A guest post by my Husby, Grant.
Meet Daisy. |
On the farm in the early 1960s, one of the daily chores – actually twice
daily, morning and evening – was milking the cow.
For a few years we had a super-gentle, highly-milk-productive Jersey cow
named Daisy.
In rotation with some of my brothers, our twice daily job was to go out
into the north pasture, bring Daisy into the barn, and tease from her the
twice-daily bounty of rich, creamy milk.
Milking Daisy wasn’t a terribly hard task. She always stood very quietly while one of us
milk-boys would sit on the three-legged stool beside her and extract her
bounteous supply.
Her only quirk – and I am convinced she knew exactly what she was doing
– was that she quite enjoyed swishing her tail around to her human-occupied
side, pretending to swat at flies but hitting us square in the side of the head
with a rather hard and hairy-raspy appendage. I think it was her way of saying “hurry
up, I haven’t got all day here!” Daisy
loved her rich pasture much better than the annoying milking barn.
Daisy’s pasture was directly north of the barn, and she seemed to
always migrate to the far side, at least a half mile away. When it was time for milking, we could always
bet that she would be right in the far corner.
Bringing Daisy in was the hardest part of the milking routine, because
we always had to walk out to bring her in – about a mile or more, twice a day.
Then, as a young lad, I discovered the concept of laziness.
I realized that Daisy was a gentle enough soul that I could actually
hop up on her back and she would let me ride!
This cut down the twice-daily walking by half!!
I thought I was pretty smart.
Except that Daisy liked her pasture.
Oh, she would move alright when I was on her back, but she would head
to yet another far corner of the pasture rather than towards the barn.
I decided that what Daisy needed was a steering wheel. So one day, going out to get Daisy, I took an
old corn broom with me, hopped up on Daisy’s back, and used the broom to “steer”
her, so to speak. She would start
walking in a random direction, but if I wanted to steer her meanderings toward
the left, I would cover her right eye with the broom – magic! She would move left. And of course the opposite happened when I
needed to go to the right. Within days I
had the system perfected, and Daisy had been trained to take me right to the
milking stall in the barn, complete with my laziness and broom steering
mechanism.
Daisy was with us for many years.
I am sure my bones are still made out of her wonderful, fresh milk. When Diane and I married, we bought two more
lovely Jersey milk cows, Kitty and Bunny (that’s another story, click here)
largely because of the good memories we had of Driving Miss Daisy.
And now I have a visual of a boy on a cows back using a broom as a rudder...gave me a BIG smile for the day.
ReplyDeleteI get the same vision. Barefoot. Slightly grubby. And smiling from ear to ear!
DeleteIn our neck of the woods we had Frosty, the one I learned to milk, and then Camel, who could tank up on water like a camel, thus the name. Frosty was pretty mundane so there isn't much of a story on her, but Camel. I already wrote a story on her that Mom almost disowned me over. It's in the Berg history book but I might add it to my own blog, providing Mom doesn't reach out from above like a bolt of lightning and end my pitiful existence. You see Mom is in that story and she wasn't at all happy about the (humorous?) outcome.
ReplyDeleteOh, add it! Add it! Everyone needs to hear that story!
DeleteCertainly a twist on Driving Miss Daisy!
ReplyDeleteI loved that movie! Yeah. This story misses Morgan Freeman and Jessica Tandy! :)
DeleteHi Grant! Ah you brought back some good memories for me with this post. When I was teenager I would visit my aunt/uncle & cousins in central Nebraska where they had a ranch. They also had a milk cow although I can't remember her name. Of course she was always standing at the gate every morning because apparently the grain she received was better than just the grasses of the sandhills of Nebraska. That milk sure tasted good then...but I wonder if it would taste as good now? I have pretty much given up all milk and have swtiched to soy. Still, great memories and a VERY creative way to get her going how you wanted! ~Kathy
ReplyDeleteOh, the things that tasted so good when we were young! That we are sensitive to now . . . Sigh.
DeleteLovely story.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much, Rena!
DeleteNecessity might not be the only mother of invention!! Great story!
ReplyDeleteYep. Laziness helps, too! :)
DeleteThat's not laziness, that's resourcefulness. You clever boy.
ReplyDeleteGood point! :)
DeleteWhat a delightful story! Thanks for sharing it!
ReplyDeleteAnd thank you for visiting, Susan!
DeleteAm a "little behind" in my blog reading. This post was such a great way to begin my Friday as it left a smile on my face. Thanks for sharing
ReplyDelete