Milking matters

Learning how to milk our three Dexter cows has been a labour of love. Their teats are so much smaller than a dairy cow and it can be quite frustrating for someone with big hands. A few weeks into milking the girls, we bought a second-hand milking machine. Apart from being very noisy, it hasn’t been very useful with the Dexter’s. A fact, had we known we may not have bought the machine. You see the suction cups weren’t made for the parts of a Dexter. Be that as it may we put it down to part of the learning. Johnny assures me it will come in use some day in the future. Now that Daisy, our Jersey heifer is here I can see that we will use it again. In the old barn Johnny set about building a milking ramp. Watching him from distance I smiled as I saw the feeding trough go in, the bars to contain the cow and then the last piece to go in was the removable bar across the back to hold any such cow. It was nothing fancy but it would do the job. It was another hot sweaty day but it was sweet success in the end and I found myself eager to put our newly constructed milking unit to use. I could hardly sleep that night for excitement. I finally drifted off into a deep sleep dreaming of the adventures of tomorrow. The following day we had warm fresh milk in the fridge however little it was. Being extra vigilant about hygiene, and rather uncertain about all the bad press on drinking raw milk, I was pleasantly surprised at how the whole process went rather effortlessly. In the months to come, I would have to deal with buckets being kicked over; sand papery licks to the side of my head when I was to slow at replenishing the grain I was feeding Crystal. My fingers began deft as holding onto Crystal’s teats and I would complete a milking session in less than half an hour from start to finish. Milking time was early in the morning and late at night and so the routine began. Johnny would do the morning and I would do the evening milking. We fell into a smooth pattern and our confidence grew. Every day I faced a new three to four litre of fresh farm milk. I also discovered that the whole milk wasn’t too good for my tummy. It was far too rich for me and the cream needed to be separated. I started getting tummy aches every time I used it. Apart from me everybody else was okay and managed to make the transition easily to whole milk. I started baking furiously to use up the milk and everybody including Spot our dog enjoyed the abundance of milk being supplied each day. The milking sessions became times of reflection and planning. As my finger got to work, my mind would wander to all my dreams and plans I had. It was so rewarding this lifestyle. It’s what I dreamed and what we’ve wanted for so long. Teaching the children to milk was such an opportunity, watching the expressions as they tasted the warm squirt of milk in their mouths for the first time was priceless. When I think back on that period of learning, it brings a warm fuzzy feeling to my heart. Back then that milking learning curve was just about the best thing since sliced cheese. Today we are gearing up to having a cheese making outbuilding and planning to turn our raw product into a marketable food item. When we started milking, all I could think off was how fun it was. Somewhere along the line the fantasy faded and the reality set it. I still enjoy the experience immensely but my focus has changed somewhat. As Jimmy would say if your farm doesn’t make money then it’s just a hobby. My passion has altered a fair bit. I realise that I don’t want just a hobby but a marketable product. It’s going to take a lot more learning I guess and probably many mistakes along the way but that’s what makes the experience worth it.