The first thing you should know about me is that I am a farmer. No, not that I grew up on a farm and did the farm kid thing until I left for college at a Liberal Arts School. That is not the whole story. I, myself, am a farmer and rancher, with my own land and my own cows as part of our family operation. I will graduate this December, and then move back to the same house I grew up in (my parents have bought a lake home to move to) to be a full time farmer, rancher and do some coaching for fun on the side.

I grew up not knowing any other way of life than the one I lived. I have never had a job off the farm. I really don't even think of the farm as a job or a career. It is truly a way of life. There is not anyone else to get your work done for you. The success of the farm depends only on us, that is my parents, myself, our one hired hand (my uncle Joel), and the other family members that help out from time to time. That means during certain times of year we will work 100 hours in a week, if the weather allows. Luckily, there are other times of year when we sometimes work less than the normal 40 hours per week (the wintertime).

But during those busy times of year, specifically seeding during the spring time and harvest during the fall, we work. If the crops ready and the weather allows we are working. There is no overtime pay, there are no weekends off. It is go, go, go until the work is done.

We just finished up wheat harvest on the 22 of August. For us, wheat is half of our crop. My 73-year-old grandfather and 60-year-old uncle each worked 16 days of 12 or more hours during a span of 19 days. And of our four-man crew, those two worked the least. Fifteen to 16 hours is the norm for my father and I.

Seven a.m. to 10 or 11 at night, eat supper, shower, hopefully get to bed around 11:30, wake up at 6:30 the next morning and go do it all again.

There is nothing extraordinary about what we do at Haugen Farms. Other farmers do just as much. People of other occupations work just as hard if not harder some days. What is extraordinary about me is how lucky I am. I knew what I was going to do for the rest of my life well before I finished high school, and I have only grown more convinced that I made the right decision since then.

I must admit, I have trouble sympathizing with friends here at school who are still wrestling with what they want to do with their future. For some it is being unsatisfied with their major, for others it is being unsure what they want to do after graduation.

I am different. I chose my major based on something I was interested in and thought would be fun to learn about. I knew I would never use my degree. I came to a non-Agricultural college from a small town to play football and get away for a few years. Yes, big bad Jamestown is my wild adventure (sometimes too wild) away from home. Some people’s version of seeing the world is backpacking around Europe or taking a road trip across the United States. My version is going to college in a town about three hours from home with a population of about 15,500 people and a college campus or around 1,100 students.

Every time I make that trip to Jamestown, I become even more sure I made the right choice by choosing to farm. I have great friends in Jamestown, that is the one thing that kept me there after giving up football.

No offense guys, but I miss the farm more when I am in Jamestown than vice versa.

But just because I knew what I wanted to do from the start does not mean that I do not ever have bad days. That does not mean that there are not days on the farm that frustrate me. That does not mean that there are not any jobs or tasks that I dislike. Even someone who loves their job goes home irritated with it every now and again.

I love having cows, but I hate cleaning the barn. It has to be done during the summer when it is hot outside and bugs are all over the place. Moving the manure makes it stink. When someone who lives with cattle everyday says it stinks, it literally stinks. You have to shovel or pitch the straw and manure out of the corners of the barn. It is a pain in the butt. It’s hot, it’s sweaty, it’s stinky, it’s tiring and it’s no fun. But it has to be done because I love having cows, and the cows need a nice, clean barn to have their calves in next spring.

I enjoy spraying. I see a lot of beautiful landscapes getting to be over every inch of our farm two or three times each year. I enjoy the alone time in the cab, but I hate having to clean out the water tank at the end of the year. I am the youngest and smallest guy on our crew (thanks to my 6’1” dad marrying my 5’2” mom), so I have to crawl through the small hole on top of the tank, lower myself in without falling, then clean the tank.

If it is 60 degrees outside, it is 80 degrees in that tank, even if it is sitting in the shade. Add in the water and you can about imagine how stuff it is in there. But it has to be done.

First, I power wash the walls. I do not know if any of you have ever used a power washer inside of a confined space, but let’s just say you get splashed a little, after all, it is called a power washer for a reason. Then I vacuum up whatever debris is left. At the end I climb out all wet, probably cut my arms and/or hips along the way, and hope I gain twenty pounds by next summer so I never have to do it again.

I hate breaking stuff. When the weather is nice, but the combine (or any other implement) has to stop because it is broken is about the worst thing that can possibly happen on a farm.

Sometimes things just break, they wear out and it is nobody’s fault. However, when it is your fault, that is a terrible feeling. Maybe it was because you weren’t paying attention, your mental focus lagged for a minute. Or maybe it was a simple error, you misjudged how wet that spot was or how far away from the fence you were. No matter what, when you were at the helm and something breaks, you feel awful. You just want to get it fixed as soon as soon as you can (and without telling Dad, if possible).

The reverse side of this coin is when you finally get the right parts and get it put back together and working, you feel like you accomplished something fixing it. But you probably wasted half a day or maybe more doing that fixing. The days I break something are the days that I get home still mad at myself. It can be hard not to take your work home with you when you treat work as your life. But I know the machine will always get fixed, and we will still get the job done as soon as we are able to.

The point is, even though I love what I do overall, there are things that I have to do that I hate doing. There are days when I screw something up and it ruins my day. I think that same is true about every career. If you let one bad day at a job or even a tough week of classes change your mind, you will never be able to stick to a career path.

That does not mean exploring some different career choices is wrong. When you are young and unattached and it cost little to live, trying new and exciting possibilities is a great idea. I sometimes wish I would have explored some more before completely dedicating my professional career to the farm. I have day dreamed about going to Texas for a year after completing my history degree to work at the Fort Worth Stockyards and the Texas Cowboy Hall of Fame. I would take off with just what I could fit in my pickup, move into a cheap apartment, and really have some adventure for a year, living four states away.

I am even different than most farmers. Many of them did their exploring as well, and not just in the form of day dreams. For instance, my dad applied for a half dozen teaching jobs in Texas after graduating college in 1987. Instead he ended up taking a teaching position just 17 miles from the farm, and sure enough after five years he was done teaching and farming full-time. Maybe that is why part of me still dreams about going to Texas. Either way, my parents explored some options. He found his way back to what he loved doing. He actually really enjoyed teaching, too, but he could not stay away from the farm.

Someday, somewhere, somehow, within that exploration, we all find where we are meant to be and what we are meant to do. We all come across it in a different way, but sure enough we all come across the path we are meant to be on. And even though you are where you are meant to be, some days you will hate it. But most days you will not hate it, most days you will love it.

Follow me on Twitter @AHaugen86 to see what shenanigans we’re up to at #HaugenFarms and maybe laugh along with some farmer humor.