Weathered work boots crackle on icy crushed gravel as Fran Miron and his son Andrew trudge up to their newest pole barn. A group of masons on the far end pours a section of new concrete flooring while Fran’s brother, John, a retired electrician, oversees the process.
It’s early in an unseasonably cold November, and the Mirons are converting what was a “bedded pack” barn into a more advanced “free-stall” dairy dorm. As Fran explains the functional differences between the two (you’re going to have to look it up), Andrew notices something amiss.
“They definitely hit that tube down there,” Andrew declares as he passes through the barn’s shadow and gets a clearer view of the workers on the other end.
“He what?” Fran says.