You have beautiful cows. My grandmother had milk cows and sold some of her milk to people in Etowah who likely found it more affordable and more to their taste (old timers). The woman who milked cows for her (as my grandmother’s children increased to 10) would stand by the milk barn and call the cattle by name to come from the pasture or feed lot and barn. “Nancy Bell, Janie, Daisy, Pearly May, Pansy, Fannie Lou”…and so on.
When milking took up and I was at my grandmother’s house, I loved standing on the big board fence and watching the “girls” parade to the barn.
One day, Miss Charlotte called a cow out of the usual order, and there was a bit of a kerfuffle as Rose, uncalled, began to assert her place. Mooing and hip-shoving ensued.
“Now girls! Stop that!” Miss Charlotte hollered.
She let Rose, an elderly cow, proceed, and gave her an apology for the mix up.
I’m so glad I grew up on a farm, and that scenes like this are still in my memory. But you, Dell, helped me retrieve this one. Thank you.
Thank you for sharing your memory, Judy! Liz, whose husband Nathan does the milking, has been relaying the settling in progress of a new Jersey named Peaches. At her old home she was haltered and put in a stanchion. Nathan milks the cows loose in a stall while they eat. She’s third in line of three currently being milked and is adapting to the many changes in her routine. Liz has been giving her a vanilla cream filled cookie as a reward when she’s well behaved!
Dell, I don't think I would be a milk maid either, if I had cows like your lovely ladies. As I understand the situation, no pregnancy or calf, no milk. I could never stand to part with a calf so I would have a herd that just grows and grows, and I would not want to have that. Our Jersey who lived on our extra acre years ago and that the owner shared her milk with us from, was just magically wonderful. Re your bison painting, how fun. When we were in South Dakota we had them everywhere it seems as we were right by Custer National Park and the Bison preserve. Love them.
You have beautiful cows. My grandmother had milk cows and sold some of her milk to people in Etowah who likely found it more affordable and more to their taste (old timers). The woman who milked cows for her (as my grandmother’s children increased to 10) would stand by the milk barn and call the cattle by name to come from the pasture or feed lot and barn. “Nancy Bell, Janie, Daisy, Pearly May, Pansy, Fannie Lou”…and so on.
When milking took up and I was at my grandmother’s house, I loved standing on the big board fence and watching the “girls” parade to the barn.
One day, Miss Charlotte called a cow out of the usual order, and there was a bit of a kerfuffle as Rose, uncalled, began to assert her place. Mooing and hip-shoving ensued.
“Now girls! Stop that!” Miss Charlotte hollered.
She let Rose, an elderly cow, proceed, and gave her an apology for the mix up.
I’m so glad I grew up on a farm, and that scenes like this are still in my memory. But you, Dell, helped me retrieve this one. Thank you.
Thank you for sharing your memory, Judy! Liz, whose husband Nathan does the milking, has been relaying the settling in progress of a new Jersey named Peaches. At her old home she was haltered and put in a stanchion. Nathan milks the cows loose in a stall while they eat. She’s third in line of three currently being milked and is adapting to the many changes in her routine. Liz has been giving her a vanilla cream filled cookie as a reward when she’s well behaved!
Jerseys are the pretty ones. But love buffalo in the mist.
I have a bit of a vulnerability hangover from such early sharing of paintings at the moment. Time to go muck the barns! And get a cow hug.
Oh, so sorry. I know that vulnerable feeling, but such a powerful image, even at that point. So beautiful.
Thank you.
Dell, I don't think I would be a milk maid either, if I had cows like your lovely ladies. As I understand the situation, no pregnancy or calf, no milk. I could never stand to part with a calf so I would have a herd that just grows and grows, and I would not want to have that. Our Jersey who lived on our extra acre years ago and that the owner shared her milk with us from, was just magically wonderful. Re your bison painting, how fun. When we were in South Dakota we had them everywhere it seems as we were right by Custer National Park and the Bison preserve. Love them.
I’m afraid I too would end up with more than I could handle here, Lee!