Yeah! I Milked That.

As most of you know, I was tricked into marrying a man that I thought was going to be a dairy farmer and instead turned corporate.  My 20-year-old-something-wanna-be-farmer-self thought I would be collecting milk every day and making cheeses, yogurts, and ice creams all from our own cows.  Well, 20 some years and 3 small humans later, I had yet to milk a cow… that is until last week. 

As last month’s readers recall, we had quite the addition to our farm with a cattle delivery which included a very pregnant cow.  On March 12th a little calf named Butterscotch McFartFace (the 3 small humans named her, not me), came in the middle of the night without much fanfare.  The calf immediately latched onto her mother and was able to eat right away.  I watched in relief, as formula for calves is just as expensive as it is for human babies.  I also saw an opportunity to finally milk a cow like my 20-something-untricked-self had intended so long ago.  With a little coaching from my reluctant partner, I was able to milk the cow by hand and let me tell you it was not as ideal as I pictured it.  Rather than a sunny green farm field on a three-legged stool with a tin pale, it was a cold barn probably kneeling in poop with a mason jar.  I only milked a half a cup of milk before the cow no longer wanted me back there.  Honestly, I can hardly blame her.  Regardless, I finally did it!

Now, if you are wondering if I will continue a career in hand milking, the answer is a hard NO, but not for lack of wanting to.  Milking by hand took me about 15 minutes for that half a cup of milk and a kick in the leg from the cow.  Plus, my small humans and suit wearing partner think that consuming raw milk will not be part of their diet.  But between you and me, I put it in their smoothies and let the compliments roll in.