"It's A Way of Life"

For Laura Dutile farming isn’t a job, it’s a way of life. Laura was born into agriculture, although for a while she tried life somewhere else. Perhaps it was inevitable, Laura’s connection to farming reaches back through generations and is deeply rooted on a particular piece of New Hampshire farmland that her great-grandmother bought in 1942. After her husband died in 1953, she continued farming it until her own death in 2000. Much of what are now fields had once been scrubland, cleared largely by Laura’s great-grandmother with help from Laura’s father and his siblings—a history that matters deeply to her.

Laura puts it simply. “Yes, the land is rocky and hilly. But it’s ours. And I don’t take that legacy lightly.”

Today Laura farms in partnership with her parents and like members of many other farming families she also works an off-farm job—the job that, she jokes, “supports my farming habit.” For farms like theirs, changes in land values, taxation and public policy can influence whether keeping land in agriculture remains viable. Her agricultural life encompasses pigs, a vineyard, gardens, haying, equipment repairs and the seemingly endless maintenance that comes with an old farm.

Laura also holds a degree in agricultural biosecurity and food defense from Penn State.

“My paying job has me reading and interpreting rules and regulations to the point that I can read an RSA and give a pretty good synopsis quickly.”

She puts that knowledge to use helping other farmers and is concerned about disease prevention and what can happen when people enter agriculture without understanding the regulations designed to protect animals and farms.

Agriculture isn’t merely the work happening today. It is what her great-grandmother built, what her family has carried forward, what Laura is tending now—and what she is determined will still be there for another generation.

Her Story

I asked Laura to walk me through a typical day during her busiest season.

“There’s a slow season?”

"Farrowing season, that’s when I’m wildly nervous about the moms, making sure the babies are warm and dry, making sure everyone has water and food and that no one has found their way into trouble and socializing them so that when they leave they are easy to manage for their new families.”

Being a woman, Laura points out with humor, occasionally comes with practical advantages.

“My hands are smaller so they fit in tighter places to move bolts or put things back together. Also I don’t have to worry about my rain pants or boots being snitched because they don’t fit anyone else. (this is how you know I’m not an only child )”

But her humor doesn't obscure the harder side of farming.

“There's an amount of ugly involved. There’s nothing cute or social media friendly about some of the pieces of farming. Animal losses hurt, equipment breakdowns can ruin a day, and general lack of hours to get it all done. I don’t think most people realize that.”

"In 2021 my absolutely perfect boar died. We still don’t know why. I had gone out to Ohio to get him in 2019 and he was exactly what I wanted. The breeder I got him from had left the business so I couldn’t get the same genetics. I also wasn’t making the kind of money that let me pony up for a replacement ready to go boar. And I needed piglets to make the business functional. That was hard. I have some of his granddaughters though.”

Asked what keeps her going when the work gets really hard, Laura has another question.

“There’s an option to quit? ... The infrastructure and improvements and management I do now will only better the farm for when we inherit.”

Laura doesn't keep her knowledge to herself.

“I’ve run into a number of people who have gotten into farming without knowing that there are rules about importing animals or what you can feed them. And so very, very many people don’t know that you can’t feed post-consumer food to pigs without a license. It’s a great way to bring in disease that we do NOT want here.”

Passing on her knowledge also happens very close to home.

“My family was a matriarchy until I was 37 so I look at my niece (she’s 4) as my favorite farm helper. When she comes over we go on adventures on the tractors, out exploring the fields, visiting the pigs, and, of course, making sure everyone has food and water. She also wants to help and prove that she’s just as strong as her big brothers so she will lug buckets and never admit that they’re getting heavy (except when they do).”

If a young woman came to her today wanting to enter agriculture, Laura's advice is succinct.

“Buckle up. Also: when are you free to come hang out and learn what we do?”

For all its demands, agriculture has given Laura quite a lot in return.

“An awareness of heat exhaustion. Knowledge that it’s a privilege to live and work where I do. The value of good boots and work pants with pockets that hold my phone. Big muscles. Mechanical skills. Sassy pants. Confidence. Gratitude for this land, my privilege, and my life.”

The consequences are easy to picture.

"A couple years ago there were proposed changes to the current use tax formula that would have made it more profitable for us to stop farming altogether. If NH actually values open space they should remember that and stop using wild guesses for land values.

My farm property has some gorgeous open fields with lovely sunsets. My worst nightmare is to see houses filling up those fields.”

So when she is asked what she hopes to leave behind, Laura's answer is strikingly uncomplicated.

“A farm. Ideally one that’s profitable and with solid buildings, but a farm at all is something.”