Wieldy – easily controlled or handled; capable of being wielded easily; readily wielded or managed, as in use or action; agile, nimble.
Dairy farmers may be essential workers, but that doesn’t necessarily mean “business as usual” when it comes to mental health during lockdown. Waikato dairy farmer Sam Owen offers practical advice on how to look after family, friends, staff and yourself.
Murphy’s Law – after dodging a bit of a bullet in 2020, Covid has now reared its ugly head during one of the busiest times on farm.
Luckily, there are so many ways we can look after not only ourselves, but our staff and others in our rural communities as well.
We all know that keeping good mental health during the spring period is critical. But what does that actually look like in practice? . .
’Keep in contact with each other’ – Peter Burke:
Keep connecting. That’s the message to farmers from the chair of the Rural Support Trust, Neil Bateup.
He told Dairy News that since lockdown the trust probably haven’t had as many requests as they normally get, but the trust is still there to help.
He says because of the Covid lockdown they won’t go out to a farm unless it’s an emergency but people can still do things by phone.
An issue that has cropped up, and one that is hard to deal with, is when farm staff change jobs and problems arise. Bateup says the best they can do is refer individuals to MPI or Federated Farmers, who can help deal with contractual matters. . .
”To be a good leader, you have to first know your ‘why,’” says Ravensdown shareholder and Agri-Women’s Development Trust (AWDT) Escalator programme graduate Donna Cram.
“For me it is to connect people across agricultural communities using values-based communication to empower collaboration.”
Donna, a dairy farmer at Wylan Dene farm near Awatuna in South Taranaki, was one of 14 women chosen by AWDT to take part in their annual Escalator programme. It gives women in the food and fibre sector the mindsets, skills and connections to lead, govern and inspire.
Donna says the experience has helped her understand more about her own leadership qualities. . .
While some people are attracted to the more solitary parts of a rural working life, many farming women seek out others going through the same experiences, according to Ravensdown shareholder Jo Hay.
“Farming can be a pretty lonely lifestyle. It’s important for women in agriculture to have a supportive group where they can discuss their experiences and bring their ideas to life.”
Jo Hay and husband Ross have operated a family sheep and beef farm in Herbert, 20 minutes south of Oamaru since 2006. Jo was a teacher in Oamaru for 6 years before returning to farm life after the birth of their first child.
That’s when she took part in the Agri-Women’s Development Trust (AWDT) “Understanding Your Farming Business” course. . .
Helping farmers find ‘aha’ moments – Alice Scott:
Helping farmers find their “aha moments” was Steven Nichol’s reason for choosing to step away from the day-to-day rigours of running his own farm and set up a farm consultancy business.
Mr Nichol grew up on the family farm at Clarks Junction and, in 2007, he was able to farm a portion of the family property as a stand-alone economic unit.
“I reflect back on those early years; all the things I wish I knew then that I know now. The thing that always used to bug me was finding ways to create a farming system that would produce consistently good results.”
A season could be impacted in many ways and Mr Nichol said it was learning how to measure those variables in order to make “proactive decisions” rather than “reactive moves”. . .
Nicolette Hahn Niman was an environmental lawyer who became a cattle rancher, and didn’t eat meat for 33 years. For both the ecosystem and human health, she argues, it’s how animals are farmed that matters.
After refusing to eat meat for 33 years, Nicolette Hahn Niman bit tentatively into a beefburger two years ago. She had become a vegetarian because she was concerned about animal welfare and the environmental cost of meat. Unlike most vegetarians, she had experience of the dire conditions on factory farms during her career as an environmental lawyer campaigning against pollution caused by industrial meat production in the US. Then she married a farmer.
Hahn Niman’s journey from vegetarian activist to cattle rancher to writing a book called Defending Beef may be driven by love, but it is also informed by a lawyerly desire to stick up for small farmers besieged by the growing ethical and environmental clamour against meat. The burger turned out to be an unexpectedly delicious brief pleasure, but it was the 18 years working on the ranch alongside the man who grilled it – and raised the cow – her husband, Bill Niman, that inspired her. . .
The King asked
The Queen, and
The Queen asked
“Could we have some butter for
The Royal slice of bread?”
The Queen asked the Dairymaid,
I’ll go and tell the cow
Before she goes to bed.”
And went and told
“Don’t forget the butter for
The Royal slice of bread.”
“You’d better tell
That many people nowadays
And went to
She curtsied to the Queen, and
She turned a little red:
For taking of
But marmalade is tasty, if
The Queen said
And went to
“Talking of the butter for
The royal slice of bread,
Would you like to try a little
The King said,
And then he said,
“Oh, deary me!”
The King sobbed, “Oh, deary me!”
And went back to bed.
“Could call me
A fussy man;
I only want
A little bit
Of butter for
The Queen said,
And went to
Said, “There, there!”
And went to the shed.
The cow said,
I didn’t really
Here’s milk for his porringer,
And butter for his bread.”
The Queen took
And brought it to
The King said,
And bounced out of bed.
“Nobody,” he said,
As he kissed her
“Nobody,” he said,
As he slid down the banisters,
Could call me
A fussy man –
I do like a little bit of butter to my bread!”
Prompted by this:
Who or what does this remind you of?:
Intention these days is nine-tenths of virtue, and intention is measured mainly by what people say that their intentions are.
The words are Theodore Dalrymple’s and he was writing about urban environmentalists and their belief in the green credentials of electric cars but it immediately made me think of our government.
Many of its intentions are good.
Who could argue against solving the housing crisis, reducing poverty or keeping us all safe from Covid-19?
But intentions are not achievements and time and time again the government’s good intentions have got very little, if any, further than their announcements.
Housing prices have escalated so that even outside the big cities they’re selling for far too many times the average wage. That has made anyone who doesn’t own their own home poorer and worsened conditions for people already struggling to pay the rent and power and feed their families.
The government won a few skirmishes against Covid-19 last year but the war continues and we’re all having to fight the latest battle because the intention to keep the disease out hasn’t been matched by learning from past mistakes and ensuring they’re not repeated.
Then there’s Afghanistan.
No doubt the government intended to rescue all New Zealand citizens and the locals who had helped our army but again it’s fallen well short in delivering, leaving behind an estimated 375 New Zealand citizens, visa holders, and Afghan allies.
New Zealand isn’t alone in the botched withdrawal but that doesn’t make our government any less culpable for letting those people down and making the chances of getting them out successfully much, much poorer.
The proverb tells us the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
It is too big a stretch to say the government is taking us to hell, but its repeated failure to deliver on its good intentions certainly aren’t helping New Zealand feel like paradise.