A bit more than a year ago, my daughter (aged 9) told me that she was worried I didn’t have a job.
All her friends’ daddies are butchers and bakers and hedge fund managers etc, and she comes home from school just to find me here on the farm.
Clearly, I’d have to do something to regain her approval and not be a disappointment. But with 60 or 70 hours a week spent farming, extra time can be short.
See also: Farmers have a duty to their communities, says Sam Walker
I’m not sure the local bin company would take on a knackered farmer who was only available during the hours of darkness, and for some reason the male modelling agency never rang back.
But when I saw an opportunity to rant about stuff for Farmers Weekly, I thought I could probably squeeze that in.
My first Opinion article was pretty much a year ago, and I was writing about the potential for 2022, coping when faced with uncertainty, and trying to find a few “sure things” to cling to.
To quote Robert Burns, “there’s no such uncertainty as a sure thing”. And now, a year on, the future seems less predictable than ever.
In 2022 we have had three prime ministers, two monarchs, a European war started by a nuclear-armed superpower, a drought that surpassed even 2018 (on this farm, anyway) and a government agricultural policy that seems to be going backwards.
On the farm, it was a rollercoaster. The crops looked great, then got whacked by drought, but prices rose and we were OK again.
The cattle went down with TB, a favourite cow was dragged from her calf to a state-sponsored execution, and two tests later we were clear.
The other day I was sent a copy of that thought-provoking piece of work Preparing for change: The characteristics of top performing farms, published by the AHDB four years ago.
It states: “More than 70% of the difference between top and bottom quartile farms is due to decisions made by the farmer. The factors a farmer cannot change are mostly of small importance to performance.”
I think this year has challenged that assumption. But next year we get a chance to have another go, with a clean slate and 12 months’ more farming education on board.
As ever, resilient farming is about looking after the things you can influence for the better, and I have decided that 2023 is going to be the Year of the Microbe at Stantyway Farm.
Well, something’s got to make these organic yields improve and, according to everyone I talk to, this means looking after your soil fauna and fungi.
It is also an excuse to buy an old 24-metre sprayer, apply some organic-approved potions, and challenge a few assumptions. It will also get the neighbours excited when they see the tramlines.
Back in my student days, almost every expedition in my ancient, asthmatic Land Rover would start with my mate Rob doing his best impression of a greasy fairground operator, announcing, “Hold tight riders. Scream girls if you want to go faster.”
(If the passengers made enough noise it could sometimes hit 45 on the flat, but I digress…)
I’m not going to make any predictions for 2023, but my best advice would be: “Hold tight riders…”
