcements, major dairy events and even tied into the NFL Draft.

But if you ask her, it’s less about the spotlight and more about staying connected to the industry that shaped her.

The Day Carving Found Her

The idea first took shape during a normal day at the office. Janisch was working at Dairy Farmers of Wisconsin when Sarah Kaufmann, a skilled cheese carver from California, stopped in to carve for a project.

Curious about how it all worked, Janisch asked if she could come over and see the process for herself. Watching the carving up close stopped her in her tracks. Seeing the tools, the technique and the transformation from a simple block of cheese into a detailed sculpture lit a spark inside her that she couldn’t quite shake.

“I fan girled hard,” Janisch says with a laugh. “I was just in awe of what she could do and what she starts with. I thought, ‘This is the coolest thing ever! You get to carve cheese?’ I mean, cheese already tastes good, but now you get to put your artistic spin on it. That’s sounds like the best job in the world.”

Watching Kaufmann work, Janisch began asking all sorts of questions: What tools do you use? What cheese do you use? How do you turn this into a business?

After a steady stream of questions, Kaufmann smiled and offered a simple solution.

“[Sarah] goes, ‘Well, why don’t you come and carve with me tomorrow?’” Janisch recalls. “It was my birthday, and I had already taken the day off. So, I thought, ‘Yeah, why not? I’ll go.’”

The next day, Janisch spent several hours carving alongside Kaufmann and quickly realized how absorbing the craft could be.

“You can really lose track of time when you’re doing it,” Janisch says. “It’s such a fun medium to work with, and I loved just getting the chance to try it for myself.”

That night, she went home and ordered her own tools.

“I didn’t really tell anybody that I was doing it,” Janisch laughs. “I just wanted to carve for fun. I ordered some clay carving tools off Amazon and played around with some cheese I had in the fridge. I had no idea it was going to escalate as quickly as it did.”

(Photo Provided By Vicki Janisch)

A Carving Career Takes Shape

After that first experience, carving became something she kept returning to. Before long, friends and family started to hear about her new hobby. One of those conversations turned into an unexpected opportunity.

“A friend of mine came to me and said, ‘Hey, I know you’ve been doing this. Do you want to do my niece’s wedding? Would you be up for making a cheese wedding cake?’” Janisch remembers. “And I’m like, as my first project, this sounds awesome. But I have no idea what I’m doing.”

After saying yes, she sourced a 40 lb. block of cheddar and some wheels and built a tiered cheese “cake.” The display quickly became a major hit with guests and showed Janisch just how much excitement a carved cheese centerpiece could bring to an event.

(Vicki Janisch)

“As things kind of progressed and friends and families started hearing what I did, I started to get more requests,” Janisch says. “It was all through word of mouth, and the list of projects continued to grow.”

As more projects came her way, Janisch’s late-night hobby grew into something bigger, and with it came a larger time commitment. After a while, it became clear if Janisch wanted to keep carving, she would need to make some changes.

A Leap of Faith and an LLC

“Two years ago, I made a big leap of faith and decided I needed to change my routine,” Janisch says. “I have two really active kids who I wanted to spend more time with, and I was ready to create a new path for myself.”

After some reflection, Janisch left her 9-to-5 job to launch her own business, Janisch Creative, where she works as a creative and digital communications director. That change gave her the flexibility she needed while staying connected to communications, and her cheese carving business became the creative outlet that balanced everything else.

Originally, when she made the big jump, she promised her husband the cheese carving projects would stay small. But now, she jokes her definition of small has changed.

“I told him, ‘It won’t get out of hand.’ But I think our perspective of small keeps changing,” she laughs. “But it’s been so fun doing all of this as a family. Having my kids around to see what their mom can do has been pretty cool.”

(Vicki Janisch)

Respect for the Product

Janisch now runs her cheese carving business with a producer’s mindset: Respect the product, respect the people behind it and don’t waste what they’ve made.

“When you think about the craftsmanship that goes into cheese, it’s already so good on its own,” she says. “And then I’m blessed to be able to put my creative spin and artistic stamp on it.”

But it also means she has to carefully manage the product to keep the cheese fresh. That started with her first business purchase.

“My first business expense was a refrigerator,” she laughs. “Most Midwesterners have a beer fridge. We have a cheese fridge, and it’s stacked with insane amounts of cheese just waiting to be carved.”

While carving the cheese, she also had to figure out what to do with the scraps. It was her firm belief nothing should go to waste.

(Vicki Janisch)

“When I’m carving for an event, I’ll box up some of the scraps for people to eat on a charcuterie board or for the company to utilize,” she says. “But if I’m doing a living carving, those scraps can’t be eaten. So, I bring them back home and feed them to my chickens.”

Of course, mistakes still happen, and sometimes a piece of the sculpture doesn’t turn out as planned. Luckily, the cheese makes for a tasty medium to work with.

“If I mess up, we eat it,” she laughs. “There is no waste. We just have grilled cheese for a month.”

As her carving career continues to grow, Janisch has made a point to stay connected to the local cheese crafters who inspire part of her work.

“I’ve made it a really solid goal to work with cheese companies in Wisconsin,” she says. “I worked with over 20 cheese companies last year, and I’ve gotten to form personal relationships with those who are making the cheese.”

Those relationships have also helped her learn an important lesson. When it comes to carving, the type of cheese matters just as much as the design.

(Vicki Janisch)

Her Favorites

Even after years of experience, not every cheese behaves the same. Different textures and inclusions means Janisch has to adjust her approach.

“There are some cheeses that are more difficult to work with than others, but I just have to adjust how I handle it,” she says. “The tools I use are different for different cheeses. For some of the flavored cheeses, like pepper jack, where there’s items mixed in, you have to handle things differently.”

That’s where her relationships with Wisconsin cheese makers becomes critical. Texture, moisture and aging all influence whether a design holds its shape or begins to crumble.

“Cheese makers can make low moisture and aged cheeses. But if they’re aged too long, they don’t work as well for carving,” she explains. “I’ve found my sweet spot is usually a 90-day aged cheddar.”

Having conversations with cheese makers allows her to plan each project with the right product from the start.

“Because these cheese makers have it so dialed in, we can talk the science behind the cheese that I need. I’m not having to source just a random block of cheddar. I can go and find cheeses that I know are going to hold up for the project.”

Fortunately, Janisch has yet to meet a cheese she doesn’t like and is willing to give just about anything a try.

“Blue cheese is on my bucket list,” she laughs. “But I don’t think I’m ready to chase after it just yet.”

Over time, finding her favorites has become less about a single variety and more about matching the right cheese to the right project. Whatever the choice, she’s thinking about both the carver and the consumer.

(Vicki Janisch)

Connecting Farmers, Cheese and Consumers

While cheese carving has become a new adventure for Janisch, her connection to the dairy industry runs deep. She grew up on her family’s dairy farm in southern Wisconsin, participating in 4‑H and showing animals at local fairs. That hands‑on experience and dirty‑boot roots instilled in her a natural sense of advocacy and a pride in the industry that now helps her connect with consumers through her cheese carving.

“I love having the opportunity to tie it back to the farmers,” she says. “Growing up on a dairy farm, I understand that once you ship milk, it becomes products like cheese. But a lot of times, farmers don’t talk about what happens after that.”

For Janisch, that connection between the farm and the finished product is an important part of the story she hopes her work helps tell.

“Consumers want to know that they’re supporting dairy farmers, and they do that through the products those farmers help produce. I can talk to consumers about the farmers, the cheese and the cheese makers,” Janisch explains. “It’s one thing to be able to talk about cheese carving, but I’m able to tell more of the dairy story when I go to some of these events.

Her role, as she sees it, is to bridge the gap between the people who make the milk and the people who enjoy the finished product. And even though her family no longer milks cows every day, Janisch says cheese carving keeps her anchored to a larger purpose.

“This lets me be part of something bigger than myself,” she says. “When we were dairy farming, it wasn’t just about our farm, it was part of a larger story. Cheese carving helps me stay connected to that.”

(Photos Provided By Vicki Janisch)

Craft and Connection

Today, when Janisch picks up her carving tools, she’s doing more than shaping cheese — she’s celebrating the craftsmanship behind the product and the farmers who make it possible.

Her client list now reads like a seasoned professional’s portfolio rather than a hobbyist’s. Some of her standout creations include:

The Lombardi Trophy for the 2025 NFL Draft
The University of Wisconsin Men’s Basketball schedule
Musical notes for events at the Grammys
Showpieces for state food festivals
Custom carvings for major industry events

What began as curiosity has grown into a creative way to stay connected to the industry that shaped her.

“I never would have imagined that any of this was possible,” Janisch says. “But I leaned into the power of saying ‘yes.’ And it’s been the most amazing journey.”

And with every block of cheese she transforms into something special, Janisch knows she’s helping tell a story that starts long before the carving ever begins.

