Knolltop Farm Wife

 On our 250 th birthday of the great experiment called the United States of America, there is so much patriotic content to consume and I’m here for every bit of it. The choirs singing patriotic songs, the flag that is being carried on foot by country loving patriots from Washington state to Washington DC and the constant barrage of fireworks from freedom loving Americans is just what this country needs. This beautiful yet battered experiment of people wanting to be free from the tyranny of a king needs to be front and center for every American citizen.  The FIFA World Cup has brought in visitors from around the world who are discovering America for the first time and loving it.  They love our freedom. They love our free refills and they love the beauty from corner to corner that is America. They have given us a gift. They have reminded us that we have taken for granted that we live freely, speak freely and travel freely through a country filled with like-minded y...

 Who is excited about artificial intelligence and data centers? My social media algorithm must have picked up on my skepticism of AI, because lately it has been feeding me anti-AI videos with a vengeance. I can’t say I’m upset about it. I recently watched clips from two college graduations where featured speakers praised the promise of AI — only to be booed by the graduates. The next generation does not seem entirely sold on AI, and honestly, that gives me hope. We are living through one of the worst eras of graphic design. Social media is flooded with AI-generated images that all seem to share the same crowded, overworked look. They are often so busy that the main message gets lost. For people without design experience, AI can feel like an easy shortcut — an instant file that creates the illusion of creativity while depending entirely on the work of human designers who came before it. Think about it: there is nothing truly original about AI. Nothing. There is no human ha...

It was a situation I glossed over.  I didn’t have to deal with it every single day but it was often enough for me to go to my Bible study group and submit it as a prayer request.  They would listen to me and invariably one or two of them would tell me, “You’ve got to take care of that. Get rid of it.” I knew I should, but I didn’t want to face the conflict and I was fearful of the consequences.  Life would not be the same. I would have to find other avenues to fill the void that the resolution would create. So instead of facing it once and for all, I worked around it.  I figured out ways to deal with it. My work was suffering because of it, but I kept making excuses that it would get better over time.  If I just kept feeding the monster, it would be satisfied, and things would work out. But that’s not what happened. I had sleepless nights of worry; I was short-tempered and spent a lot of time wringing my hands and waiting for a better result. Before you start ...

By Melissa Hart On the cover of the recent Michigan Dairy Cattle News is a photo of the Wolverine Purebred Livestock Sales Pavilion, a massive sales arena that sat on Grand River between Williamston and Okemos in the 1950s and 60s.  This same photo was on the cover of the 1955 Holstein Michigander, the predecessor of the Michigan-Indiana Holstein News and the Michigan Dairy Cattle News. I put that photo on the cover because it harkened back to a time when the Registered Holstein business was thriving in Michigan.  There were sales in every corner of the state and Michigan Holstien genetics were sought after by breeders from across the country. The Wolverine Sales Pavilion was built by Clarence B. Smith after World War II who came north from Kentucky as an auto worker.  His love for cattle led him to manage Baynewood owned by E.M. Bayne at Romeo, MI. There he developed the great Royal Ormsby, the 141 st cow of the breed to produce over 1000 pounds of fat in one ye...

 By Melissa Hart News isn’t news anymore, it’s drama used as a weapon to stir up emotions and fuel our hatred for the opposite, polarizing point of view. I used to watch it religiously, but now I rarely spend my time or energy on it. If I were to believe what they tell me, every convenience store would be in a state of robbery, every country leader would qualify to be institutionalized and race would be the basis of every decision from friendship to farm loans. I just got back from a trip to Texas and witnessed the opposite of what you see on any media source.  I saw vast farm fields full of fertile soil getting ready to grow cotton, rice, corn and beans. Vibrant farm towns were still in existence with pick-up trucks parked outside of local diners packed full on a Saturday night. I drove thru Clear Fork Coffee Company in Albany, Texas for a great cup of coffee and a Texas Cheater that hit the spot. Kind people were the trend not the exception. I missed the trash can wi...

Hauling things out of my parent’s farmhouse to sell in a yard sale was how my sister and I spent our Memorial Day weekend.  With each dust-covered box, we found a treasure trove of history we were just now discovering about our mom. Sorting through files and photos, we were seeing the dimension of a self-less mom grow into a person we never knew existed. I mentioned in an earlier column about the things we never knew about our mom, but the sacrifice of her life has never been clearer. Growing up, stories of her college days were plentiful but several details were left out as she concentrated on raising a family and helping her husband of six decades run a farm.  We knew she was a successful vocalist in college, but we never knew she recorded an album until we pulled out an old 78 vinyl record and listened to her lyrical voice through the crackle and pop of the old relic. We knew she was the first woman on the Michigan State livestock judging team, but we had no idea she wa...

