I had the pleasure of living on a farm, while freelancing, where my girlfriend was a cheesemaker. The farm was amazing: hundreds of well cared-for cows, sheep,

I had the pleasure of living on a farm, while freelancing, where my girlfriend was a cheesemaker. The farm was amazing: hundreds of well cared-for cows, sheep, and goats. An education program that brought kids around. Rolling hills and a vegetable garden we could not harvest fast enough. A stream we could swim in just outside the backyard. Working there was hell. Twelve hour days, low pay, no benefits, always covered in shit, piss, blood and every other excrement imaginable. The farm staff turned over every two years, as young people chased the romance of farm work and then spun off, back to a job and a city. A few of the workers I keep tabs on actually went off to start their own farms. But each of them has a partner with a real job and steady income.