The Grace of the Stillness: A Lesson in Healing

Fri, 20 Mar 2026 13:07:39 GMT

In the span of just two weeks, the rhythm of my life was violently disrupted, replaced by a forced stillness that I never saw coming. It began on the evening of February 27, when a black truck turned left directly into my vehicle’s path. The impact was high-velocity and terrifying, painting my mid-section with a map of deep purple contusions and bruising that stretched from hip to hip. But as I sat in the quiet aftermath of deployed airbags and twisted metal, my physical pain was eclipsed by a profound sense of luck. My husband and I walked away. We were alive. We were discharged to go home. The script of that night could have been written very differently, and we knew it.

However, survival was only the first chapter. Just a few days later, I moved from the trauma of the near-fatal accident into the sterile reality of a planned surgery — one that carried a daunting eight-week recovery timeline. Suddenly, the woman who is used to directing the flow of a busy household and a demanding career found herself anchored to a bed, restricted by a 10 lb. lifting limit and the heavy fog of pain medication and fatigue.

Then, as if to test the very limits of my resolve, the sky turned white. A spring blizzard swept across the farm, bringing with it the biting wind and heavy snow that demands every hand on deck. From my window, I watched the world turn cold while my home hummed with a different kind of energy. Because it was spring break, all of my children were home. And because of the elements that Mother Nature graced us with, they were outside, plowing snow, bedding calf huts and taking over the extra chores that define farm life in a storm.

The Weight of the “Mind Over Matter” Mantra

As I watched them, a heavy, suffocating sense of guilt filled the room. I wanted to be out there. I wanted to be of service, to be the one hauling the buckets or — at the very least — the one standing over a hot stove preparing a meal for the exhausted crew coming in from the cold. Growing up on a farm, often we are raised on a steady mantra “mind over matter.” Farm women are legendary for their toughness. We are the ones who push through the flu, the ones who work until the job is done, the ones who equate our value with our productivity.

But as I lay there, sore and exhausted, I realized my toughness was being called upon in a way I hadn’t practiced before. I had to learn the foreign concept of extending grace to myself.

Strength Through Grace

I had to understand rest isn’t a lapse in character. It is a required ingredient for a future of service. To truly lead my family and my community, I had to lead by example in the art of self-care. I had to embrace the season of stillness I was in, allowing my body and mind to knit themselves back together. I had to accept that for this brief moment in time, the most productive thing I could do was to kick my feet up and sleep.

It is so much easier said than done. It feels like a betrayal of our nature to let others wait on us. Yet there is a sacredness in allowing those you have spent your life serving to serve you in return. It allows them to grow, and it allows you to heal.

If you find yourself in a season where you are doing “less,” please listen to your body and your doctor. Do not mistake rest for weakness. Whether you are recovering from a literal collision or the metaphorical storms of life, remember the farm will stand, the chores will get done, the farm family will manage to find something to eat and the world will keep turning. Allow yourself the grace to be still. For once, let the help come to you. Because in the end, that is the only way we truly heal.

Don’t Push Pause: How a Near-Fatal Accident Made Our Farm Succession Plan Crystal Clear

Thu, 05 Mar 2026 14:57:34 GMT

The last Friday in February was supposed to be a victory lap for a winter well-spent. It was a rare 65°F gift from the Illinois sky. The kind of afternoon where the sun feels like a promise of the spring to come.

My husband, Scott, and our youngest son, Jacob, spent the afternoon moving cattle between sites. It’s a project that usually takes three or four hours, and as any farmer knows, the cattle rarely cooperate. But Jacob did. He was right there, shoulder-to-shoulder with his dad. Our oldest son, Tyler, was home from college for the weekend, helping on the dairy with cattle work. It was one of those perfect, productive days where everyone was basking in the sunshine, the rhythm of the farm moving in a steady, beautiful cadence.

When the clock hit 5:00 p.m., Scott was ready to call it a day. Our local high school boys’ basketball team had made it to regionals, and we wanted to be there to cheer them on. We climbed into our SUV, chatting about the chores we’d finished and enjoying the lingering warmth of the day.

We were only a mile from our farm when the world shattered.

It happened in a blink. A truck made a mad dash across the four-lane highway, blindsiding us. There was no time to swerve, no time to brake. The police report would later confirm what we already knew: there was nothing we could have done.

Everyone tells you that life can change in a split second, but until you are sitting in the wreckage of mangled steel, surrounded by a dozen deployed airbags and the smell of gunpowder and dust, you don’t truly understand it. As we hit, I felt the impact vibrate through my very bones. I immediately started to pray. “We will be okay. God, make us okay.”

Through the haze of smoke and shock, Scott’s voice was the only thing I could hear. He was a trooper, his own safety forgotten.

“Karen, are you okay?” he asked, over and over.

I wanted to scream that I was fine. I wanted to tell him I was right there. But the shock was a physical weight. My mouth opened, a moan escaped, but the words were trapped behind a wall of trauma. I couldn’t speak.

The rest of the evening was a blur of sirens, flashing lights and the sterile white walls of the ER. The ambulance took me away; the tow truck took what was left of our vehicle. We spent the night under fluorescent lights, but we walked away. We got to go home.

In the days that followed, a deep, heavy appreciation for life settled over our house. I am thankful to be writing this story, though I would give anything to have never lived it. But the most emotional moment didn’t happen at the crash site; it happened at our farm.

(Karen Bohnert)

Our children asked the question every farm kid fears: “What would happen if both of you had passed?”

I cried. But for the first time, I could answer them with certainty. I told them about the will. I told them it was all outlined, all documented. It took me losing both of my parents and my brother — and writing about other families’ succession plans gone wrong for years — before we finally sat down and finalized our own a decade ago.

I think back to my own parents. It took them losing their own son — my brother — in an automobile accident to finally lean forward and be brave enough to talk about their own will. They put a plan together soon after and revised it a few times over the years. When the time came that we eventually lost our parents, my sisters and I were so incredibly thankful we did not have to worry about the logistics during our grief. My parents had it all documented. They gave us that peace of mind.

Farmers, I am pleading with you: Don’t push pause.

Don’t wait for a sunny day to have the conversation. Or a rain day. The highway doesn’t care about your schedule. Don’t wait because it’s an uncomfortable conversation; it will never get easier. Don’t wait because you aren’t sure what is “fair” or what is “best.”

Start the conversation today. Meet with a lawyer. Get it documented. You can always change and revise it — we already have once since we started.

I am so incredibly thankful that today, my kids are out in the dirt helping on the farm instead of sitting in a lawyer’s office reading a will. I am thankful they didn’t lose their parents on an Illinois highway. But mostly, I am thankful that if the worst had happened, they wouldn’t have been left in the dark.

Don’t wait. Your legacy is too important to leave to chance.

Leading Through the Storm: How This Mother of Three Navigated a Dairy Transition Alone

Wed, 04 Mar 2026 13:25:07 GMT

In the quiet rolling hills of Franklin County, Pa., near the small town of Newburg, the hum of a dairy farm usually signals the steady rhythm of a dream realized. But a year and a half ago, that rhythm was shattered in an instant. For Kerri Weber, co-owner of Rustik Dairy LLC, a routine day of hoof trimming ended not with the satisfaction of a job well done, but with a frantic 911 call and a prognosis that offered almost no hope.

Her husband, Rob, had suffered a Grade 5 subarachnoid brain aneurysm — the most severe type of rupture possible. As the surgeon told Weber that first night: “All we can do is pray.” She made a silent, steely vow: she was bringing him home.

What followed is a story of perseverance that defines the modern woman in agriculture. It is a story of a first-generation farm built from scratch, a business transition finalized in an ICU waiting room, and a community that proved the dairy industry is less of a business and more of a family.

(Photos Provided By Rustik Dairy LLC)

From the Ground Up

Kerri and Rob Weber didn’t inherit their legacy — they rented it, one barn at a time. Both grew up with a passion for cows — meeting, fittingly, while showing cattle — but starting a dairy from scratch in the 21^st century is a feat many call impossible.

“You’re not going to start at the top,” Weber reflects.

For eight years, the couple operated as nomadic dairymen, renting tie-stall facilities and moving their growing herd as opportunities arose. They lived by a strict philosophy: You have to go through all four seasons before you make a judgment call. They crunched numbers on $16 milk and $20 milk, knowing their break-even points by heart.

Their break came when they returned to the farm where Rob had worked as a teenager. They entered a partnership with brothers Wayne and Brad Beidel. It was a phased transition — a lifeline for a young couple looking for a permanent home for their Holstein, Jersey and Brown Swiss cattle. By the time the first brother, Wayne, retired, Rustik Dairy LLC was formed. They were four years into the second phase of the transition when the world stopped turning.

107 Days of Uncertainty

The day of the injury was like any other until Rob walked into the barn office, spoke Weber’s name, and collapsed. While he lay in a coma for four weeks, Weber’s life became a grueling marathon. She was the mother of three young children at the time — twins who were only 18 months old and a five-year-old daughter.

