In the show goat industry, this title would belong to me. There isn’t a close second. Without bragging, this title is mine.
I had some windshield time today. No XM radio, so this left me to the thoughts in my head. Then, I got home and I started to go through 2016 income/expense info for taxes. (trying to be early for a change). Then, I started going through breeding records for the past several years. I guess you could say that I started taking a survey of Kelln Livestock…again, but in a different form.
It was with nostalgia as I was looking over show results of wethers raised, purchased, sold, etc. Lots of premium sales, lots of class winners, lots of grands and reserve grands at district, state and national shows. I would have been well advised to have hired somebody to make me advertise over the years, but I didn’t. I’m not saying that it is the best list, but there are very, very, very few that have a better list. Did I have help? Sure. Everybody does. But, it is hard to argue the consistency of show to show, judge to judge, year after year after year. All while dealing with fewer and fewer numbers.
I have had the honor to help numerous families. Some hit every goal. While others hit some of their goals. Others supassed their goals. While a few, just kept adding goals as they kept winning. Some won more than they should have. Some didn’t win enough.
I look at my own kids’ successes. Some think that they should have won more. They’ve won more than most. And Tammy and I are proud of the kids that we have raised in this program. It is really hard to argue with the results. Some think that we should have kept the best wethers for our own kids. We haven’t, but it is hard to argue that this was a mistake. We’ve had some really good families have success with these goats. My mistake is that I did not have enough of these types of wethers, year in and year out. It isn’t easy raising wethers that can win district shows, class winners, premium sale wethers and goats that will be in the hunt at OYE. Yet, we have consistently done it, year in and year out. All while selling 10-25 wethers per year. Bragging–no, not when you can back it up. Compare our few to others that sell hundreds and hundreds.
As I reflect back on all this, I have mostly happy memories. I have thoroughly enjoyed working with the kids. And dude, we have dealt with some great kids. I love good livestock–regardless of species. The Dragon Lady will tell you that it is an addiction–the love of looking at good livestock. We have developed a vast array of friends and contacts. Some of the breeders in this industry have been unbelievable–not only in business dealings but as friends. And some have done things for my kids that are immeasurable. I can only hope that Tammy and I have done the same for others. If not, this has been a waste of time and money. It hasn’t.
While looking at my expenses for the year (depressing), I decided to dig into a seperate pile of envelopes. I know that I can be an A-hole but I have been known to be sentimental. I have a pile of every Thank You card ever written to us. Why? They motivate me way more than an EFFING $ ever will. Most are from the kids, some the parents, and a few from grandparents. Some have notes from the kid, the parents and the grandparents all written on the same card.
I need to upgrade phones, but I don’t want to lose some of these text messages. There are some text messages that I don’t want to copy as my mental midget mind doesn’t want to degrade the original form in which it was sent. I know, dumb. This is part of the same rationale that I don’t like to be in pictures. I don’t need a picture of the moment. I already have it captured in my mind, and it can’t be improved upon. Even if it is photo-shopped. It won’t be better.
All good. But, as I am an A Hole, it becomes apparent that some don’t write thank yous. I put this back on the parents. Which in turn, gets me to thinking! Oh crap! This could be dangerous. Dang neart every problem I have with my journey down the past year or two involve adults. There is a bunch of Shake My Head, kick rocks, cuss a little then a lot and wonder What In The Hell goes through some people’s minds?
On second thought, I’m not the dumbest. The only thing that I did that was dumb was not charge for the knowledge, effort, skill, coaching and babysitting. Tammy told
me that I was dumb. She was right. Go ahead and just give me that trophy. I knew that I was dealing with some dumb ass parents.
And speaking of dumb—it was 87 degreess F in this part of paradise on November 16. Too warm, too windy. This winter doesn’t look good.