Will’s World: Promises, paperwork, and a positive TB test
© Lee Boswell Photography I’ve spent a lot of time on my own in a tractor cab lately, and one of the things I’ve been thinking about is balance. I’ve always tried very hard to live a balanced life, and especially since becoming a father all those years ago.
When I held our eldest daughter in my arms for the first time, and saw those beautiful eyes staring back at me, I made a promise to her, and myself, that I’d be present in her life as much as I possibly could, and so far I’ve just about managed to keep it.
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I’ve rarely missed any of our now numerous daughters’ school performances or parents’ evenings, and have been there to cheer them on their sports days.
I’ve held their little hands as we’ve waited in A&E to get injuries repaired, and have even suffered countless times through the small-talk-with-other-parents-hell that are children’s parties.
Driven to distraction
Now I’m firmly in the “dad taxi” stage of the parenting journey, spending a huge amount of time ferrying them to their various sports clubs and activities.
It’s one of my favourite things to do as it’s the only time I get to talk with them about what’s currently going on in their lives.
I say talk, but they’re pre-teens and teenagers, so often it’s more like an occasional grunt. But that’s OK, I’m there if they need me.
It’s far from easy, though, and lately I’ve felt like I haven’t got the balance right.
I’ve been there in person, but I haven’t been fully present, with my mind being on a hundred other things.
So much so, in fact, that I’ve begun to ask myself a question that I never thought I would – is it worth it?
Not parenthood, I hasten to add, but farming.
It could be just the time of year, with the dark nights and bad weather coming in, and the prospect of another long winter ahead.
Or it might be the fact that I’ve been busy putting next year’s crops in the ground and know that it’s hardly worth doing for the price they’ll make.
Perhaps it’s the confirmation that five of our cattle have tested positive for TB and are waiting to be taken away, with seven more to be re-tested next week, and months of worry and uncertainty ahead for us as a family.
Effort v reward
Maybe it’s the rent increase that we’ve had on one of our farm business tenancies that feels like a particular kick in the teeth.
Or is it the existential dread of the small mountain of admin that’s waiting for me in the farm office after we get finished drilling?
It feels like it’s never-ending these days, and I don’t seem to have any time to plan strategically or think about opportunities – I’m just fighting fires at every turn.
I know I’m not alone in feeling like this; I’ve had several conversations lately with friends who are feeling a similar way.
Every family farm I know seems to be short-staffed and under severe financial and mental pressure, and I wonder where we’re heading as an industry if we carry on in this vein.
I’ve often been told that as farmers we’re not in it for the money, but the lifestyle.
I’ve always felt this was more than a little disingenuous, but I take the point.
For many of us it’s about being part of a community and being true to our family heritage. Unfortunately that doesn’t pay the ever-increasing bills.
I wonder, at what point does carrying on a legacy become carrying a burden?