For 107 days, Weber balanced the sterile silence of hospital hallways with the demanding noise of a 180-cow dairy. She stayed by Rob’s side for nearly every one of those days, yet she never let the farm slip. She did morning milkings when she could, managed the books from hospital chairs and coordinated a team of part-time help that stepped up to become full-time heroes.

“One day at a time” became her motto.

“One day was one more day that I kept Rob alive,” she says.

The Choice in the ICU

Perhaps the most defining moment of Weber’s strength occurred four weeks into Rob’s stay in the ICU. The second partner, Brad, was ready to finalize his retirement. Weber was faced with a choice that would break most people: sell the cows and walk away to focus on her family, or sign the papers to buy out the partnership and take over the entire operation alone.

She chose the farm.

“I was convinced he was coming home,” Weber says. “And I knew he couldn’t come home to an empty barn. He needed something to fight for. If the farm was gone, he wouldn’t have that fight anymore.”

A week after Rob finally returned home, Weber officially took over the management of the entire dairy. She became the sole decision-maker, the lead manager and the primary caregiver for both her husband and their children.

(Photos Provided By Rustik Dairy LLC)

A Miracle in the Barn

Today, Rustik Dairy is not just surviving; it is thriving. The herd of 180 cows is averaging 24,000 pounds of milk with 1,000 pounds of fat and 800 pounds of protein — a remarkable feat given that 40% of the herd consists of color breeds.

But the real success is measured in the small moments. Rob is a walking medical miracle. Though he faces mental challenges, fatigue and the need for ongoing surgeries, he is back on the farm. Weber has integrated technology to help him navigate his new reality. They installed the Topcon feed app, which uses color-coded scales and sounds to help Rob mix feed — a task he once did by memory but now performs with the help of digital eyes.

“Farmers don’t forget what they’re doing,” Weber notes. “It’s muscle memory. He can still drive a tractor better than I can.”

To make life more manageable, Weber moved the calf-raising operation. They built a new calf barn right outside the house so the children can play among the hutches while Weber and Rob work. It allows the family to stay together, fulfilling the dream they had before the accident: raising their children in the barn.

The Power of the Dairy Community

When Kerri reflects on the past year and half, she doesn’t just talk about the struggle; she talks about the silver linings. She speaks of the Amish and Mennonite neighbors who showed up to feed calves without being asked. She speaks of the dairy community that sent diapers, clothing and two meals a week for over a year.

“You don’t have that anywhere else. That love and support... you don’t see that outside of the dairy community,” she says, noting the incredible importance of their families who pitched in from Day 1 to help in anyway they could. “We couldn’t do what we do without the support of our families.”

Even the farm’s nutritionists and veterinarians became part of the inner circle, understanding the “Rustik story” so well that Weber didn’t have to explain her weaknesses — they simply jumped in to fill the gaps.

Looking Forward: One Day at a Time

As spring approaches, the family continues to focus on gratitude. Weber continues to manage the herd with a focus on component growth and efficiency, but her primary objective remains unchanged: keeping the family together.

The journey hasn’t been easy. There are setbacks, like Rob’s shunt revision surgery, and the difficult mentalities that a brain injury can sometimes leave behind. But Weber finds joy in the simple things: a walk through the freestyle barn, the sight of their daughters holding bottles for calves, and the fact Rob is there to see it.

“I look at life differently now,” Weber says. “You don’t realize how quickly life can be taken for granted until it’s nearly gone. I’m just thankful for what I have today, even when the circumstances aren’t what I expected them to be.”

Kerri Weber is more than a dairy farmer. She is a testament to the fact that a farm is held together not just by fences and gates, but by the determined spirit of the women who refuse to let the dream die. At Rustik Dairy, the cows are milking, the children are growing and the miracle is just beginning.

The Man Behind the Lens: Why Alberto Dairy’s Biggest "Influencer" is a 77-Year-Old on a Tractor

Wed, 25 Feb 2026 12:30:00 GMT

In the heart of California’s Central Valley, where the golden haze of the sun meets the sprawling green of silage corn, a quiet but profound collision of worlds is taking place. For the tourists, corporate executives and social media influencers who visit Alberto Dairy in Stanislaus County, the draw is almost always the “new.” They come to see the 400,000 sq. ft. BioFiltro system — a high-tech marvel where millions of red wiggler worms silently process 1.7 million gallons of wastewater every single day.

They arrive with high-definition cameras, drones and a preconceived script of what a modern-scale dairy looks like. They expect a sterile, corporate-managed facility, perhaps something resembling a Silicon Valley startup but with more cows. They are prepared to document the future of farming — a world of sensors, carbon credits and automated precision.

But as the lenses focus and the drones take flight, the visitors almost always encounter a reality that doesn’t fit their digital storyboard. Just beyond the gleaming pipes and the meticulously managed worm beds, a 77-year-old man in a dusty cap is usually out in the field, expertly maneuvering a tractor to push dirt or level a lane.

That man is Antonio Alberto. And while the visitors are looking for the future, Alberto is the living embodiment of the foundation.

(Alberto Dairy)

The Corporate Myth Versus The Family Reality

“They think they’re going to show up to some big corporate facility,” says Anthony Agueda, the third-generation farmer who helps lead the dairy today. “But then, they look over and see my grandpa on a tractor, pushing feed as they drive by. That’s the biggest surprise they get — realizing this isn’t what they thought it was.”

The shock on the visitors’ faces is a testament to a widening gap in public perception. To many outside the industry, a modern dairy must be a faceless corporation. But in California, 97% of dairies remain family-owned, and Alberto Dairy is a prime example. The houses where the family live — Agueda, his parents, uncle, cousins and grandparents — are all within walking distance of one another. The corporate office is often a kitchen table where three generations debate the merits of new technology.

(Alberto Dairy)

When visitors see Alberto on his tractor, Agueda takes it as an opportunity to stop the tour and tell the real story. He tells them about the teenager who arrived from the Azores, a small group of Portuguese Islands, with nothing but a relentless work ethic. He describes a man who worked three jobs and went seven consecutive years without a single day off to save the money to buy his first cows.

“My grandpa hates leaving the dairy; it’s his life,” Agueda tells them. “He’s in a position where he doesn’t have to work on the dairy, but he still does. He’s out there because he loves it.”

(Alberto Dairy)

A Legacy That Can’t Be Filtered

The contrast is striking. On one side of the farm, millions of worms are managed by sensors that report nitrogen and phosphorus removal. On the other side, a man who started his career with a wheelbarrow and a pitchfork is still doing some of the heavy lifting.

This duality is the secret to Alberto Dairy’s success. The family isn’t adopting technology for the sake of being high-tech. They are doing it to protect the legacy Alberto built. The BioFiltro system, which reduces methane emissions by up to 90%, isn’t just a win for the environment — it’s a shield for the farm’s future. It allows the dairy to stay in California, a state with some of the strictest environmental regulations in the world, ensuring the fourth and fifth generations will have a home.

Agueda recalls the lightbulb moment when he realized the worms were the right path. They had traveled to Washington State to see a similar system, skeptical something so simple could handle the waste of thousands of cows.

“The owner held up a bucket of water before the system and a bucket after. I put my face right to it and couldn’t smell a thing,” he says. “It was clean.”

That simplicity — mimicking “God’s creation,” as Agueda puts it — is what won over the family. It wasn’t a complex mechanical system that could break down and require a team of specialized engineers to fix. It was a natural, gravity-fed system that aligned with the “keep it simple” philosophy Alberto had practiced for 40 years.

(Alberto Dairy)

The Real Influencer

While the tourists are fascinated by the worm water and the science of vermifiltration, the most impactful part of the visit is often the realization the farm is still run by people who know their cows by name and their soil by heart.

Agueda loves hosting people with no dairy background because it allows him to humanize an industry that is often misunderstood. He shows them the big farm they feared is actually a family business where the founder still gets his boots dirty every day. He explains the technology — the RFID tags, the automated cooling soakers and the worm beds — is all about one thing: cow comfort.

“A cow that isn’t sick is a cow that’s out in the stalls enjoying herself,” Anthony says. He points out since the BioFiltro system began cleaning the flush water, mastitis cases have plummeted. The cows are healthier, the water is cleaner and the soil is richer.

As the sun sets over Stanislaus County, casting long shadows across the worm beds, the tourists pack up their gear. They came for the technology, but they leave talking about the man on the tractor. They came for a story about industrial efficiency, but they leave with a story about the American dream.

Antonio Alberto doesn’t have a social media account. He doesn’t know what a follower count is. But as he pulls the tractor into the shed at the end of another long day, he remains the most influential figure on the farm. He is the proof that while the tools of the trade may change from pitchforks to precision sensors, the heart of the dairy industry remains exactly where it has always been: in the driver’s seat of a tractor, held steady by a family that refuses to let their dream fade.

