I can't see but little sections of the sky between these tall buildings.
The water is hemmed in by cement walls instead of gently sloping hills of clover and cat tails.
The folks drink coffee, but not like we make it back on the farm.
There, a percolating coffee maker does the trick, while it seems unless it's a venti, double foam, quadruple espresso shot, with extra foam on the latte - it's just not worth drinking down in the big city.
I drove to Milwaukee for a business meeting. We want to change the farm into something that might become more self-sustaining for the family now, and for generations to come.
I'm here to meet with some business leaders at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and Finance people with Northwestern Mutual and then some big-city attorneys to make sure we get off on the right start.
Our vision is to create our own dairy on the farm to use the milk from our cows to bottle milk and other dairy products. We want to generate some of our own fuel and be more responsible citizens with the waste created by all the livestock and other agricultural waste.
It's a big vision - one I likely won't be able to see to completion, but hopefully Scotty and Mark and their children will watch blossom into something that keeps the family going and creates jobs for our corner of Wisconsin.
I can't get back home soon enough. Last night, I went to dinner and enjoyed a steak dinner with a couple of Milwaukee's famous products. It was a great time until the bill arrived, and I owed $65 plus tip.
The cafe back home makes a mean steak, and I usually get change back from my $20.
I drove into the city without incident, parking in the narrow underground garage without damaging my truck or the vehicles on either side. From now until I leave I plan to walk.
It's an interesting place - I see people walking toward me, so I smile and say, "Hello" or "Hi." They don't look up - mostly because they are looking at some shiny thing in their hands or just talk to themselves while walking into traffic.
The people are nice, but seem to have this need to tell a person they barely know about every last thing going on in their life. And that's the people I've just met. I guess back home we tend to keep things closer to the vest.
Heck, my own mom went to the hospital one time and I didn't hear about it until she was back home for three days!
At this point, I don't know how long I'm going to be here, or how many trips it is going to take - I feel like I'm caught in one of those episodes of Andy Griffith where he and Barney go up to Raleigh for the big County Sheriff's convention. Shazam!
Catch up on the Life On the Farm series here.
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