THE PEOPLE WHO PUT THEIR HAND UP

The list

The kids were asleep by eight, and the kitchen table was theirs.

They'd both been up since four, milking on someone else's farm. He drove the feed truck on Saturdays, so he knew every farm gate in the district. She pulled an envelope out of the drawer and turned it over.

"Right. Every farmer we know who might be thinking about what's next."

He started with the farms on his feed run. She added the ones she'd heard about at netball, and the farmer she'd heard was keen to lease out his land. He rang the stock agent, who laughed and gave him a few more. By ten o'clock the envelope was full and they'd moved on to the back of the power bill.

"What are we actually after?" he asked.

She thought about it. "A farm we can grow into. And a district full of families like ours in ten years." Then she kept going. The next generation back. The school full. The footy and netball clubs fielding every grade. The district's own milk in the shop fridge.

He was grinning. "That's a big list for a power bill."

"Then we'd better start knocking."

She stood the envelope against the kettle for morning.

Before bed she made a flier on her phone: a photo of the two of them in the dairy, the herds they'd milked, the calves they'd reared, and a number to ring. He printed it at the library the next morning, and by lunch he'd pinned it up at the hardware store and the stock agent.

The first name on the envelope was a farmer a few roads over. They planned to go round that weekend.

Unless you take the step, these opportunities don't arrive.

This is an illustration. The district and its people are made up.

You Can Own a Farm is free at cultivatefarms.com/resources.