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Three Honks to Say “I Love You”

Wed, 11 Feb 2026 14:29:37 GMT

It started during harvest season a few years ago. My husband, Brett, was driving the grain truck to the local co-op, and from our rented house not far off the main road, I would watch truck after truck roll by my office window to unload their grain for the season.

I knew which trucks belonged to us — the faded blue one with the busted radio, the red-and-white one sporting the newer logo and the red-and-black semi, my personal favorite. But while I watched our trucks roll by, I couldn’t always tell who was behind the wheel. Was it Brett? My father-in-law? My brother-in-law? I was nosy and wanted to keep tabs on who was driving what.

Finally, curiosity got the best of me. One night after a long day of combining and driving trucks, I asked my husband, “How many loads did you take in today?”

In-between bites of whatever late-night dinner I flung together, he gave me his answer, then asked, “Didn’t you see me?”

Nope, not from that distance. Even with 20/20 vision and a keen eye, there was no way to tell who was behind the wheel when they were flying past at 55 mph.

The next day, I watched the road again as the trucks made their rounds. First the blue one passed, then a while later the red. Finally, the semi came around the bend on its way to town with the first load of the day. This time, though, the driver honked three times, and I found myself wondering what that was about.

A little later, I got a text from Brett while he was waiting in the grain line: “Did you see me go by with the semi? I honked three times. I said I love you.”

Our Own Little Love Language

Our poor neighbors must have been sick of the trucks rolling by that fall, especially once the “three honks” tradition began. No matter which truck came down the road, I always knew when Brett was behind the wheel because a distinctive “Honk! Honk! HONKKKK!” would ring out across County Road R.

We’ve since moved to the farm, and our house is no longer on the path to the co-op. During our first fall at the new address, I mentioned how I missed hearing those three beeps go off throughout the day. Brett cracked a smile when I told him this, and mischievously said, “Challenge accepted.”

Now, I’ll hear those three blasts echo from a pickup, a tractor or whatever rig he’s driving that day, and I just smile. Those three honks have become our little ritual. It’s simple, it’s sweet and it’s probably annoying to everyone else in the area, but it’s ours. And it’s a reminder that love doesn’t always need words, sometimes it just needs a truck rolling down the road and three short honks.

Do You Think You’ve Had Hard Times Yet?

Tue, 10 Feb 2026 16:58:11 GMT

While interviewing Tom Gerrits of Country Aire Farms, I challenged him to choose one question he most wanted me to ask his sons. He didn’t mention herd size, technology or milk markets. He said, “Ask them this: Do you think you’ve had hard times yet?”

It wasn’t meant to challenge effort or minimize pressure. It was meant to spark perspective.

Because dairy farming has never been easy. But the nature of its challenges has changed with every generation.

As Tom and his brother Mike could recall, they once milked 80 cows alongside their parents in a stall barn near Greenleaf, Wis. Physically, the work was hard. And as the two brothers choose farming for their own career paths, their father Budd Gerrits taught them not only how to roll up their sleeves, but to operate with excellence and to think strategically.

These lessons prepared the two brothers in ways they didn’t know yet would be necessary for the challenges their generation would face as they took over the family farm.

Tom and Mike entered the era of growth and expansion. A trip to the Southwest in the 1990s opened their eyes to new ways of dairying. Over the coming years, Country Aire Farms would lead the region in technology, with a rotary milking parlor, while growing the herd exponentially. And with this came its own “hard.” A more complex business, more volatile milk markets, reliance on outside labor. Work ethic was still a necessity, however, business management became equally essential.

Today, the next generation has stepped into management and leadership at Country Aire Farms. Tom’s sons Nick and Craig, and Mike’s sons Matt and Jon, carry forward the acumen for both work and business they learned from their fathers and grandfather, as they now milk roughly 6,000 cows on their home site.

To build up their managerial skills and their grit, each took a turn managing a 600-cow dairy at a second location. “Hard” during that training phase became learning what it was like to have full responsibility of cows, equipment and people, to manage employees and even to jump in the parlor if someone didn’t show up for a milking shift on a Saturday night. And that “hard” built the character and the skills for the challenges these four face today and going forward, whether its tight margins, social pressures, or government regulations.

Each generation tends to define hardship by its own experiences. But the reality is this: dairy farming has not become easier. What’s hard has just changed.

So when one generation asks the next, “Do you think you’ve hit hard times yet?” the question isn’t about comparison. It’s about continuity. And on hard days, these reflections on the past may serve as a hopeful reminder that those who came before us had some pretty tough days that they were able to rise above too.

Because every generation in dairy is called to face the “hard” of its era—and to build something strong enough to carry the next one forward.

Love on the Farm Means Managing Stress Together

Mon, 09 Feb 2026 21:10:28 GMT

On today’s farms and ranches, the toughest conversations don’t always happen in the farm office. They happen with your spouse at the kitchen table or in the last few minutes before turning in for the night. That stress of farm life is constant, and it can easily spill over into your relationship.

To help couples navigate these everyday pressures, Sean Brotherson, family science specialist with North Dakota State University, and Kale Monk, associate professor of human development and family science at the University of Missouri share practical strategies couples can use to manage that stress together so they can stay connected, handle the pressures of the season and keep both their farm and their partnership running smoothly.

Where Does Stress Show Up?

Stress can show up in all sorts of everyday situations on the farm, often in ways that feel routine but can add pressure to a relationship. Here are some common areas where couples on farms and ranches may feel that tension:

Planting, harvest and busy seasons often mean long days, leaving little time for meals together, errands or family activities.
Taking an off-farm job can shift responsibilities at home, creating different role expectations than maybe what was expected.
Weekend work or caring for children can make it hard to find time for meaningful moments to connect together like date nights or family meals.

As many know, these kinds of situations are a normal part of life on a farm. But catching stress early gives couples a chance to talk it out and deal with issues before they turn into bigger problems.

Tips for Staying Connected When Farm Life Gets Busy

When life on the farm gets hectic, it’s easy for stress to take over and for couples to drift apart without even realizing it. However, small everyday habits can help keep you connected even when life feels nonstop. Brotherson and Monk list 12 tips couples can use to stay connected and support each other while managing the demands of farm and family life.

Plan Together

“Set measurable goals together for a year from now, five years from now and your lifetime together,” Brotherson says. “Make decisions about time together in farming/ranching, other jobs or retirement. Then, focus on enjoying what you have decided to do.”

Planning together is a good first step, but keeping your connection strong takes daily check-ins and small ways of looking out for each other.
Check In Daily

“Look for and give attention to early indications of stress, such as a furrowed brow or a tense voice,” Brotherson says. “Respond with love and attention as needed.”
Express Appreciation

“Take time daily to state one item you appreciate about your partner,” Brotherson says.

Showing gratitude isn’t just about being polite. Taking the time to notice and acknowledge the little things your partner does can make both of you feel more connected, appreciated and supported.

“When your partner does something you appreciate, it’s vital to express gratitude,” Monk adds. “This makes partners feel valued and helps us see how we can keep pleasing each other.”
Use Clear Communication

“In talking, use ‘I’ statements more than ‘you’ statements,” Brotherson says. “Your partner will likely not change if you argue, ‘You’re always wanting to buy something else!’ Instead, try using an ‘I’ statement, like ‘I get worried and angry when I hear you wanting to buy a new piece of equipment. What I’d like is for the two of us to sit down and decide together which major purchases we can afford.’”
Listen Carefully

“Especially on serious matters, it is important to listen well and help your partner feel they have been heard and understood,” Brotherson notes. “Listen so that you can repeat back to your partner’s satisfaction what she or he says and feels. Focus on listening without being upset or defensive.”
Be Flexible With Roles

“Letting others do things you usually do and adjusting your expectations when necessary can reduce pressures,” Brotherson adds. “Share the responsibility of things such as family chores, cooking or kid care.”
Schedule Time to Talk

“When problems arise, schedule time for the two of you to brainstorm and discuss ideas,” Brotherson says. “Weigh the costs and benefits of each solution. Arrive at a plan that enables both of you to get something you want.”
Set Aside Time as a Couple

“To keep your marriage or partnership growing, take a break from the work, the children or other distractions. If it helps, make it a rule to talk about only yourselves as a couple and not about the farm or ranch operation.”

Taking that time together doesn’t have to be serious. Making it fun can make it even more meaningful.

“The more ridiculous or fun the activity, the better, in my opinion,” Monk adds. “Do something that makes both of you laugh and enjoy each other’s company.”
Use Social Media Sparingly
Social media can be a great way to stay connected with friends and family or share pride and appreciation for your partner. But it can also create stress, spark jealousy or make us compare our lives to the polished versions others post online.

“If we try to ‘keep up’, these artificially positive glimpses into other people’s lives can leave us feeling discouraged and resentful. Becoming consumed by social media and posting excessively can indicate growing insecurity in ourselves or our relationships.”
Laugh Together
On a farm, the days are long and there’s always something demanding your attention. Brotherson suggests taking a few minutes to laugh at a small mistake or a silly moment to lighten the mood and get through the day.

