Six women gathered for their weekly confab, and as they spread out their delicious breakfast treats they had all contributed for the brunch buffet, I listened as each talked about the week and how things were going with their families.

The coffee was being poured and someone asked for cream. The hostess promptly pulled out a pint of half-and-half and handed it over the counter. When the cream was poured into the coffee, several “floaties” came to the top and experience told everyone the cream had gone bad.

The hostess was not embarrassed, but curious, as she inquired about the expiration date on the carton. The date was exactly 14 days out from that day. That carton still had two weeks before it was to expire. So why the floaties?

As the only farmer in the group, I kept quiet and waited to hear their explanations of why the cream would have gone bad before the expiration date:

“Did you shake it up good? Maybe all you need to do is shake it up.”

“Are you sure that’s the right date?”

“Have you noticed other foods that are going bad before the expiration date?”

“I opened a gallon of milk the other day and it had lumps in it!”

And, the food horror stories ensued.

This kind of thing always infuriates me. Not because these consumers were unhappy with a product that is produced by hardworking members of our society, but that the end product was not as wholesome as the raw material.

This dairy crisis is weeding dairy producers out right and left. Dairymen have used up their equity, cash reserves, and any backup plans they had in order to continue their multigenerational businesses.

All this while making sure they are certified in the Farmers Assuring Responsible Management, keeping their facilities up to snuff for the state and federal milk inspectors, and heaven forbid they have one bad cell count or their SOPs aren’t up to date!

There are sleepless nights, depression running rampant, and suicide hotlines now being used by mature men wanting to escape the feeling of overwhelming failure and disapproval of family and community. The last thing a dairy producer needs is a processor that is taking clean, multi-tested raw milk and turning out an inferior, spoiled product.

As men and women wake up tomorrow morning to more debt than they can stomach, milk checks that won’t cover the feed bill, and an angry banker, I beg the processors: Use your quality control metrics and put a wholesome, delicious product in the coolers.

You have one job. Do it. They are counting on you; it’s as simple as that.

The views and opinions expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of Farm World. Readers with questions or comments for Melissa Hart may write to her in care of this publication.