From the Editor

As my parents work on retiring from the daily demands of dairying, I like to invite them south (by about 40 minutes) to my hobby farm where things naturally operate at a slower pace.

One word.

Each year, I pick a single word by which to live. It becomes my mantra for the next 12 months, acting as a guide not just for personal goals, but also personal growth.

In October, we celebrated the life of the matriarch of my father’s family. She passed away just about two weeks shy of what would have been her 94th birthday. For most of my life, she seemed invincible.

A wise old Norwegian once said, “Cookies are made with butter and love.”

This I know to be true.

When we are young, we ourselves don’t always recognize our talents, but our parents sometimes do. From an early age, my mom noticed I had a knack for dairy judging. So she pushed me, more than any of my five siblings.

About two years ago, right before the leaves turned, I jumped on a bus for three days with 200 dairy farmers from around the world as part of the ABS Global Experience.