Milking A Cow



A “Moo”ving Experience



My internal alarm clanged inside my head and I jerked awake at 5:35 a.m., dog and husband still curled beside me, both snoring, and the sun not yet ready to clock in. I tried to remember why I wanted to be up so early. Realizing that I had a real alarm set, I reached over and shut it off so it wouldn’t awaken either dog or husband. I stumbled out of bed to brush my teeth and wash my face. “Oh yes. I remember now. I’m going to a friend’s to milk a cow.”


Most women my age are facing this time of life with the realization that there is so much out there to do and just too little time to do it. Some of my friends are going on cruises, others are taking road trips to Yellowstone or the Grand Tetons and still others are going back to school. Of course, the cool women are bungee jumping and sky diving. I wasn’t cool in high school and not only am I NOT cool now, but I’m downright cowardly. I can’t even go across the Royal Gorge bridge without getting on my hands and knees to crawl across, carefully avoiding any chance of peeking through the cracks between the bridge timbers to the tens of millions of feet below. Yes, it was me you might have heard screaming, “I have to get off of here!!!” at Six Flags Over Texas, while my 11 year old daughter tried to calm me – on the kiddie Ferris Wheel. Well, I know I heard about those hapless people stuck on the big wheel, just last week!!


Therefore, my adventures into the unknown involve less likelihood of flattened bodies, heights above that of a step stool, or jumping out of any mode of transportation unless the tires are on the asphalt and the vehicle is at a dead standstill. When a young friend kindly offered to let me share in a cool, breezy morning of communing with a cow, I jumped at the opportunity – figuratively speaking of course.


God gave me such a morning! What a gorgeous day. It was a bit humid, but the cool, Oklahoma wind made me take a deep breath, thrilled at being alive in God’s creation. I arrived at the farm home which is nestled among big oak trees, promptly at 6:18am, and met my two young instructors, Jillian and Josiah. I was ready to be taught.


The first thing I noticed was their Wellingtons. I glanced down at my white tennis shoes and wondered if perhaps I had been too optimistic in my ability to stay clean. As we headed to the barnyard, I realized I should have borrowed my husband’s pair of rubber boots, no matter how foolish I’d have looked. I have to add here that I am no stranger to the barnyard. I should have known better. In my past life, as stated in my previous post, sheep, horses, cows, hay and muck were an everyday part of my existence. I’ve slept since then. I do remember one time on our farm, when an affluent aunt and uncle on the former husband’s side, from Georgia, came to our beautiful 375 Tennessee acres to see what in the world we were doing. The aunt arrived in a dress and high heels and insisted on seeing the massive sheep barn. As we traipsed across the barnyard to the front of the barn, Auntie sniffed, wrinkled her nose, looked down at her shoes and said, “I don’t know how you do this. It’s so…………..dirty.” Yep. It is that!


So, I should have known better. But no crying over spilt milk –eh? Well, over white shoes with green cow manure decorating them. There was actually no spilt milk except for that which missed the bucket because I can’t aim very well. The two youngsters put me to shame but I was certainly thrilled that I could get a stream of the white stuff going strong and that I didn’t get stepped on or knocked over once. The cow was too busy munching her breakfast to care that some stranger was getting up close and personal with her. I did catch her looking at my white sneakers, however, and I swear she frowned at me with a “What were you thinking?” look.


Now, I have a two gallons of milk cooling down as I prepare to make another leap into the unknown in an attempt at making cheddar cheese. Yes, I realize that at 56 years of age, I live dangerously, but hey, you only live once!!


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The udder is sprayed with disinfectant



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Josiah displays true skill! Look at those streams! It’s a team effort with Jillian on the other side.



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Yours Truly with the telltale gray hair makes an attempt



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Heh look!! There’s milk in that thar bovine.



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This calf thought my fingers tasted like a milk bottle.



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The milk is strained twice and put into a jug. And now it’s ready to go in the frig for ice cold milk and cream. See? You CAN teach an old dog new tricks!!



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5 Responses to “
Milking A Cow

  1. Hawkeye says:

    “Butno crying over spilt milk –eh?”

    (:D) Good line.

  2. admin says:

    I thought so, Hawkeye! 🙂 Thanks. I’ve said, “Let’s ‘cut the cheese’ around here more than once too!

  3. Beth says:

    I am so impressed! A beautiful round of your very own cheese! I can’t wait to hear the rest of the story.

  4. Marcie says:

    How AWESOME!!! It would be worth getting up at 5:35 am to have fresh milk and cheese! I am so happy to hear of your adventure and look forward to what is next!

  5. admin says:

    Thanks, Marcie. It is pretty cool, huh? I know that all the farmers out there think we are silly, but the idea of producing your own milk, butter, cheese and buttermilk is just great to me!!