The Joy Of Milking

Published July 16, 2009 by glaumland

OK, I have to admit that I was not looking forward to doing the milking this morning. It really isn’t that much of a chore, because we only have the one goat; but this morning, I just wasn’t in the mood.

The whole milk goat experiment came about because Dear Hubby wanted milk cows. I have been around long enough to know how much work that is. I PUT MY FOOT DOWN! There was no way I was going to be a dairy farmer, even on a small scale. (Don’t forget, you don’t just need a cow, there has to be some bovine sex involved once a year, plus the fun of raising a bottle calf…no way, no how!)

However, Dear Hubby finally wore me down. We were spending so much money on milk, now that kids are getting bigger, and the grocery budget definitely was taking a hit. And I hate doing dishes. We haven’t had a dishwasher since 94. So Hubby told me that if I let him get a dairy goat, he’d buy me a dishwasher. Wow, a fair trade-off, at least  until I realized he wanted the dishwasher to sterilize milk bottles. Humph!

Needless to say, I broke down on the goats. One goat was lonely, so we got another goat. Then finding a buck to breed to can be tough, so now we have another goat. I’m beginning to notice a pattern here.

OK, back to my original thought…I didn’t feel like milking today.

But the cats love milking time and think that the goat is the most wonderful person on the planet (next to me, of course). So it is always fun to see them come running when they hear me with the feed and milking equipment. Baron Von Broccoli was so excited this morning he actually followed me to the goat pen. It was funny to walk back to the house – me in the lead, followed by the goat, followed by the cat. Quite a parade!

So we get settled in for the milking. I’ve been having some trouble this year with my left hand. Don’t know if it is the fibromyalgia or what. Anyway, I’ve been frustrated (and so has the goat) by my inability to get a good stream and rhythm going. So this morning I tried switching hands (which isn’t just a matter of switching sides) and viola! It worked. I’ll try it again tonight to see if it was just a fluke.

Finally, milking is all done, and it’s time for some lovey-dovey time with the goat. This is a nice, quiet time for petting the goat and telling her how wonderful she is. Unfortunately, she landed a few goat kisses on my face, which in and of themselves aren’t so bad. But goats like poison ivy, and I’m highly allergic to poison ivy, so I may be walking around with a disfigured face for a while. Oh well…it was worth it.

Until next time…

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