If you are going to fall on your ass in front of a bull, make sure it's a docile one
"What made you want to become a farmer?" This is by far and away the most common question asked of my husband after finding out that he did not grow up on a farm. Farming wasn't in his blood. It wasn't a family path. In fact, he had never been near cows, chickens, horses, or pigs prior to meeting me. It does come as quite a shock when people learn that I am a born and raised farm girl and my husband was a city boy. Not long after we had first started dating, we were driving down my farm's long driveway on our way to get some takeout for our dinner and a movie night. It was such a dreary evening with a heavy enough rain that it soaked through your hair, yet light enough that you didn't quite know if you needed the windshield wipers or not. Plus, there was a chill in the early spring time air. We were passing the cattle's barn and saw something dark on the gravel against the wall. It was a newborn calf! The little guy, at probably ...