“Remember, always being serious is stressful while laughter reduces stress,” Brotherson says. “Watch a funny movie, share funny stories or find other ways to laugh.”
Celebrate Milestones

“Celebrate your anniversary, birthday, the arrival of a new foal or calf, getting the field planted before the rain and other milestones. Take joy in your lives together,” Brotherson says.
Don’t be Afraid to Ask for Help
Every relationship is unique, Monk says, and what works for one couple may not work for another. Partners have different needs and respond differently depending on their background, culture or experiences. If you ever feel unsure about handling challenges on your own, consider seeking therapy or counseling.

“Remember that therapy is not only for troubled relationships,” Monk adds. “Therapy can help preserve relationship happiness and prevent problems before significant conflicts arise.”

Build a Strong Partnership Over Time

Stress is a normal part of farm life. However, couples who practice daily communication, show appreciation and remain flexible often find they are better equipped to handle the pressures that come with farming or ranching.

By being intentional about their relationship, farm couples are better able to handle the busy seasons, the hard days and the everyday demands of agriculture while keeping their relationship just as much of a priority as the work.

Grit, Sweat and the Grind: The Relentless Parallel Between Pro Football and Dairy Farming

Fri, 06 Feb 2026 14:52:19 GMT

Whether we’re talking about sports or farming, you don’t last long unless you’re willing to do what others won’t. There is no offseason. Not in football. And certainly not in dairy.

With football, the calendar may show a break between seasons, but the work never really stops. The games end, but preparation begins again almost immediately. A true professional is never out of shape. You recover, you reset and you stay disciplined year-round because you know someone is always working to take your job.

Similarly, producers care for their herd year-round, 365 days a year ensuring the best care possible. Nutrition, comfort, hydration, veterinary access. The correlation between athletes and dairy cows is closer than most people realize.

The first person I met when I walked into the Carolina Panthers dining facility was the team dietitian.

“Nutrition means everything here, your performance depends on it” she told me. That sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

The work is relentless, whether it’s on the field or in the field. Early mornings and long days in the August heat can feel like an NFL training camp on the dairy when nothing seems to be going right. Equipment isn’t working, something expensive breaks, animals are sick, barn roof needs repaired, milk prices are dropping… again, and that’s just a normal Tuesday.

What makes us get up and do it again on Wednesday is grit. It takes grit to be a pro, and it takes grit to be a producer. Calloused hands are earned. Whether on the farm or in the New York Giants weight room, we are not afraid of it. In fact, the work is why we do what we do.

Most of the time it goes unnoticed. Protesters yell on social media, fans boo after a loss. They’ve never stepped in our boots or our cleats, yet they know how to run a farm and play this incredibly physical game, but we don’t mind. We keep grinding. We do what needs done so they can eat three meals a day and be entertained on Sunday. And that too is why we do what we do. We put the work in, so others don’t have to.

I’ve been waived by NFL teams several times, and I know producers forced to sell their herds. In those times, when it felt like all we knew was slipping away, we would have welcomed the boo birds and protesters. We’d do anything to keep grinding, play one more game or feed one more calf. It’s what made the sweat, the grit and the grind all worth it.

To watch Mark Inkrott’s full interview on the Unscripted Podcast, click here .

Love for the Lifestyle: How One Herdsperson is Making a Big Difference

Mon, 26 Jan 2026 21:10:07 GMT

Just five years ago, Justine Holland’s days revolved around her clients: formulating the perfect colors, artfully styling hair, and intently listening like a therapist. Today, her “clients” are 650 cows on a dairy in central Michigan. She still practices science, art, and intentional care. It just looks a little different now, and in her words, it’s “a lot better.”

Holland grew up around the corner from Sanborn and Sons Dairy in Hubbardston, Michigan. Throughout high school, two things that occupied a lot of her time were sports, including braiding hair for her teammates, and picking rocks.

“I went on to hair school,” Holland recalls. “I did that, and I liked it, but did I love it? No. I looked at hair as not really a full-time job, and I always wanted to do something extra.”

She found her way back to the farm by asking the owner if there was anything available. At first, it was washing equipment and getting ready for field work. “I just loved that more than my hair job,” she says. “But I still did hair for a few years, and then I started walking the barns.”

She went back to the owner. “Is there a position for this? Can I learn about cows?”, she asked. And by the time Holland’s first child was born, she walked away from the cosmetology industry to focus on her daughter and the dairy.

(Image Provied)

Holland’s drive and eagerness to learn led to a full-time position as the herd manager. With on-the-job training and an inquisitive nature as her primary source of education, she now does everything from herd health to computer work and payroll and helps in the field if needed.

“My passion for cows and learning about these creatures – they’re just remarkable. I could talk about them for days,” Holland says. “So I really switched roles and people crack up when they hear it. They say, ‘You’re a hair person, you look great, we can’t even believe you work on a dairy.’”

But it’s true. Holland says she’s deeply invested in the entire cycle of life, from manure hitting the field to her role in a long and healthy life for each cow. Her local vet knows it’s serious when she calls, because there’s so much she can – and loves to – handle on her own.

The progress around the farm is a product of that passion. “I’m interested in sustainability and finding ways the dairy can do better,” Holland says. “And I’ve been able to make a lot of changes for the better.”

Having someone who truly loves working with cows allowed those who had seen it as a chore to focus on their own strengths in the field and shop. The whole operation has benefitted.

Holland also dove into the systems the farm was using. She completed courses and trainings to make sure they were getting the maximum benefit from programs like PcDart and CowManager.

She noticed that the cows were at their best in a quiet barn where they could relax, so she reduced commotion and extra staff around the cows. Once-a-week bedding changes and storing the sand on concrete directly influenced both production and milk quality. Calf health was improved when she suggested transitioning from indoor housing to hutches.

“I always tell myself how thankful I am that my boss lets me do all these things,” Holland says. “He’s always telling me to run the dairy as if it were my own.”

One of the best contrasts from the hair stylist days for Justine is that she’s no longer the therapist. “I will talk to the gals, and they just listen,” Holland says. “I’m just out here trying to give my cows a healthy life and get healthy dairy products. Our cows are so comfortable and are literally spoiled. There might be bad things that happen, but the days are not bad at all.”

(Image Provided)

Finding Farm Magic Amidst Chores, Challenges and Catastrophe

Thu, 08 Jan 2026 17:24:21 GMT

Don’t let the rhythm of daily farm life overshadow its inherent magic. It’s in those fleeting, glittery moments that the true heart of farming reveals itself: the fierce determination of a pint-sized hand learning to bottle-feed a wobbly calf, the quiet pride of an 8-year-old mastering calf watering solo, or the powerful legacy unfolding as a husband teaches his 12-year-old son to shift gears in the old John Deere 4020. I still smile remembering his older sister, driving like a boss across wheat fields, backing a truck and trailer between two semis with effortless grace — a daughter who would go on to haul cull cattle, plow fields, run chopper box wagons, rebuild a field cultivator and manage herd health. These aren’t just chores; they’re the threads of a life beautifully woven, demanding we keep our eyes and hearts open to let that fairy dust settle.

I understand all too well that farming is also a relentless test of patience. We’ve all weathered those years: the endless complaints about chores, the heartbreaking wave of pneumonia through the calves, the milk checks that barely cover expenses, making it difficult to dream for the future against a tide of uncertainty. It’s during these darkest times, however, that the most profound light can be found.

My proof arrived in July 2019, when an overnight barn fire consumed our heifer barn and commodity shed. Truthfully, seeing the flames and the developing nightmare dropped me to my knees. But witnessing the younger generation grow up overnight, their determination to help persevere was indescribable, reminding us why we do what we do.

The days and weeks that followed, our farm shifted into auto-mode, working unimaginable hours, checking heifers at remote locations with kids in tow. It was in those moments, the children’s excitement over new farm pups after chores, a spontaneous game of pickup with sticks and an old ball by a corn crib, that we found our fuel. These small, glittery moments weren’t just distractions; they were the anchors that pulled us through, reminding my husband and me of our way. When times are tough, look at the breathtaking landscape your farm provides. In its vastness and enduring beauty, you can find a profound sense of purpose and a guarantee you won’t be disappointed.

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From Pasture to Milk: The Inspiring Journey of an Irish Dairy Farmer

Wed, 24 Dec 2025 16:30:00 GMT

In the ever-evolving world of agriculture, the quest for farm profitability remains constant, regardless of geographical location. For Brian Rushe, a dairy farmer from Ireland, this pursuit is not just about numbers on a ledger; it is the foundation upon which sustainability and longevity are built.

Rushe’s farm is nestled in the luscious countryside of County Kildare, Ireland, a vibrant testament to change, resilience and foresight. The year 2015 marked the beginning of a journey for Rushe and his family, as they transitioned from a long-standing beef and crop operation to dairying. This shift was not a rash decision but a well-considered pivot, recognizing their greatest potential for profitability and optimal land use.

