TOWN OF CLARNO - It's 5:30 a.m., and the rooster's cock-a-doodle-doo has told Stephanie Wyss loud and clear that it's time to milk the cows. The evening sunset tells her it's time to do it again. This takes place every day.
In between, there are countless chores and the ongoing baling and stacking of hay.
This is what Stephanie Wyss has to do. And she loves it, because it's what Stephanie Wyss wants to do.
But that wasn't always the case.
"I felt an obligation and that made me a bit uneasy," said Wyss, 23, who now represents the sixth generation to run her family's sprawling 297-acre dairy farm in Clarno Township, south of Monroe. "But my parents (Randy and Pam) sat me down before I went to college and said, "You know, you don't have to do this. You can do what you want.' That made me feel better. I thought, "Wow, I can really do what I want?'"
Meanwhile, despite saying what he knew was best for Stephanie, Randy was in a pickle. You see, he has three daughters, and oldest daughter Theresa had already passed on the idea and had become a school teacher. And youngest daughter Molly was too young.
Randy had watched his father, Dan, work himself nearly to death all the way to age 72. Randy, age 60, has been a partner in the farm for 34 years and owner for 22 years. He said some of the physical demands have become a challenge as he's been battling health problems and simply tiring out.
"I'm even having trouble chasing some of the darn animals," he said.
So what was to become of the family farm a Wyss had so proudly owned and operated for so long?
"I always worried what would happen - I didn't know if one of the girls would marry a guy who was interested in taking over, or if I'd just have to shut it down," Randy said.
But something was happening to Stephanie Wyss her freshmen year at the University of Wisconsin Platteville. Her newfound freedom didn't feel right. She realized she was a prisoner to what she had always loved - her farm.
"I didn't like being in buildings all day and I really missed the cows," said Stephanie, who knew all 65 by name and began milking them when she was 12. "I realized, "This is what I want to do.' It took not feeling any pressure for it to sink in."
So she switched her major from agricultural education to animal science with an emphasis in dairy, and took business courses. She had a plan.
"When I told other students what I was doing, they gave me a puzzled look," Stephanie said. "They'd say, "Why are you in school then, if you're going back home to farm? And why are you taking business courses?' Some people don't realize a farm is a business. With everything I was learning, I was thinking about how I'd apply it to the farm."
The Wyss' primary revenue is the sale of milk exclusively to Maple Leaf Cheese. Additionally, the farm also yields oats, alfalfa and corn, for feed, and excess crops are sold. Occasionally they sell bull calves, too.
Taking over the farm would have to wait a bit for Stephanie - "My parents weren't letting me come home without a degree," she said - and most every school-year weekend and every summer she was rolling up her sleeves, more than ever before, and helping Dad.
"The more she did it, the more I realized "I think this is for real,'" Randy said. "She's proven she's ready and now we're in the transition. She's involved in all decisions."
And their skills have complemented one another.
"Recently, I was driving the tractor and it broke down. Well, I don't know how to fix a tractor," Stephanie said. "But there was Dad to show me how, so now I know."
As for what Stephanie brings to the table, it's the future - in more ways than one.
"She has so much education for this - much more than I ever did," Randy said. "She has veterinarian skills, she understands the advances in feeding, she understands reproduction. She'll improve the herd."
At the same time, Stephanie wants to protect the old-world feel of the farm.
"You can make progress, but I still have it look the same, which is what I want," she said. "I don't ever want to lose our Pennsylvania Dutch-style barn. And I'll always want the cows to have their own stalls."
Ah yes, those cows. They, too, are family to Stephanie.
"I have a name for all of them," she said. "One is named Jazz, and I just named her calf Jitterburg. My younger sister protested. She said, "Cows can't dance.' But you need to name them with the same first letter of the mom so you can keep track."
Randy marvels at Stephanie's relationship with the cows.
"She can name them by just looking at them," he said. "I have to look them up."
