I Made A Mistake!
#farm #farming #farmlife #farmtok
There’s a saying in farming: “You don’t really learn until you mess something up.” Well, consider me educated.
Last week started off like any other spring morning on the farm—birds chirping, the scent of fresh soil in the air, and my never-ending to-do list waiting for me. I had seedlings to transplant, fence lines to check, and a batch of feed to mix for the pigs. But the real priority? Preparing a new field for corn. This was the first time I was doing it solo, and I was eager to prove myself.
I’d spent the night before studying soil compaction, fertilizer application rates, and GPS settings for the tractor. I was feeling confident. Maybe too confident.
By 9 a.m., I was in the tractor seat, humming along to the radio, with a tank full of fuel and the implement ready to go. The field had been tilled a few days prior, and all I needed to do was apply fertilizer before planting. I set the spreader rate, double-checked the numbers, and took off down the field.
Except—I forgot one crucial step. I hadn’t calibrated the spreader. Rookie mistake.
About two hours in, I noticed the field looked a little off. There were strange lines—some patches with dense fertilizer coverage, others nearly bare. My stomach dropped. I stopped the tractor, got out, and walked the rows. It was obvious: I’d been over-applying in some areas and under-applying in others.
Panic set in. Not only had I wasted expensive fertilizer, but I’d risked burning the soil in some spots and leaving others nutrient-deprived. The worst part? I knew better. I had rushed, skipped the test run, and let my ego get the best of me.
So, I did what any farmer with a bit of humility and a sense of humor would do—I filmed a short clip for #farmtok. “I made a mistake,” I said, panning over the patchy rows behind me. “A big one.” And to my surprise, the comments rolled in fast—not with criticism, but with encouragement and empathy. Turns out, I’m far from the only one who’s made a mess of a field.
One farmer said he once planted soybeans on a field meant for alfalfa and didn’t realize until they started sprouting. Another admitted to forgetting to open the seed hopper and driving half a field before noticing. The stories made me laugh and reminded me of something important: farming isn’t perfect. It’s trial, error, and a whole lot of humility.
The next morning, I returned to the field, recalibrated the spreader properly, and did my best to correct the mistakes. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better. I’ll be watching that field closely all season—partly to monitor the crop, and partly to remind myself that learning often comes at the cost of comfort.
Mistakes like this one are frustrating, sure. But they’re also how we grow—not just crops, but character. So if you’re out there farming, or just trying something new, don’t be afraid to mess up. Own it, learn from it, and keep moving forward.
Because the best farmers? They’ve all made a mistake or two.
