A little while ago, Christiana and I got the opportunity to learn how to milk cows.  Initially, the cows were a little intimidating, but as we learned how things worked and got to know the cows individually, the cows seemed to shrink in size and grow in personality and intelligence.

When one is milking, one is not only getting something from the cow, one is also giving ease from a full udder.  The cows sighed, and moved their feet as we asked them to so that we could help them become more comfortable.  They’re eager to come into the milking parlour, and not only for the small portions of grain that they’re allowed.

The milk is collected in a giant metal can, and then poured through a filter and into jars.

There’s a lot of steps, in milking, to keep the milk clean and the cows healthy.  We wash the teats, wash our hands, wash the parlour, wash All The Things.

Eventually, as we get better at this, we’re hoping to get our milk for the week in under 90 minutes.  We belong to a full cow-share, where we all split the cost and care of the cow and we each take home whatever milk is available on the day we milk.  It’s such a wonderful opportunity, to be able to try out cow-ownership with only 1/7 the cost and effort.  I have no idea whether a family cow is in our future, but it certainly seems more possible now than it did two weeks ago.  And given the sparkle in Christiana’s eye whenever we talk about milking day, I suspect that some kind of milk-beast will come home with us, sooner rather than later.