Sitting in a motel room in Princeton, West Virginia, is not where I expected to be this week after a long two months of being on the road covering shows.  But here I am looking out the window at beautiful mountains in full color. My daughter was headed to cover the South Carolina State Fair when she called with her car broken down on the side of the highway at 8 pm on a Friday night.  We got the car safely towed to a shop but we had to get her and her assistant headed to Columbia, SC.  Because her assistant was also a Virginia Tech graduate, Wytheville, Virginia was a friendly place to be stranded.  Several phone calls later and helpful texts from the exhibitors in Columbia, South Carolina, the two girls were on their way in a borrowed car from Virginia Tech Dairy Judging Team coach, Dr. Katharine Knowlton. Thankful for a generous judging coach who has made a career of teaching and loving the next generation of our ag leaders I was elated when I heard the show ...

By Melissa Hart Imagine four-wheel drive John Deere tractors gathering cobwebs in a pole barn with doors that hadn’t been opened in months.  Can you see fallow farm ground growing up with weeds and annoying brush?  Or farm lanes that are grown over because there was no traffic in or out of the farm. The grease guns are never used, the farm implements rusting away behind the barn and no fuel trucks in and out of the driveway for lack of need.  The neighborhood equipment dealer would cease selling new tractors, and electric lawn mowers would be the new hot item.  The parts manager would also serve as the bookkeeper, the part time mechanic and the custodian.  There would be one grain elevator to serve the entire county, one farm store would be able to serve three counties and the seed dealer and chemical salesman would be an online store somewhere in Kansas.  Stockyards would close up, vibrant diners that served local farmers would shutter their doors and ...

 By Melissa Hart As I look at my keyboard, I see wrinkled hands and chipped nail polish on a 56-year-old body that has endured and enjoyed five decades as a female.  Living an imperfect life, I am a daughter, wife, mom and aunt.  And I will never be able to change that. It’s how God made me. But lately there is a loud minority of folks who want the privilege to change their gender and are trying to make the rest of us think it’s as natural as a bull sniffing the rump of a cow in heat. There is a young college athlete who was born a male.  He was created by God as a male and no matter what, his DNA will always be XY. With that chromosomal content, he will have the tendency to be a conqueror, a protector and a fighter. But his fight is to become a woman and he is being allowed to compete in the NCAA women’s swimming events, smashing records set by women, as a man. I will not pretend to know what is going through his mind, but I do know that he and everyone who is...

By Melissa Hart  You want me to do what? Produce a magazine four times a year?  I had no experience in magazines, printing, ad design, selling advertising, much less any thoughts about a media kit, cover designs, bleeds, or ad specs. I was a freelance writer.  I knew how to type words in a word document and send it to the newspaper or magazine, but to actually come up with a complete magazine, nope, not for me. I knew I couldn’t come up with editorial content that anyone wanted to read. I knew I would never be able to sell advertising, or come up with a reason why someone should advertise. I knew I would never have the time to sell, write, edit and hire a designer, who was I fooling? Or better yet, what was God thinking? My first reaction to any challenge is fear.  Fear of failure, fear of not knowing what I need to know and fear of people being disappointed in me.  I know I’m not alone, but when I’m sitting in my office and there is no one there to pa...

 By Melissa Hart By the time you are reading this, Pleasant Meadow Farms will have dispersed their herd and the milk pump will never be turned on again by Melvin, Phyllis or Mark Fledderjohann.  When I was asked to write a feature story on this family, my first thought was, ‘ They are selling out, why would I write a feature story about that?’ The Fledderjohanns have been milking Registered Holsteins on their western Ohio farm since 1968 where they provided a living for their families with 70 milk cows. Mark was the only son to come back to the farm where he and his parents have worked together for decades. He has a wife who wants to spend time with him, and two kids who need their dad’s involvement and the demand of the farm has kept him at a distance far too long, so for Mark in his late 50s, it was time to close the chapter on dairy farming. Melvin and Phyllis are in their 80s and while still in great health and with the mental attitude of a couple of 40-year-olds, they t...

 By Melissa Hart   Starch was a staple growing up.  My mom would spend a few afternoons every week standing over an ironing board making sure all of my dad’s clothes were starched and looking crisp.  She didn’t stop there, she would starch her clothes, dad’s hankies, her aprons, doilies, cloth napkins that were used on special occasions and especially the tablecloths that donned the dinner table on Sunday afternoons when we were likely to have company for dinner. Seeing my mom set up her ironing board in the kitchen was a normal part of growing up and I thought all moms did that, until I found out they didn’t. But I did.  Early in our marriage I had a big pile of ironing, just like my mom.  And within the pile, along with my husband’s shirts, his Wrangler jeans, and crocheted doilies were pillowcases.  Again, I thought everyone starched their pillowcases, until I found out they didn’t. This led me to asking mom why on earth we starched pillowca...

I have a new podcast out on Spotify and Apple Podcasts!  It's the Dairy Agenda Today  EXTRA Podcast with Chris Hill  ! Chris and his wife, Jen, operate MD-Hillbrook in Maryland and specialize in marketing purebred dairy genetics. Chris took a few minutes out of his day while he was trucking cattle to the Maryland State Fair to visit about how he became an auctioneer and how on earth he can breath while crying a sale!  If you enjoy the podcast, share it on your social media channels!

