So… I get up, get ready for work, drive this am cuz I’m not feeling the best and dread the 6 minute walk in -20… get initial setup done and get half way through getting the girls upandatem and another milker shows up.. turns out this in not my Sunday morning to milk!! I leave him and my partner to finish getting the girls going… thinking I’m just gonna leave and go home to bed… walking through the parlor and milk house I figure I’d get everything all set up and ready for them to milk… the other milker (not my partner.. the other guy ) gives me “a look” and walks over to talk to my partner. . lol. In the past a few times I’ve done thing like that and he has mentioned to my partner. . “She knows she’s not getting paid for this.. right?” And I’m sure he’s sayin it again.. and I just can’t help but laugh a little… this boy does not know me very well… First.. it’s none of his business what I get paid for and what I don’t. . And Second.. this is the kind of thing grown up mature people do sometimes. . We do little things for nothing because it makes someone else’s job or day a little easier… “Grow up you douchey little brat that no one likes to work with.. grow up”
So… here I am home..
Smooshey and tigger say…. “were going back to bed aren’t we… come on mom.. it’s soooo cozy here with us”
Look at that floofy tail! Look. At. It.
And ninja kitty .. she wants breakfast early.. lol
“Feed. Me. Now.. “
“Yes Sweet smiley kitty… yes”
It’s a no brainer for me today in this struggle to be at peace with not working all day every day… early nom noms for Ninja Kitty and a then to bed for snuggles with my floofy and stinky beasts..
Chompy bitey monster puppy is still asleep in his crate… lol.
So much has changed… and so much has stayed the same.. I miss my boss, my friend and the cows… they were each very special and each left a permanent mark on who I am.. I promise to never forget what they taught me…
Yesterday I waited till everyone was gone from the barn and I sat with this brand new baby and I cried… I cried about everything I lost and about all the changes the past year brought… I cried because. . Like the cows… I thrive on consistency. ..
But… I think I’m gonna make it. .. even if things change again in the future… that is the lesson I’m trying to learn.. that no matter what.. I.. we are going to be ok..
I’m 2 thirds finished with the prayer shawl I’m crocheting to donate in memory of my late friend…
It’s called Violet in blues.. I hope that whoever ends up with it truly feels the love I put into each stitch…
And here is one of my favorite cows ..
#119. After every milking she stands at the front of the parlor.. puts her head in the side of the trimming stanchion.. and listens to the radio while she waits for her friend.. simple little things that I’d do well to remember. .
So clean… and quiet until 190 various personalities come in and mess up the joint. .
One of my favorite cows is Emma…
Emma is a total ham for the camera..
I’m SO pretty!
Are cameras yummy? Let me lick it!
Fay is photogenic .. and rather unimpressed. .
The past 18 months have been… well.. a struggle and I am still grieving the losses I’ve suffered. . Someone once told me grieving is sometimes done in bits and parts and pieces. .. and that is what I am doing..
Learning to Loving these cows… like I loved Vi’s cows is taking some time..
As life keeps on rolling along like it always will.. my daughter’s and I got to take some time this weekend to spend at my dads. My dad grew up on a dairy farm and milked cows for his family and several neighbors till his early 20’s when he enlisted in the Navy. My dad loves hearing about my job and I love hearing stories of his life growing up on a dairy farm…. plowing with horses and milking by hand.. his family farm rarely had more than 14 (did I mention .. they milked By Hand!) but his neighbor milked up to 40 (By Hand). Stories of how he ONCE tried riding the bull and he always shows me the scar on his leg from the “dismount”. And how he never told his mother how bad it really was.. How on the coldest days of Michigan winters he and his brothers would burrow in the fresh straw with the pigs to warm up… good memories of a life that was often brutally hard but taught him the value of hard work, honesty, integrity and respect.
Here is my father… explaining to my younger daughter why he eats Oatmeal the way he does.. with a separate bowl of milk.. He said they would have a large bowl of oatmeal in the middle of the table and each had their own bowl of milk. .. it saved on dishes and he never liked eating oatmeal “soup”.. a separate bowl of milk let everyone have each bite just the way they liked it..
So… my father and my daughter ate oatmeal together Saturday morning each with their own bowl of milk… making a memory that will last each of them a lifetime… moments in life that no amount of money buys…
This one horse has lost NINE halters in FOUR years!
In other news,
With more time off and living on the farm I’m working I not only have found time to play with my horses, build nice stalls, put in a container garden (a greenhouse and BIG Garden next year) spin yarn and crochet again regularly.. I have had time to learn to draw! My mother recently passed away and my younger daughter and I acquired a large out of her art supplies…. I decided I wanted to sketch some flowers….
And so… I did.
I am not an artist… have zero talent for any drawing or painting. … but I still like to try. . I spent an entire afternoon this weekend just sketching dandelions… lol