Plans change

The sun in shining. The thermometer says it's 70 ° outside. It's a beautiful day.

We should be doing field work or hauling the last of the manure out. But we're not.

Instead, we're dealing with an ag bag full of corn silage that an assortment of wild critters used for their winter smorgasbord.

Glen found the holes last week after the mountains of snow between the bags finally melted. There are so many holes in the bag it could pass as a chub of Swiss cheese.

Our plan, initially, was to transfer the corn silage from the ag bag to our upright silo and treat it with acid. But the corn silage wouldn't go through the blower.

So, instead, the guys patched up as many of the holes as they could and then packed dirt around the bag. Glen is going out now to IV the damaged spots of the bag with propionic acid in an effort to minimize spoilage.

We're also going to seal up the bag of silage we were feeding and start feeding out of this one so that we can use it up before summer gets here.

This was not how we planned to spend our Monday, but farming wouldn't be farming if plans didn't change on a regular basis.

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Plans change in life, too.

The last I'd heard, my cousin Scott's leukemia was in remission and they were making plans for a bone marrow transplant.

Then I got a call last night that Scott had gone into cardiac arrest. He passed away early this morning. He was 37.

Now, instead of talking about plans for his recovery, our family is talking about plans for celebrating Scott's life.