The Shift to Dairy Farming
Before delving into the dairy sector, the Rushe family had been successfully managing a beef and crop farm. However, when evaluating their options for future growth and sustainability, the shift toward dairying became apparent. Rushe explains the decision was partly influenced by their location and land characteristics, ensuring a more promising avenue for their agricultural endeavors.

In Ireland, the topic of quotas is a common discussion among dairy farmers. Rushe mentions even if a producer exceeded their quota, if the processor was under, the balance was maintained. This outlook provided a more flexible approach toward managing dairy production levels.

Rushe’s dairying venture actually began on a neighboring farm in 2013. This farm provided a significant block of land, which allowed him to quickly increase cow numbers.
Brian recalls, “It was a drier farm, as well,” alluding to how drier land is advantageous to get cows to grass quicker, ultimately boosting per-cow income, in a primarily pasture-based system.

As the family eased into dairying, they maintained their beef and tillage operations for a while. However, it soon became evident a tough business decision was necessary. Rushe and his father decided to sell some of their land as the workload of managing both operations became too cumbersome.

“We were not going to continue with the crops because the workload was actually getting too hard,” Rushe shares.

Intensive Grazing Strategy
The Rushe family grazes their dairy cows for nine months each year. Despite the demanding nature of these months, they prefer this schedule over year-round crop management.

By 2020, the Rushe family decided to expand further by building a second dairy. Through fortunate timing and planning, they avoided the supply chain issues many faced during the COVID-19 pandemic. Today, they successfully milk 350 cows across two dairies.

Their cows go dry from mid-December to early January. On their second farm, calving starts in February, but at the home farm, it begins in March, attributed to different levels of soil dryness. Capitalizing on their grazing ability and sensor collars, the farm uses New Zealand genetics and crossbred cows.

Challenges and Opportunities for Irish Dairies
Rushe highlights several challenges dairies in Ireland face, including who will represent the next generation of farmers. With fewer individuals willing to run dairy farms, Rushe says some young people have moved to New Zealand or the U.S. However, the slow pace of life in Ireland is appealing for retaining labor from other countries, and the Rushe farm employs staff from the Netherlands and Saudi Arabia.

The Irish dairy farmer shares the removal of quotas in 2015 was a relief for producers, including himself.

“For the first time, farmers could see opportunities and grow their herds,” he says.

Manure management regulations impose challenges, with stocking rates limited by nitrogen limits per hectare. If exceeded, Irish producers must apply for a derogation program, taking further environmental protection steps. Rushe explains losing the derogation could impact the number of cows they keep.

Despite this challenge, Rushe believes Irish farmers are invested in their dairy future, with 16,000 dairies in operation and the majority of milk going into powder production.

“I would have said three years ago the limit on growing dairy was going to be a process of capacity because we’ve peaked,” he says. “The processing capacity has gone the other way now because milk production has declined.”

Rushes shares processors worry if farmers lose the derogation their milk supply will further drop, and the co-op will become less efficient.

“This will impact the co-ops’ ability to pay a good milk price,” he says.

Looking Ahead
Looking to the future, Rushe shares his wife, Rebecca, is a nurse and their two children, Rhys, 13 and Reese, 9, are too young to know what the future holds. Although he notes that his son shows interest in the farming operation.

“I hope he gets an education,” he shares, and gets the chance to travel to other operations to learn from their mistakes and see what opportunities have worked for them before returning to the family operation.

“Everybody does things a little differently and sometimes by seeing other farms, you can find something that will work for you,” he says.

Rushe says the one thing he has been the most impressed when visiting U.S. dairy farms is their attention to detail.

“Attention to detail pays and their views on pinpointing what is causing problems is pretty amazing,” he says. “Even on some big, complex dairies, they simplify it at a personal level.”

Through strategic transformation and expansion, the Rushe family illustrates the evolving nature of family farming in Ireland. As they navigate the challenges and opportunities of modern dairying, their journey offers insights and lessons for farmers not only in Ireland, but worldwide.

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Beyond the Touchdown: How Former NFL Player Mark Inkrott Found His Heroes in Dairy Farmers

Wed, 17 Dec 2025 16:03:05 GMT

Before, his heroes were Joe Montana and Michael Jordan; now, former professional football player, Mark Inkrott shares he now looks up to dairy farmers. At the 2025 MILK Business Conference in Las Vegas, Inkrott took center stage at Unscripted Live to offer a compelling narrative of perseverance and grit. His journey from the fields of professional sports to the agriculture industry serves as an inspiring beacon for anyone navigating life’s uncertainties, reminding us that purpose can be discovered in the most unexpected places.

From Football Fields to Farms
Inkrott’s journey is a tale that meanders through the unforgiving world of professional sports to the equally challenging realm of agribusiness. Originally hailing from a small town in Ohio, Inkrott’s roots were deeply embedded in agriculture, thanks to the influence of his farmer grandfather. It wasn’t just the skill of farming he learned but also the values of hard work, resilience and determination — traits that would serve him well in his later career as a professional athlete.

Although Inkrott never grew up on a farm, his experiences there shaped his outlook on life. Despite facing setbacks in his football career, including injuries and being cut from teams, his unwavering determination helped him break into the NFL, a testament to the power of perseverance.

A New Direction
After a stint in Europe and with the New York Giants, a career-ending injury forced Inkrott to reassess his path. He discovered his next chapter, ironically, as a professional athlete again, but this time in the field of softball, where the competition was as fierce as the camaraderie was rewarding. However, the realization of impermanence led him to the insurance sector after Hurricane Katrina, where he helped rebuild lives, albeit temporarily losing sight of his own purpose.

The turning point arrived with a meaningful opportunity in the dairy industry. Inkrott says he took a drastic pay cut to join the dairy industry, at ADA Mideast, and then with DMI, where he found not just a job but a renewed sense of meaning. Surrounded by the same hardworking spirit he admired in his grandfather, Inkrott once again thrived, building essential relationships with both mentors and farmers who inspired him daily.

“There was something about dairy farmers, where I just wanted to spend more time with them,” he says.

The Intersection of Athletics and Agriculture
Inkrott recalls how the lessons from his athletic career — discipline, grit and sheer doggedness — echo throughout the agricultural community. His time with high-profile athletes like Kurt Warner taught him true professionalism extends beyond the field and into every aspect of life. It’s about cooperation, adaptation and having a goal larger than oneself; a message he found resonating deeply within the community of dairy producers.

Inkrott says there is a striking similarity between the highly competitive world of professional sports and the demanding life of agriculture.

“Both fields require a relentless pursuit of excellence, a belief in oneself, and the ability to weather storms, both literal and metaphorical,” he says.

Navigating New Horizons
As Inkrott transitioned from professional sports to agribusiness, he embraced another challenging journey: entrepreneurship. Ten years into running Upfield Group, Inkrott finds fulfillment in the difficulty, as it challenges him much like his athletic career did. His journey is a powerful reminder that the pursuit of one’s calling is ongoing, and each twist and turn is part of the larger, fulfilling tapestry of life.

Inkrott tells farmers who are stuck to trust in technology, embrace continuous learning and listen to your heart.

“Recognize when it’s time to pivot and embrace what lies ahead with the same passion that led you to farming,” he says.

Inkrott’s story is a beacon for those experiencing their own ebbs and flows, proving that life’s greatest victories often come from our greatest challenges. As we continue the journey, embracing resilience and finding joy in the pursuit will always lead us toward a fulfilled and purposeful life.

To watch the full Unscripted Podcast: Unscripted Mark Inrott_milk Business Conference

Founding CEO of Dairy Farmers of America Passes

Fri, 12 Dec 2025 18:52:37 GMT

Gary Hanman, the founding CEO of Dairy Farmers of America (DFA) and a longtime leader in the cooperative dairy world, has recently passed. He served as CEO from DFA’s inception in 1998 until 2005, guiding the cooperative and the broader dairy industry through a period of significant growth and collaboration, according to a company statement.

Before taking the lead at Dairy Farmers of America, Hanman served as CEO of Mid-America Dairyman, where he built a strong track record and earned the respect of colleagues across the dairy industry. His work positioned him as a trusted and respected figure within the cooperative dairy community, known for his ability to navigate complex organizational and market challenges.

In 1998, when four regional cooperatives joined forces to create a stronger national voice for dairy farmers, Hanman was the unanimous choice to lead the newly formed DFA. Under his guidance, the cooperative became the nation’s first truly national dairy organization, establishing a model of collaboration and unity that continues to influence the industry today.

“Gary was probably the only person in the country who could have brought dairy farmers together to form Dairy Farmers of America,” says Randy Mooney, chairman of DFA’s board of directors and a farmer-owner in Rogersville, Mo. “He was a dynamic figure and visionary in his work for American dairy farmers.”

