For Lymon himself on his one-family farm, on any given day he's part veterinarian and market researcher, maybe mechanic and plumber and accountant the next day. All the milking equipment needs to be kept in perfect order, and the tractor and front end loaders sure better be running if the fields are to be tended and the cows fed. At the end of a long day as he adds up columns of figures about milk prices and feed prices and bills and everything else, he needs to pray that there's a little bit left over from what he's paid out to get by with and keep the place afloat. Many nights have seen Lymon Wilson poring over those columns, hoping the price he can get for his milk keeps up with what it costs to produce it. Some stockbrokers jump from rooftops when their investments drop.
Bond traders gnash their teeth and tear tiny holes in their expensive suits.
He gets up out of his bed in the cold dawn, pulls on those black rubber boots, and milks those cows. He has no regrets, and no apologies, for a life chosen and a life lived. I started when I was 16 years old on my own with 13 cows that I bought, and I've been going ever since. I've raised a family here, and I've been blessed. I wouldn't think I'd stop now.