milking

Its amazing isn’t it. How fast we grow, why it seems just like yesterday, when I was out side milking the cows. Cruizing down the farm track to the paddock. Then racing around the cows trying to get them to hurry up, all the meanwhile rarcking it up, lettingthe back wheels slide out.


And then just sitting there moving at a cows pace behind them, enjoying the hot afternoons sun.

But the simple fact was it wasn’t yesterday, and they weren’t my cows, hell I was only the visitor, nothing more but an imposter, dreaming of days gone by, yet wishing they were a part of today.

Pulling up beside the farm dairy I had told the girls here’s your surprise. Sreams of delight and fright fulled my ears. With them daring tobelieve what was to happen.

Standing tall and proud I had gallantly lead them into the shed, wheres the farmer I declared, I’m in the house, so you had better watch out!!! Simple things they were puttingthe cups on a cow, reaching between her back legs then easing each cup onto her teat. A chore performed all around the country about the same time every day, millions of time a year. I had always thought any fool could do this job.

Yet there they were, not a Kiwi, not a farmer even. And it was then that I realized that not many Kiwis get this opportunity. And there I was privelleged and honoured by their grace to be shareing this unique experience.

So it was through the sea of shit and piss we waded to get to the pit where the cows are milked