We are becoming farmers baby

Gerhard and I were city dwellers, it was in our blood, we had been out of the small town of Middelburg, Mpumalanga for almost 10 years.  We left to go to varsity in Pretoria and never returned.  I liked the city.  I loved the idea of being able to go grocery shopping at 4 o’clock on a Sunday afternoon.  I loved the fact that you were never more than a kilometre away from a Woollies Food.  I loved the craziness and the people, the hustle and the bustle.  We were city dwellers. 

 

Gerhard finished his articles and was a fully fledged CA, I was working at Ernst & Young in Johannesburg and loving it.  Gerhard battled to find a job as this was the start of EE in South Africa.  In the end, he landed a lovely position in Middelburg, and started a long year of commuting the 150 kilometers a day to Middelburg. 

I could see that this was not sustainable and in the end, I resigned from EY. Moved to a house in Middelburg, EY did not accept my resignation, so for another year I commuted.  I slept in a hotel in Joburg on Tuesday and Wednesdays and spent Mondays and Fridays working from home.  This was also rather hectic and I resigned a second and final time. 

It was during this period that we built a house on my dad’s farm and moved to the farm.  And I was bored senseless within minutes after arriving on the farm.  Well, in that case, there is obviously only one thing to do baby, we will start farming…

Now for those that know me, I am not farmer material, I go for facials and pedicures, I wear suits to work, I belong in the boardroom damnit.  So how did it come about that I was clearing the muck from what was soon to become my diary you might ask.  How did I learn all about the trials and tribulations of the dairy farmer, know about things like mastitis and ‘rooi water’.  Heaven only knows.  Well, we did it, we bought a registered herd of jerseys, we put up the dairy, I learnt all there is to know about feed technology, illnesses, calves, milk production, milk hygiene and the like.  It was an interesting yet rough ride. 

What do I miss most about my days as a farmer you might ask?  My white gumboots of course!  There is nothing that quite beats getting dressed for work in a pair of jeans and t-shirts and a pair of Wellies.  I would trade that for my little black suit and high heels any day.