Thursday, April 25, 2024

I have often thought the study of science ought to be fun. Mostly, the subject of science in the classroom feels, to the majority of students, like drudgery and boring recitation of facts.

Throughout Ohio there has been a great deal of discussion about increasing profits for local dairy farms.

Drop a pebble in the ag policy pond and the resulting ripples seem to rush over many farmers' self-interest.

While it is true that every day is filled with blessings, there is something about September that leads me to believe that there are more blessings in every single day of this certain month than we can count on our two hands.

Let me state, for the record, what has long been suspected and recently proven: I am not a trooper. Trooper.

I meant to grab a refill for my checkbook and was sorry to find an empty check box. I don't remember taking out the last set of checks and don't remember any order form that should have been sent in.

Beautiful trills of birdsong drifted through the bathroom window. As I raised the mini-blind halfway, I expected to see, somewhere, a goldfinch.

I have to be perfectly honest. Since working as the herdsman at Misty Dale Dairy Farm in Highland County after graduating from the dairy science department at OSU, I have done a poor job of keeping up with the ever-changing genetic evaluations of our AI sires.

Farmers and ranchers live in an ocean of numbers. And like the tide, the numbers - pigs-per-litter, gain-per-pound, bushels-per-acre, dollars-per-bushel - can't be held back; they keep coming and keep adding to our nation's food story.

Farmers and ranchers live in an ocean of numbers. And like the tide, the numbers - pigs-per-litter, gain-per-pound, bushels-per-acre, dollars-per-bushel - can't be held back; they keep coming and keep adding to our nation's food story.