To cow or not to cow

Dennis has described to me the joys of a Jersey cow. An almost spiritual experience. Milking in the cold, dark winter night. The smell of hay and soft cow, mixed with the sound of chewing and deep breathes as you lean your head against her big round belly and squirt foamy milk into your pail. A dreamy contented connection with you and nature.

It has to be a Jersey, They are the sweetest, he tells me. And the richest milk. Damn near half cream.

The romance is most definitely romantic. I think in spite of all my hesitation, we will be rich with milk. Milk that we think is disgusting and won't drink. We've been forcing down the the throats of our six children organic soy, for years, much to their dismay. Not ever converting them,  no, they love the big full glass of the cow.

Cheese, however is a thing we can get behind. Dennis almost lives for cheese. Yogurt is delightful and who doesn't like sour cream on a baked potato?

To make our own cheese? To have rich cream for baking? The undoctored raw milk just as it should be, full of nutrients and goodness, just might be worth the commitment.

The commitment is huge. No spur of the moment backpacking trips. No whimsical overnighters. Nope, she needs you every night and every morning. We'll need to have people for sure, so good thing all six of our kids love milk.

What I'm starting to realize though, is this, I just might need her. If the milk in the big box stores (from gross factory torture chambers) stop arriving by truck/oil, what on earth will I do? If a life without cheese freaks me out, maybe it's cow time.

 If I can head into the barn on a cold winter night and feel a connection with a beautiful pet/friend and make ice cream for the grandkids or Dennis, then maybe it's time. Time to settle down, to get connected to the land and grow my own food, no matter what the commitment.

No chemicals, no watering down, no bureaucrats telling me what I can and cannot eat or drink. Just me, in the old country milking my Jersey. OK, me dreaming about the old world and the way things were before we really started screwing it all up.

Yep. To Cow.                                                                                                                                   

-Tammy