During his years at DFA, Hanman was known for bringing together organizations with different histories and priorities, while keeping the focus on supporting farmers. His approach helped solidify DFA’s role in the national dairy landscape and created long-lasting benefits for dairy producers well beyond his tenure.

Hanman’s work left a lasting mark on DFA and the broader dairy community, helping build a cooperative that continues to support American dairy farmers today.

Standing Up for Whole Milk by Sharing the Whole Story

Fri, 12 Dec 2025 15:12:24 GMT

Every now and then, amidst the never-ending lists of tasks and chores, you hear something that reminds you why you do it. Often finding herself surrounded by kindergarteners, Magdalene Gerst frequently hears comments like, “Oh, this is the dark brown chocolate milk. This is the really good stuff!”

It’s a cute quote, and it was fun to hear. It may have even been one of those “why we do it” moments, but it’s also part of a story that proves something has to change.

Gerst is a seventh-generation farmer from Richmond Farms Dairy, a 200-cow dairy in North Collins, New York. As a past dairy princess and mom of three, she has a knack for connecting with young kids about what she does and where their milk comes from.

During her visits to schools, Gerst has noticed an unfortunate trend. “Kids won’t even touch the one percent,” she says. “They can only get non-fat for lunch, and if a five-year-old can notice, it really says something.” At home, many kids are drinking two percent or whole milk. And when the milk at school tastes different, the kids don’t drink it, and they miss out on the nutrients dairy provides.

(Magdalene Gerst)

Seeing this part of the story play out time and again has given Gerst the motivation and message she needs to speak with the legislators who can help make a change. “We had our congressman out to the farm when he first got elected,” she recalls. “We talked to him about things that are important to us and just let him see what’s going on.”

More recently, Gerst traveled with the National Young Cooperators to Washington, DC. “We talked to our representatives about the key things, one being ‘Whole Milk for Healthy Kids,’” Gerst says. “That was an easy thing to talk about from being in the schools.”

(Magdalene Gerst)

From those experiences, Gerst has learned what works – and what doesn’t. “In the past, we’ve written letters,” she says. “I’m sure they get them but there’s no follow-through. But when we physically made an appointment and we’re sitting in their office, follow that up with a thank-you card and they’re gonna remember that connection.”

Since hosting the congressman on the farm, communication has opened up both ways. “You’ve got to set up that first connection. I like to keep the door open so they’re welcome to visit anytime,” Gerst says. “I’ll show them around and answer any of their questions.”

Gerst wears many hats on the farm, and she pulls from all of her experiences to make sure she has a good story to share with anyone she meets. On any given day, she could be managing embryo transfers, payroll, or working with the vet – and all with a toddler in tow.

(Magdalene Gerst)

For both legislators and kindergarteners, she says those real-life stories are key: “Letting them know what the day-to-day looks like, and letting them feel included,” she says. “Especially for the kids, they want to see pictures, or they want something physical they can touch. So I take a calf into the school. I take feed and let them make a trail mix – as we call it – but then teach them what that is.”

Several months after her visits to her kids’ schools, Gerst is still hearing those reaffirming comments like, “Did you bring chocolate milk today?” or “Are you gonna bring a calf again?”

Gerst feels strongly about bridging those gaps right from the beginning, instead of trying to correct misinformation. She loves seeing their faces light up and knowing she’s showing them something they will remember and share at home. “I love kids, so that makes it even more fun. We have a great story to tell, and if we don’t tell it, someone else is going to make up their own story to tell on us.”

Discover How Lechera Protea in Chile is Shaping the Future of Dairy Farming

Tue, 09 Dec 2025 13:47:39 GMT

Nestled in the lush Curacavi, Chile, Lechera Protea Dairy stands as a beacon of innovation and tradition in the South America dairy farming industry. This exceptional farm has seamlessly blended pioneering farming techniques to help drive their dairy into the future.

The Roots of Lechera Protea Dairy
Founded in 1975 by Don Guillermo, Lechera Protea Dairy began with modest ambitions. Guillermo took the helm, infusing the family farm with the hardy European breeds that kickstarted its illustrious journey. The 1990s marked a turning point with the construction of the first freestall barns, setting the stage for further advancements. As the 2000s unfurled, U.S. breeds were introduced, and by 2010, new technologies were embraced, such as the usage of sexed semen and genomic testing transforming traditional methods into modern practices.

(Lechera Protea Dairy)

Today, the family breeds their bottom genetics to beef and like the U.S. dairy industry, they have capitalized on a lucrative beef market that has become a solid alternative profit source for their operation. Guillermo says they raise their beef-on-dairy calves to 350 kilos and then send them off to a feedlot.

With their No.1 focus on their home site caring and milking for mature cattle, they send their youngstock to southern Chile. This allows the family to milk more cows and stay within their permit numbers on their home site.

“We utilize the grass in the south to grow our heifers,” Guillermo says, noting the heifers come back bred and ready to calve.

An Era of Growth: Technological Advancements
In 2019, the Lechera Protea Dairy embarked on constructing its first compost barn, a cornerstone of its operational strategy. In 2022, the dairy completed the construction of their eighth compost barn and began construction of their new milk facility. Fast forward to 2025, and the farm exclusively houses their cattle in compost barns and now milks in a DeLaval 600-stall rotary, juxtaposing traditional ways with cutting-edge solutions. The milk production platform encompasses a generous 11.5 hectares, and the crop production spans 650 hectares, accommodating both corn and alfalfa. This resourceful approach allows for sustainable feed production, ensuring a steady nutritional supply for the herd.

Lechera Protea Dairy is one of 16 dairies that ship to their dairy cooperative, and their dairy currently represents 40% of the milk supply for that cooperative.

“We have been growing slowly,” he says. “Currently, our average days in milk is 190 days, and our total number of cattle, dry and lactating are 1,680 head.”

(Lechera Protea Dairy)

Impressive Dairy Output
Today, Lechera Protea Dairy is milking 1,500 head, three times a day, with daily outputs of 43 liters per cow, contributing to an annual production of 23 million liters. Such figures are a testament to the farm’s meticulous care in cow management and the efficacy of their farming operations.

Guillermo points out that 33% of the cows are in their first lactation, 23% are in their second and 44% are in their third-plus lactation.

The strategic focus on natural products has significantly reduced instances of mastitis, illustrating how innovation can enhance herd health without compromising milk quality. This attention to detail ensures a stable yield throughout the year, with enhancements in seasonal milk prices reflecting favorable conditions and stable production systems.

(Lechera Protea Dairy)

The Lechera Protea Dairy Legacy
Lechera Protea Dairy is more than just a working farm; it’s a testament to the willingness to incorporate innovation and technology to drive their dairy forward. As the farm progresses, the focus is committed to delivering high-quality dairy produce while nurturing its historical roots and embracing progressive agricultural practices.

This Chilean dairy farm is a shining example of how tradition and innovation can intertwine, yielding remarkable results not only for the present but for generations to come.

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Innovation, Perseverance and Passion Drive Wybrand Vander Dussen's Dairy Success

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 14:18:04 GMT

In the heart of La Salle, Colo., a remarkable dairy legacy continues to unfold. Wybrand Vander Dussen, the 2025 Milk Business Young Producer Award winner, is not just a testament to the resilience of the dairy industry but a symbol of the perseverance and passion that have defined his family’s legacy for generations.

The story begins in Rotterdam, Netherlands, where Vander Dussen’s great-grandfather was a milk peddler, diligently making and selling milk. Fast forward to 2013, and the Vander Dussen family had relocated from Southern California to Northern Colorado, driven by their deep roots in the dairy industry. The move was more than just geographical; it was a strategic step to create a lasting future for the family amid a mature dairy market.

“At the time, Colorado was advantageous because it was not a mature dairy market,” fellow dairy producer, AJ De Jager shared in a letter of recommendation on behalf of Vander Dussen. “Mark [Vander Dussen] jumped on this endeavor and developed a beautiful and functional dairy that he was operating not much long after.”

Overcoming Early Challenges
Vander Dussen’s journey as a young producer was marked by both challenges and growth. After the unexpected passing of his father, Mark, due to cancer, the family dairy was managed by his uncle Danny while Vander Dussen completed his animal science studies at Kansas State University. The summers spent working in the dairy industry laid a foundation of practical knowledge and experience, preparing him for the responsibilities he would eventually take on.

“A couple years later, Danny moved off to start his own venture in South Dakota,” De Jager says. “While he was only a young man a few years out of college, Wybrand possessed the work ethic and maturity to take over as the leader of the family dairy, and Prado Dairy has done nothing but excel its trajectory ever since.”

KayCee Lytle with Bank of Colorado who works closely with Vander Dussen and Prado Dairy says: “Wybrand came back and took over this operation at a really young age. To have to go through some pretty hard things to get here and being supported by his family in incredible.”