On a Friday afternoon at the state fair, I typed up show results and posted photos of a show that was happening in front of me at the Farmer’s Coliseum in downtown Indianapolis.  Four rings of cattle were on exhibition while clerks, queens and announcers kept the pace of the show moving forward for spectators enjoying a vanilla shake and a hot grilled cheese. On one side of me was a young woman who had just moved back from Iowa and was telling me about her entrepreneurial idea of opening a western wear boutique, behind me sat a former state officer for Indiana FFA and was headed to Purdue to major in ag communications with a desire to get into ag broadcasting. And on my left-hand side was my youngest son who was just along for the fun and giggles. He was flanked by the Indiana Holstein Queen who hailed from Turtle Town, USA, otherwise known as Churubusco, Indiana—don’t think there weren’t some great stories about turtle races throughout the day. On that same Friday afternoon,...

Visiting with my oldest son over coffee he said, “I have a question for you.”  Whenever he says that I always brace myself because it’s usually a question that involves lots of thought and sometimes I have no idea how to answer him. He asked, “When you get together with your lady’s group, do you complain about your husbands?” I said, “Sometimes.” Then he asked, “And when you do complain, you all pile on, right?” It was a great opportunity to explain to him how the healthy support of other women can make the difference between a vibrant family life and insanity. The ladies I meet with week after week not only support each other, but we support each other’s spouses, kids, grandkids and parents.  I can’t count the number of times I was spitting nails about something that happened earlier in the day and recounted the circumstance in great detail waiting for everyone to fly to my defense only to have them point me right back to the positive, the good and the hopeful aspec...

 On a hot day in July, I sat ringside at the Elkhart County Fair in Goshen, Indiana and watched the arena fill up with spectators as the 4-H dairy show began.  We have been covering their 4-H show for a few years now and I always look forward to it.  There’s just something about a county fair that makes everyone feel like the world is right.  Whether it’s the parents running around trying to wrangle their kids to the right ring, or grandparents smiling proudly in the stands, a county fair is one week out of the year that makes sense to everyone. And if you listen closely, you’ll hear the idle chatter from folks who have lived in the county for decades. These people have been coming to the county fair for years and now they are enjoying the third and fourth generation of family 4-Her’s.  Old farmers, relatives, local businessmen, they all like to stand at the rail and watch the show. For eight hours I sat at the table and listened to people come, lean over the ...

I just about spit out my coffee while reading a recent email that proposed I take over a certain position.  It would mean a commitment to something I barely knew anything about.  It would mean I would lead a group of people who didn’t even know me.  And it would mean a sacrifice of time, energy, learning, and compassion.  As fast as the email came in, was about as fast as the thought exited my mind.  I wasn’t qualified.  I had no time for this. My knowledge was way below average, and I could name about 10,000 other things I would be better suited for.  I can’t tell you how many times this has happened to me.  An idea was introduced, and I immediately dismissed it as something I could never do.  Motherhood, writing, homeschooling, backing a manure spreader down a hill into position, starting an IV in a cow, the list goes on and on of things I said I could NEVER do and yet found myself doing exactly that. My problem is, I think I should...

 “Sometimes it’s better to appear a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.” That was a quote my dad repeated often. Not in a derogatory way, but he knew that I needed to listen more and talk less. I was the talker in the family.  My report cards from elementary school always had a comment from the teacher about excessive talking in class.  I was constantly ‘shushed’ at the library, so much so that I hated going there. Why would we all go into a room and not talk? While I’ve tempered my tongue slightly, I still tend to ask questions, make suggestions without being asked and I usually speak up when I should quiet down. While at a show recently, I suggested to the ring steward that she move the final lineup of cattle to a different spot so that it was easier to get a better photo. She refused.  In fact, she didn’t speak to me for the rest of the show. I told my husband about it and he kindly explained to me that sometimes I come on a little strong. Years...

 FOMO is real and is plaguing people of every generation.  It adds anxiety, builds discontentment, robs you of your present joy, and steals every moment that would normally bring you happiness. Fear Of Missing Out. It’s funny that something that has nagged people for years now has its own abbreviation and is used on every social media platform by millions. We have all felt it.  No one wants to miss out on an opportunity of a lifetime or the chance to do something fun but what price are we willing to pay to keep FOMO at bay? Young moms everywhere have been told they can have it all, it only takes balance. They are told, if you don’t have a fulfilling career, you are missing out.  If you don’t experience all the joys of motherhood, you are missing out.  If you work full-time at an entry-level job, you are wasting your time.  If you stay home with your children you are wasting your earning potential and your family will starve. We have convinced a genera...

 On one of the hottest days of the year, I took my camera and met my son and his intended bride in the wheat field so I could snap a few photos for their engagement announcement.   Luke and Jessie have been together since 7th grade....that was 2007.  And he finally decided to propose.  She said yes, and we all said....finally! They will be married in October, but I thought I would post a few of the photos that we took last week!