The smoke drifted hazily up to the rafters, and the cadence of the auctioneer's voice sounded just like I remembered. The cattle in the ring, a nice set of black steer calves, sold just under a dollar, and I smiled. The market was up, the buyers were in the seats - it was gonna be fun.

I haven't been to a livestock auction in years. I used to go with my dad when I was growing up. We didn't go that often - there was too much work to get done, but when he was looking for replacement heifers or selling the cull cows, we'd hay and feed and then head to the sale. Oddly enough, I don't ever remember looking around and wondering why there weren't many other girls there, especially young ones as I was. Everybody knew dad and I just thought that's where I was supposed to be.

The best sales to go to, of course, were the yearling sales. There's an energy surrounding yearling sales that doesn't exist at a cow sale. Maybe it's because all the feedlot buyers are there. Maybe it's because a year of hard work and hard times are sitting in the ring. Maybe it's because there's just something about seeing a nice set of red steers...or black, white or yellow...milling about in the ring. Everyone in the crowd kind of leans forward when one of those nice sets of calves come through the gates. There is an appreciation for good beef at a livestock auction that doesn't exist outside of this world.

The thing is, the cattle business can feel awfully lonely. If it's not calving struggles, it's shortage of feed, bad weather or slow market prices. And all of those lead to the ultimate problem of the banker knocking on the door wanting his money. Pretty soon, it feels like you're the only one facing these problems. Cubicle workers don't have to fight mud or lie awake at night wondering if they should keep the steers on feed for another two weeks in hopes of the market improving, and sometimes the overwhelming task of trying to beat the odds gets pretty heavy.

Popping into the sale last week reminded me what I liked so much about the livestock auction. It's a culture. It's a support group - in an informal, unspoken way. Just looking around, you realize you're not in this business alone, and sometimes, that's all it takes to help you jump out of bed ready to face another day.

We started feeding our cattle a few weeks ago while I was gone to Australia and New Zealand.  I returned from the southern hemisphere’s warm and sunny summer to cold Nevada.  I guess I can’t really call it cold, it’s been warmer than usual this week, but it still feels cold to me coming from hot weather.  We have been feeding our stocker calves dried distiller’s grains (DDG) since December.  In early January we split the group into two herds, the heaviest 59 calves continued receiving a maintenance diet of DDG and winter pasture while the lightest 117 went on an alfalfa diet as hay is very cheap at this time.  Our spring calvers eat stockpiled summer forage until a week before we start calving and then get fed a little cow hay every other day. 

There’s not much else to say about feeding hay except I’m always happy when we are finished even though we feed a lot less hay than just about everybody else around here.  A cow here gets about $40 of supplemental feeding (this includes fuel and labor costs) each year.

It was a cloudy when I loaded the hay on our 1964 GMC 5000 in preparation for feeding.  It started snowing while my sister Leslie was feeding the light stockers.  By the time we made it over to the first calf heifers large wet flakes were really coming down.  Yesterday afternoon I was on

cow checking duty and brought in a first calf heifer that needed a little help.  I pulled my first calf of the season last night and I’m thankful all we had was a little rain for weather at the time.

The weather seems to be a reoccurring theme in everyone’s conversations right now.  I just keep waiting for a break in the snow and cold.  Just a few days ago, I got that break in the weather.  After I was finished feeding the cattle, I was enjoying some sunshine and my mind started to wonder.  Being the fifth generation on my family’s farm, I was wondering  how did the old timers survive these kind of harsh conditions?

As I sat there, looking at the piece of land my great grandfather spent his entire life on, I was thinking of all the changes that have taken place since he was my age.  Things like buying his first tractor, rural electricity, and milking the cows by hand each morning.  He lived to be an old man, and since he lived a quarter mile up the road from my parents place, I knew him well.  I was eighteen when he passed.  I remember his stories almost word for word.

Then I came back to the here and now.  I started to reflect on the challenges that are facing me.  While most are just the normal struggles of life, one stood out to me as totally uncalled for.  I live in an age where media biased is accepted.  I’ll quickly recap, what I am referring to.  In 2009 there was a terrible article in “Time” magazine and the movie “Food Inc.”