The task will become even mightier, as Stephanie said she hopes to expand the herd to 100 strong. More barns are also in the plans, as well as her eventual purchase of the farm. For now, she lives in a rental house on the property so she can be close to the work.
With 14-hour days in the muck, is Stephanie finding time for a social life. Isn't that important to a 23-year-old?
"I have to go to bed early, but I do like to go out to dinner with friends and get away from the farm," she said. "And I'll make it a point to dress up in some nicer clothes. I have them, so I might as well wear them. They shouldn't just sit there."
Randy is relieved that Stephanie can clean up nicely when she wants.
"Everyone always said she was my boy," he said, "but she can be a lady."
Speaking of relief, enter Theresa, 25, the oldest sister.
"We knew early that she wasn't interested (in the farm)," Randy said. "She made that clear."
What was Theresa's reaction when Stephanie stepped up?
"Go for it! It's all yours," Theresa said with a laugh. "I felt kind of bad, but I had fallen in love with art in middle school and wanted to become an art teacher."
Today she is just that, living in Monroe and teaching in Juda.
And she recently showed her tribute to both the farm and her sister's efforts by presenting Stephanie with a silhouette painting of the farm as a house-warming gift.
"I love the animals, but there's a big difference between painting pictures of them and cleaning up after them," she said.
As for 21-year-old Molly, the youngest, the jury is still out. She said she loves the farm and remembers being in a crib in the barn watching her grandpa work.
Now in college, she currently helps out as a part-time farmhand, but she'll have to get used to having a new boss.
"She does get a bit bossy," a laughing Molly said of Stephanie. "But I guess she does so for the right reasons. I guess."
Toughness is now part of the territory for the new head honcho.
"I'm proving that farming is not just for boys," Stephanie said. "It's physically demanding and it is a lot of responsibility, but I'm up for it."
But isn't there some pressure? There's the workload, the family heritage, the curiosity of all the other farmers. Will this 23-year-old woman, who everyone knows as Randy's "boy" in the form of a little girl, be able to pull it off?
"Yeah, I do feel a little pressure," she said, "but it's a good pressure. Mostly, I'm honored and humbled."
In between, there are countless chores and the ongoing baling and stacking of hay.
This is what Stephanie Wyss has to do. And she loves it, because it's what Stephanie Wyss wants to do.
But that wasn't always the case.
"I felt an obligation and that made me a bit uneasy," said Wyss, 23, who now represents the sixth generation to run her family's sprawling 297-acre dairy farm in Clarno Township, south of Monroe. "But my parents (Randy and Pam) sat me down before I went to college and said, "You know, you don't have to do this. You can do what you want.' That made me feel better. I thought, "Wow, I can really do what I want?'"
Meanwhile, despite saying what he knew was best for Stephanie, Randy was in a pickle. You see, he has three daughters, and oldest daughter Theresa had already passed on the idea and had become a school teacher. And youngest daughter Molly was too young.
Randy had watched his father, Dan, work himself nearly to death all the way to age 72. Randy, age 60, has been a partner in the farm for 34 years and owner for 22 years. He said some of the physical demands have become a challenge as he's been battling health problems and simply tiring out.
"I'm even having trouble chasing some of the darn animals," he said.
So what was to become of the family farm a Wyss had so proudly owned and operated for so long?
"I always worried what would happen - I didn't know if one of the girls would marry a guy who was interested in taking over, or if I'd just have to shut it down," Randy said.
But something was happening to Stephanie Wyss her freshmen year at the University of Wisconsin Platteville. Her newfound freedom didn't feel right. She realized she was a prisoner to what she had always loved - her farm.
"I didn't like being in buildings all day and I really missed the cows," said Stephanie, who knew all 65 by name and began milking them when she was 12. "I realized, "This is what I want to do.' It took not feeling any pressure for it to sink in."
So she switched her major from agricultural education to animal science with an emphasis in dairy, and took business courses. She had a plan.
