Dairy farming a glamorous job?

At a social get-together today, someone said dairy farming was glamorous. Rewarding, challenging, interesting, in touch with nature, a great way to raise a family, yes. Glamorous? I’d never thought of it that way. My friend (not a farmer) pointed out that many urban professionals might envy the freedom and sense of purpose enjoyed by dairy farmers.

It’s all about perspective, I guess. My husband saw me engrossed in reading a farmer’s newsletter last night and said: “You really love your farming, don’t you?”. “Yes,” I said, “Look at this! Turns out the nitrogen in the first effluent pond is much less volatile and…”. Well, there’s nothing sexy about a primary effluent pond. Realising how ridiculous I sounded, all I could do was laugh at myself. I do love it – especially learning how all the natural systems that come together in a farm work – even though there are days when it’s a really hard, dirty and uncomfortable grind that’s anything but glamorous.

But how do other Australians see us? According to one 2010 poll, as trustworthy. I wonder how the milk wars have affected public perceptions.

Bizarre weather works in our favour

The House paddock, April 2001

The House paddock, April 2011

Just like a garden, our farm grows a mix of annual, biannual and perennial plants. Perennials are the most desirable if you can get them to grow. For the last 15 years, the weather has been really tough on perennials and we’ve been hit hard with a charming little grub called the red-headed cockchafer (honestly!), so, over time, more and more of the farm has been planted to annuals. Perennials need better conditions to get established than annuals or biannuals and the seed is incredibly expensive.

This summer and autumn are different. My old friend Jack tells me the last time he’s seen the place stay green all through summer was in the sixties. So, if this is a once in a 50-year- chance to get the more delicate perennials established, I’m going to take it! As a result, about a quarter of the farm is ploughed up, including the paddock that wraps itself around the house, replacing annuals with perennials. It’s a bit scarey but it’s worth the gamble.  If we get it wrong, we lose tens of thousands of dollars in seed, contractor bills and feed. If it works, we’ll reduce our vulnerablility to autumn weather, lower our annual pasture renovation costs and, with less disturbance, better protect our soils.