It was a miniature white cardboard cakebox, about 4 inches tall, with red and green excelsior sticking out the seams. A delayed, misaddressed, Christmas gift?
“No”, I thought, I’ve heard from everyone, and there’s not a birthday in sight. There’s no delivery coming from Overstock or Amazon, and our wedding anniversary is a full month away.
It had no fragrance and very little weight to it. It didn’t rattle. I didn’t recognize the sender.
My perception of the object changed. Something had come through the mail that hadn’t been ordered or anticipated, and suddenly I didn’t want to tear it open (as I normally would, because I like presents).
I gingerly cut through the top of the box with long scissors, avoiding the taped seams; I didn’t want to open it in a way that was expected. It’s a different world now, isn’t it?
I poked at the paper stuffing with the scissor tips and hit something metallic and dull sounding.
Wanting to avoid direct contact with whatever was inside, I upturned it onto the counter.
It was a bell. A small green cowbell with a website address imprinted on the side: www.ceda-nv.org. Curiouser, and curiouser.
I suspected that it was a creative advertising ploy for dry-cow treatment or pipeline replacement parts. Clearly, the recipient was expected to have Internet access, a penchant for mystery, or optimism for a prize.
As it turned out, the bell is a project of the Churchill County Economic Development Authority (Nevada), and is a device to inform and attract entrepreneurial cheesemakers to relocate to the area.
The county is offering access to 24 million pounds of milk from 21 farms to a new cheese processor, with the goal of both strengthening employment in their community and creating stability for the existing farmland base.
A project worthy of note.
But what has Nevada got that a middle-aged Vermont farmer/cheesemaker could possibly covet?
No sub-zero weather for a start, and little annual snowfall.
There’s no personal income or inheritance tax - no corporate income, estate or gift taxes, low property taxes - and a county willing to get behind any comers with all the help they can muster.
I hope they can attract someone suitable through this “net” broadcast wide enough to catch my humble attention.
Currently, I’m indisposed and unable to take advantage of the opportunity - but the enticement of operating in an environment that enthusiastically supports our industry makes me giddy. I often feel that dairy farmers are paid back in lip service rather than respect, for all that we offer the community at large.
No matter the state where we reside, farmers are in a real mess. Good luck to the dairymen and women of Churchill County, Nevada.
And good luck to all who look to make their living from agriculture.
