I don’t think so.

Farmers won’t change the food system. Entrepreneurs who farm will.

I sat with those two sentences and the cursor blinking on my screen for a solid ten minutes when i was writing the email to our subscribers a few weeks ago. I believe them. Deep down, I believe we can change a broken food system and a dying industry through innovation and sheer grit. It’s going to take grass roots efforts from people who can see the value in the work despite the abysmal cash return.

But the question that keeps nagging at me is this: How do we do that without burning out?

Maybe it’s the big decade birthday I had this winter. Maybe it’s coming down from a rough season of intense health challenges. But this thought followed me around for most of the year too.

Because here’s the quiet truth no one really says out loud: the people who are good at the business side of farming have skills that get paid far better almost anywhere else.

Marketing. Accounting. Office Manager. Market Analysis. Spreadsheet Wizard (Is that an actual title? No. But seem’s fitting.) Social Media Manager. Accountant. Website Builder. Logistics Coordinator. And while I might not be great at each of these, outside of this industry, these are well paying jobs with set hours.

Farmers who want out of the traditional commodity market have to be all of that, plus hold a highly specialized, physically demanding skill set required to actually produce food only to then learn to read legal jargon to make sure we jump through the right regulatory hoops to sell it to you. 

That reality of how exhausting this can be hit me again last week at 6:30 a.m., sitting on a tractor while my beloved dairy cow hung lifeless in a hip lift device and chest sling from my tractor loader. She had torn her stifle and had no fight left after 2 days of lifting her multiples times a day, trying to get her to stand on her own. She was absolutely done fighting.

With panic ringing in my ears, every loss we’ve taken over the years flashed through my mind as she just… gave up. And, I cried. A down cow like this rarely survives and she wasn’t just down, she was done.

But, we didn’t quit on her.

I threw every skill I’ve learned over the last decade at her in that moment, refusing to take another loss after what feels like years of gut punches. All those failures that came before her? They became a handbook & I pulled out every single trick I could recall, including sheer will for her to get up. 

Seventy-two hours after she fell, she stood with only hands supporting her. Eight hours later, she stood on her own while I was beside her with happy tears running down my face. 

I deal with goodbye often in this job. But, this cow was not going to be on my list if I had any say in it. Thankfully, God handed me a win when I have felt really defeated lately.

I’ve only been farming as my job for seven years. In that time, I’ve watched countless farms, partnerships, and cooperatives close their doors. Not because they didn’t care but because the returns simply weren’t worth the time, heartache, stress or lack of profits. 

Regulations. Cash flow. Infrastructure. Labor. Taxes. Slow ROI. Long days & early mornings. All of this paired with an industry where our customers have been trained to believe our product should be “cheap”. The list of ways this industry can break you is endless. I know I talk about this a lot but that’s because it’s the part of farming no one sees that can force even the grittiest of people to throw up their hands in defeat.

I might be world’s okay-est businesswoman, but I’m a dang good farmer. What I’m most proud of building these last 7 years though is this community we feed. You see the work we do with a new understanding of the invisible labor behind feeding people by walking alongside is here. You see me in the day-to-day when watching chores in Instagram stories or catching glimpses of our family on Facebook. You know my dairy cows by name, laugh at the goose bonded to my old horse, and are fully aware that my kids are absolutely feral on a good day. (Especially Dean. That kid is WILD.)

What I didn’t share in this email though is how tired I am. To the bone, I am exhausted. It’s not a kind of tired that is fixed with some extra sleep either. The pressures we face are the kind that seeps into your bones and has you questioning if you want to keep going.

In the last week, we faced the health department again coming after us for a permit we don’t think is actually applies to us & USDA decided that we are violating their organic requirements by telling our customers that we FEED organic, not that we ARE organic. 🙁

While I write this, I am paying our state licensing fees for the store & butcher shop, just finished Business & Operating Taxes for last quarter and workers comp payments.

In January, our well blew and our electrical connection from the transformer needed replacing, eating the majority of our profits we had finally saved.

All while Joe on the internet writes comments that we price gauge simply because we’re more expensive than his beloved Costco. (Insert my eye rolls)

Am I complaining? Maybe. Lol. But this blog is my journal, my thoughts written down in their free form without worry of instagram community guidelines or offending the facebook police. I’ll still take this work over our previous life but holding immense gratitude doesn’t mean I can’t also admit the truth.

I AM TIRED.

The connection to our community is what has carried us through the seasons when the work feels relentless. Whether you come to see us for an occasional special meal, or we get to fill your freezer as your personal ranchers, both matter more than you know.

On the hard days, when the exhaustion creeps in, knowing this work pays our bills & keeps our family afloat makes the weight feel a little lighter. What might feel like a small decision, grabbing a dozen eggs or a pound of ground beef, means something very real here. It keeps the lights on, the livestock fed, and allows us to keep showing up and fighting for your food freedom with the same grit we bring to the table every single day.

Farmers won’t change the food system. Entrepreneurs who farm will.

– Brianna