When the cows come home

One thing I miss the most from my childhood youth is having a milk cow.  I love fresh milk and store bought milk in comparison is just, well, for lack of a better word, gross. Milking was one of my chores growing up and I enjoyed milking each day.  Although, I've not done it in 20 years, so my memory may be more nostalgic than reality.

We recently found a farm about 10 miles from us that sells fresh, raw milk from Jersey cows.  I've probably drank more milk in the past month than I have in the past 20 years combined.  That might be slightly exaggerated, but you get my point.  Yesterday I was picking up milk and talking to the owner, Carl, about missing having milk cows.  He told me that he often buys cows from a farm in Cape Girardeau, about 2 hours from us, that has prized dairy cattle and the owner has a few extras he wants to get rid of on the cheap. This is where city dwellers often differ from country folk.  I'm sure Carl knows that if we buy a dairy cow, we'll obviously stop buying milk from him.  But he told me anyway because he saw a need and felt he could help.

Upon returning home I excitedly told Dan about the cows for sale.  Dan called Carl to get the dairy farmers number (his name is also Carl) and called to chat - they talked about breeds, age, production, genetics, etc.  After the call, Dan explained to me that Carl has several cows he wants to sell and he also sells bull calves. 

This is where male versus female differences come in.

I envision 1 cow.  A cow produces roughly 4 gallons of milk per day.  More than enough for our family with leftovers for neighbors and/or farm animals.

Dan on the other hand is thinking 2 milk cows and 2 bull calves.  To start with.  Oh dear.  Then he mentioned that he's looking online for milking machines since he's afraid I won't help milk everyday.  Oh Lord, what have I gotten us into?

Well, nothing has been decided as of yet.


TO BE CONTINUED...