I have just spent the last seven days scanning my horizon for dark clouds. That is just one of the symptoms of my HTTS. HTTS comes on me soon after 1 July every year. Other symptoms are anxiety, preoccupation and the constant reference to my iPad and weather forecasts.

Yes, you guessed it – its Hay Time Tension Syndrome. This year’s dark clouds arrived so often that in the end I had to bite the bullet and turn my lovely hay into plastic wrapped haylage. I am not a fan of plastic and I would prefer to be handling hay next winter, but the option to wrap means that the duration of my HTTS is shorter, the symptoms less severe and my animals will have good food next winter. Having that option greatly enhances our resilience.

The previous week also bought a dark cloud. An unexpected “contiguous herd” TB test turned up my first TB reactor for over 35 years. It came as a complete shock and caused me some flash backs to similar events from my distant past.

Brucellosis wake-up call

Like many of today’s young farmers, I, as a twenty-year-old, dreamt of having a 100-cow dairy herd. My parents had put together a small nucleus of good cows and my plan was to build the parlour, cubicles and self-feed silos and gradually build the herd up from replacements.

After a few years building, I got my first set back. Some of the best cows and heifers failed the brucellosis test and were lost. At 21, I had to summon up the personal resilience to continue. The presence of parents who had “seen it all before” was crucial. With that support, I picked up my morale, tightened my herd health vigilance and carried on.

The next test went clear and the clouds seemed to have passed. Then, the following year another seven reactors had to go. This seriously tested my resolve to become a 100-cow farmer. Did I have the personal resilience to commit my life to a future that seemed to offer a perpetual waltz of stepping forward and back?

My answer was “maybe not”. Scanning my horizon, I was lucky to spot an advertisement for an opportunity to train as a rural science teacher. Thus, at the age of 24, I commenced a three-year weekly drive to Cork that eventually led to a rewarding and satisfying other life as a teacher. Just like hay making, life plans can get overturned by dark clouds, showers and storms that come along. Having options, and keeping them active and open, is what resilience is all about.

Planning for dark clouds

Resilience is now a buzz word in all planning exercises and farmers need to plan plenty of resilience into their farm and their farming life. The onset of future dark clouds is inevitable. Just when, where and how they will appear can rarely be predicted. However, time spent scanning your horizon is time very well spent.

Building “what if” scenarios into your farm plans is important. Some may feel it unwise to meet trouble half way or may choose to pretend their horizon will always be sunny, and it may well keep fine for them – for a while. However, history teaches us otherwise.

The key indicator of success by a farm family is not necessarily the achieving of production targets. Rather it is maintaining and strengthening of the family’s hold on the farm for following generations. Family farms have been lost, and lives scarred, through chasing production targets while ignoring the “what if” considerations and plans that can maximise farm and personal resilience.

Given the scale of uncertain clouds on the horizon, I feel farmers should be cautious about the national rush to increase production. Instead, they should make sure that when the next storm comes, they and their family farm will be safe.

Back in 1974, I was very glad that I had a good Leaving Cert to fall back on. And last week I was very glad that I had the plastic option. Having many such options to hand is what resilience is all about.