"When I told other students what I was doing, they gave me a puzzled look," Stephanie said. "They'd say, "Why are you in school then, if you're going back home to farm? And why are you taking business courses?' Some people don't realize a farm is a business. With everything I was learning, I was thinking about how I'd apply it to the farm."
The Wyss' primary revenue is the sale of milk exclusively to Maple Leaf Cheese. Additionally, the farm also yields oats, alfalfa and corn, for feed, and excess crops are sold. Occasionally they sell bull calves, too.
Taking over the farm would have to wait a bit for Stephanie - "My parents weren't letting me come home without a degree," she said - and most every school-year weekend and every summer she was rolling up her sleeves, more than ever before, and helping Dad.
"The more she did it, the more I realized "I think this is for real,'" Randy said. "She's proven she's ready and now we're in the transition. She's involved in all decisions."
And their skills have complemented one another.
"Recently, I was driving the tractor and it broke down. Well, I don't know how to fix a tractor," Stephanie said. "But there was Dad to show me how, so now I know."
As for what Stephanie brings to the table, it's the future - in more ways than one.
"She has so much education for this - much more than I ever did," Randy said. "She has veterinarian skills, she understands the advances in feeding, she understands reproduction. She'll improve the herd."
At the same time, Stephanie wants to protect the old-world feel of the farm.
"You can make progress, but I still have it look the same, which is what I want," she said. "I don't ever want to lose our Pennsylvania Dutch-style barn. And I'll always want the cows to have their own stalls."
Ah yes, those cows. They, too, are family to Stephanie.
"I have a name for all of them," she said. "One is named Jazz, and I just named her calf Jitterburg. My younger sister protested. She said, "Cows can't dance.' But you need to name them with the same first letter of the mom so you can keep track."
Randy marvels at Stephanie's relationship with the cows.
"She can name them by just looking at them," he said. "I have to look them up."
The task will become even mightier, as Stephanie said she hopes to expand the herd to 100 strong. More barns are also in the plans, as well as her eventual purchase of the farm. For now, she lives in a rental house on the property so she can be close to the work.
With 14-hour days in the muck, is Stephanie finding time for a social life. Isn't that important to a 23-year-old?
"I have to go to bed early, but I do like to go out to dinner with friends and get away from the farm," she said. "And I'll make it a point to dress up in some nicer clothes. I have them, so I might as well wear them. They shouldn't just sit there."
Randy is relieved that Stephanie can clean up nicely when she wants.
"Everyone always said she was my boy," he said, "but she can be a lady."
Speaking of relief, enter Theresa, 25, the oldest sister.
"We knew early that she wasn't interested (in the farm)," Randy said. "She made that clear."
What was Theresa's reaction when Stephanie stepped up?
"Go for it! It's all yours," Theresa said with a laugh. "I felt kind of bad, but I had fallen in love with art in middle school and wanted to become an art teacher."
Today she is just that, living in Monroe and teaching in Juda.
And she recently showed her tribute to both the farm and her sister's efforts by presenting Stephanie with a silhouette painting of the farm as a house-warming gift.
"I love the animals, but there's a big difference between painting pictures of them and cleaning up after them," she said.
As for 21-year-old Molly, the youngest, the jury is still out. She said she loves the farm and remembers being in a crib in the barn watching her grandpa work.
Now in college, she currently helps out as a part-time farmhand, but she'll have to get used to having a new boss.
"She does get a bit bossy," a laughing Molly said of Stephanie. "But I guess she does so for the right reasons. I guess."
Toughness is now part of the territory for the new head honcho.
"I'm proving that farming is not just for boys," Stephanie said. "It's physically demanding and it is a lot of responsibility, but I'm up for it."
But isn't there some pressure? There's the workload, the family heritage, the curiosity of all the other farmers. Will this 23-year-old woman, who everyone knows as Randy's "boy" in the form of a little girl, be able to pull it off?
"Yeah, I do feel a little pressure," she said, "but it's a good pressure. Mostly, I'm honored and humbled."