The Wisoncsin Synod would never allow this!

I particularly like that he is described as a 99-year old dairy farmer. Note that it did not say “retired” dairy farmer.

When Grandma Fish died, they routed the funeral procession to the cemetary past the farm she and her husband farmed for a half century. It was a beautiful, moving moment to see the long line of cars passing the old farmstead.

Dairy farmers aren’t the retiring type. A friend of the family brags that, until he recently brought in a hired man, he hadn’t missed a milking since World War Two. He is over eighty now. A couple of years ago he slipped while climbing into the cab of his Deere - the first step on the larger models can be over two feet off the ground. He broke bones and jammed up his jaw on the step as he went down. Most people shook their heads and figured that was the end of the farm. And most likely Bill, since there was no way he could keep going on without the farm work.

When he came home from the hospital, he hauled his broken body out to the farm shop and welded a lower step beneath the factory step. He doesn’t slip now.

I’m reading Gene Logsdon’s “All Flesh is Grass” and was struck by his beautiful statement that he hoped that he would one day keel over while moving his cattle - no decaying in a nursing home for him.

As for me, when the day comes, I hope my son will dig a hole for me on the hill above the barn. A simple service and then a pig roast for the attendees.