Time To Do The Milking

I dragged out my many boxes of photos yesterday looking for some specific ones which I did not find. Instead I found this one of my folks milking.

It is a 5x7 photo. I don't know who took it and had it enlarged, nor when. But I have the feeling it may have been my future sister-in-law, Ruthie, the first time Ron brought her home to meet the family. She was a big city girl captivated by life on the farm. She loved all the animals.

Mom and Dad must have been going somewhere after the chores were done. Mom has on the scarf she wore when she had curlers in her hair.

And look at those milk stools - a flat board nailed to a short post. No fancy three-legged stools for us!

As a teen, I disliked helping do the milking. Now, looking back, it is a fond memory - going to the pasture to bring the cows up to the barn before I was old enough to milk. Later, appreciating the warmth from them when I milked on cold days. (But hating being hit by a tail swishing flies in the summer.)

Recently I heard about a young Iowa couple who started farming with a small dairy herd specifically to make and sell artisanal cheese, which I hope to someday sample.

I could watch the video heading from their Lost Lake Farm:
https://www.facebook.com/lostlakefarmllc/

 You know - 'til the cows come home.