I felt so flabbergasted when each of these were released.  I was wondering why somebody that had never met me would spread lies about what I do.  Where did these lies about food production originate from and for what purpose?  I’ll probably never know.

I once heard somewhere that the word fear is an acronym.  It stands for False Evidence Appearing Real.  I guess that is about how I would sum the “Time” article and “Food Inc” movie.  I have been one to ask lots of questions.  So I pondered, why didn’t the outlets mention the Beef Quality Assurance program that so many ranchers participate in?  Why didn’t it mention how the beef industry spends millions of dollars of its own money on things like food safety, research and testing?  Why didn’t they point out how farmers and ranchers, like me, are good stewards of the land, and how our goal is to improve it for the next generation?  All I could do was shrug my shoulders and offer myself this simple answer to my own questions.  The truth about what I do wouldn’t fit the FEAR theme.

As I stood there looking off at the horizon, to where my great grandfather’s house once stood, I came to a realization.  His dad had the same goal I do.  To produce safe, wholesome, delicious food for the people around us.  At that point I had to grin and shrug my shoulders again.  Some things haven’t changed that much after all.

We’ve all heard, “don’t put all your eggs in one basket.”  Pretty straight-forward thinking, spread the risk, diversify.  It’s a basic principle of financial investing and the key theme of a risk management workshop.  There is, however, an alternative.  As the American literary genius (this blogger’s opinion) Mark Twain put it in his book Puddn’head Wilson, “put all your eggs in one basket and WATCH THAT BASKET.”  I guess if you think about it, it’s the only other alternative to not putting all your eggs in one basket.

Now I’m not talking about the business of your farms or ranches.  If you’re a fulltime rancher you probably have other sources of income besides cattle.  Speaking for my family we generate revenue from timber, sod, hay, citrus groves, etc.  If you’re a part-timer you obviously have another job.  Or maybe you're involved in the cattle industry in some other way; sales, research, teaching, etc.  What if the “basket” I’m talking about is our way of life, our industry?  All my eggs are in that basket and I intend to keep it safe!  Keep it safe from media snakes and government varmints.  Keep it safe from rabid extremists like HSUS and PETA.  Some of them want to pluck an egg right from you, scramble it up and have you watch them eat it.  Others are waiting for you to take a little siesta.  And some will clumsily step into our basket.  Nonetheless, without watchful eyes our bounty will diminish.

Are you watching the basket?  Would you like to raise your brood where you were raised?  Do you want to continue to roost each night right where you are now?  Are you a free-range chicken???  Now I’m getting carried away, but seriously, do your part – WATCH THAT BASKET! 

If you’ve been paying attention to college basketball lately you know that my Alma Mater, Kansas State University, beat the No. 1 ranked Texas Longhorns.  A friend of mine attended the game and said she could see prominently in the crowd a K-State fan with a sign that said “Eat Beef, Go Cats!” She sent me this blurry picture, taken from her camera phone. The arrow is pointing to the sign.

I’m all for creative ways of getting the message across. Think of how many people would have seen this sign in Bramlage Coliseum that night.

Here’s another K-State sports sign that referenced Ag. This one is from football season. It’s a bit more controversial, taking a jab at ex University of Kansas football coach Mark Mangino at the same time.

I can see how some may take offense to the second sign, and I’m not trying to encourage poking fun at others. However, as long as people keep eating beef and cheering for the Cats, I’m happy.

EMAW (Every Man a Wildcat),

Chelsea

In the last three weeks of my life I have worn a cap and gown, graduated from Auburn University with my bachelor’s of science in agriculture communications, have signed a lease for an apartment, bought furniture and moved to Macon, Ga. to work for the Georgia Cattlemen’s Association. Whew! Wasn’t it just yesterday, I was learning how to brush, clip and fit my show calves. How I cherish going home to the farm now, not only to see the family, but to go out to the barn and help dad with the chores, like feeding the cows. That’s when it hit me. Life is like feeding the cows. Here, let me explain.More...