Embracing Leadership and Innovation
Upon returning from college, Vander Dussen assumed leadership of the dairy, bringing with him a vision of growth and innovation. He sought to integrate new technologies to enhance efficiency and cow comfort. This forward-thinking approach included the installation of rubber flooring for cow comfort and the use of collars for health monitoring and management, eliminating the need for headlocks.

“We’re going to be doing most of the the tasks, the breedings, the moves, the trims, all in the milking barn through sort gates, and so we’re not going to have any headlocks in here,” Vander Dussen says.

Vander Dussen’s quiet leadership, characterized by thoughtful inquiry and strategic planning, set him apart. His ability to ask the right questions and seek guidance from family and industry professionals reflects a commitment to continuous learning and improvement. These efforts have not gone unnoticed, as his dedication and innovative spirit have earned him recognition as a leader among young producers.

It’s a task he’s taking on now with help from his family.

“My uncle taught me how to read cash flows and project your herd inventory and all sorts of stuff,” Vander Dussen says. “It’s a lot of moving parts, and these larger operations are really tough to wrap your arms around at times.”

(Photo Provided)

Family and Community: The Heart of the Dairy
The support of Vander Dussen’s family has been pivotal in his journey. His wife, Amber, and their children are integral to the family dairy, embodying the values of hard work and community. The Vander Dussens have made it their mission to not only operate a successful dairy but also provide a nurturing environment for their children, instilling in them the same passion for agriculture that runs through their veins.

Vander Dussen’s journey, from overcoming profound personal loss to strategically relocating and innovating Prado Dairy, perfectly embodies the spirit of the 2025 Milk Business Young Producer Award. His quiet yet determined leadership, marked by a commitment to embracing technology like rubber flooring and health monitoring collars, alongside a deep appreciation for family and community, showcases a model for sustainable growth. As the dairy industry navigates an uncertain future, the Vander Dussen legacy stands as a powerful testament to resilience, forward-thinking management and the enduring passion for agriculture, proving that with leaders like him, the future of dairy remains incredibly bright.

The High-Tech Transformation of a Dairy Visionary

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 20:51:50 GMT

“Growing up as a kid, I always told everyone I was going to be a farmer,” says Paul Windemuller of Coopersville, Mich. “I just didn’t know how it was going to happen, because we didn’t have a farm.”

That was more than 30 years ago in 1990. Today, Windemuller has achieved that dream as a first-generation dairy farmer who wholeheartedly understands how rapidly the dairy industry is changing. We met up with the tech-savvy, charismatic young farmer in Santiago, Chile during the 2025 International Dairy Forum World Dairy Summit to talk about how innovation and data ownership are reshaping traditional agriculture both here in the U.S. and around the world.

From Humble Beginnings to Innovation Leader
Windemuller’s journey into dairy farming began in western Michigan, where his family ran a farm equipment dealership. Despite not growing up on a farm, experiences working on various agricultural operations instilled in him a passion for livestock, particularly dairy. Windemuller’s academic pursuit in agribusiness management at Michigan State University, coupled with a pivotal stint at Lincoln University in New Zealand, laid the foundation for his future endeavors. It was there that he found a mentor who owned multiple dairy farms and also consulted with other dairies. This relationship fueled Windemuller’s ambition and gave him the business acumen necessary for success in the dairy industry.

When Windemuller returned to American soil, he was married with a baby, $2,000 in his bank account and no home. This fueled determination out of the gate, which quickly led to a job with Dairy Farmers of America, where he honed his skills in supply consulting, helping member farms optimize their purchasing practices. This was also the period when Windemuller’s vision for Dream Winds Dairy began to take shape.

Building Dream Winds Dairy
Dream Winds Dairy started on a modest 13-acre farm acquired by Windemuller and his family. With an initial investment of just $20,000, they transformed an old tie-stall barn into a thriving enterprise, starting with 30 cows in 2014 and expanding to 250 by 2018.

“This is where I cut my teeth on technology back when I put the robots in,” he says, noting that SCR collars drastically improved their operational efficiency and cow health. Windemuller says, through adopting technology, he virtually stopped giving breeding shots and began treating cows earlier with more homeopathic methods.

“That made a huge impact there, which also made a huge impact on my cull rate, because if you can breed cows and you can keep them healthy, you don’t need to cull them as much,” he says, noting that this helped him not need to purchase as many replacements.

The Power of Technology and Data
Today, Windemuller’s approach to dairy farming is heavily influenced by technology. He believes AI and automation play crucial roles in enhancing farm productivity and profitability. The introduction of milking robots and other technological advancements allows him to manage farm operations more effectively while maintaining an off-farm job.

Windemuller shares that soon out of the gate, he relied heavily on data, meticulously tracking numbers and tirelessly working to manage his growing farm.

“Every six weeks, I tested my herd,” he says. “I stared at those numbers trying to find patterns to manage them. I struggled, but I slowly learned.”

When he installed robots and sensor collars in 2017, along with it came real-time data on every aspect of his farm operations.

“Suddenly, I had more data than I knew what to do with,” he says, sharing initially it overwhelmed him, but eventually empowered him and turned him into a data-driven farmer obsessed with AI.

Global Insights: A Nuffield Scholar’s Journey
Windemuller says one year later, with the help of real-time data, both his breeding numbers and cull rates went from well below the industry average to well above it.

“That’s when I realized that data really empowered me. It trained me, and it made me a better dairy farmer,” he says.

The power of data led to a Nuffield Scholarship, allowing Windemuller to travel to more than 15 countries. Traveling the globe, he observed the transformative impact of AI and automation in agriculture. Windemuller says he drew inspiration from industry pioneers and recognized parallels between the evolution of electricity and the potential of AI in revolutionizing farming practices.

During this time, Windemuller listened to a Jeff Bezos podcast that he calls a lightening transformation.

“AI is like a horizontal enabling layer, much like electricity in the early 20^th century,” he recalls. “Now, after all my travels and research, I believe AI, as a technology, will be more transformative than even electricity. AI is not a single tool. It’s the foundation for almost every new technology that will power the next generation of agriculture. Whether we like it or not, over time, AI will become the invisible layer that runs through nearly every system we use in this industry.”

While AI presents seemingly endless opportunities, it also comes with its own set of challenges. Windemuller highlights roadblocks like data quality, infrastructural issues, fear of technology by farm workers and governance barriers. His research underscores the importance of accurate data and interoperability in successfully leveraging AI, as well as the need to foster a culture of innovation among farm teams.

A Vision for the Future
Windemuller introduces several frameworks to guide the integration of AI in agriculture. From the AI yield gap, which identifies untapped potential, to the livestock AI readiness index, which helps farms assess their preparedness, he emphasizes the importance of strategic adoption. Moreover, he envisions a future where farmers control their data through cooperatives, ensuring their freedom and leveraging cleaner data for industry-wide benefits.

For those skeptical of AI’s relevance to their farms, Windemuller’s message is clear: farmers should embrace data stewardship and technological experimentation. Simple steps, like using software to manage team schedules or feed prices, can provide a gateway to understanding AI’s potential. Most importantly, fostering a culture where technology is seen as an enabler, rather than a threat, is crucial.

Looking to the future, Windemuller envisions an era where humanoid robots and integrated visual technologies will further revolutionize farm operations. He predicts these advancements will enable farmers to achieve a holistic insight threshold, where comprehensive data points provide an unparalleled understanding of farm dynamics. This shift toward data-driven decision-making promises to distinguish successful farms from those that resist technological change.

“Everyone will have access to the same commercially available AI tools, but AI has a multiplying effect, if a farmer is 10% better than the industry average, and the multiplying effect is 10x, then that farm will be 100% better than the industry average (profit wise). This will have a hockey stick effect on industry consolidation and efficiency,” he says.

Join the Movement
As Windemuller concludes, his vision for the future is an agricultural industry that empowers farmers to lead the digital transformation. By harnessing the power of AI, they can make informed decisions and build resilient businesses prepared for the future.

“We don’t want one company owning all the systems or controlling your data, but we do want our systems to talk to each other,” he says. “Imagine a system where farmers are not just data producers, but are in complete control of their data. A system where we pull our information together through a farmer-led cooperative that governs how the data is shared, monetized and used for farmers. This means access to cleaner, scaled, verifiable data sets. For researchers and innovators, it opens doors to accelerate solutions that serve our entire ecosystem as an industry.

In the end, Windemuller believes AI won’t replace farmers, but it will elevate them, creating sharper managers and better stocked people.

“By leading this transformation, we ensure a robust future for the next generation of farmers,” he says.

Windemuller’s story is a compelling example of how innovation and strategic thinking are redefining modern dairy farming. His insights and initiatives not only promise to drive profitability but also ensure the sustainability of an industry poised for transformative growth. Through collaborations and commitment to leveraging data, the future of dairy is bright.

Paul Windemuller will share his story and present in more detail at the 2025 Milk Business Conference, Dec. 2-3 in Las Vegas. To see the full agenda and register today, go to: MILK Business Conference 2025

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