Milking Memories

Sometime between 1964 and 1969, age 9-14, I decided to hang out with Dad in the barn. We did not have a lot of milk cows - maybe 15 or so. While other memories of growing up have faded with time, the memories of milking cows remain.

Dad woiuld get up aboiut 5:30 in the morning to head to the barn. He was often surrounded by our barn cats, as they loved dad - more on that later. The cows seemed to be able to tell time as they would be waiting by the door in the morning, and in the evening for the second milking. The first stall belonged to a “blue roan” cow, followed by a very white and black holstein, and third was a very black and white holstein. The rest of the milking parlor filled at random. Each cow was locked into their stanchion, and got some grain for their treat.

We had a grade B dairy - milk meant for cheese, etc. This meant we carried milkers from the milkhouse into the cows. They were first “hobbled” with hobble hocks, or kickers, (also calledd hock hobbles) to stop them from kicking as we milked. There were times the cow’s tail was slipped into the hobble also, as getting swished in the face with a usually dirty tail was not fun! This was followed by a Surcingle strap across their back to hold the milker off the floor. An air hose was attached to an air line, the line was opened, the air went thru the pulsator, and the cups attached to the cows teats. The milker chugged away. When done, the cups made a huge sucking sound, which meant they needed to be taken off the cow.

The full milker was then carried to the milk house, and the milk dumped into a large metal strainer, which held a fabric type strainer that the milk went thru, into a large can. When the can was full, it was lifted into the cooler - a large, water filled tank that kept the milk cool until the milkman came to pick up. Now - the part where the cats loved dad - the fabric milk strainer was tossed on the cat dishes, where they eagerly licked up the still warm leftovers of milk. In the summer, the cooler was ideal for storing a large watermelon to keep cool!

We took a small pail of fresh milk to the house almost daily. This would go right in to the pasturizer - a machine that heated the milk for a set period of time to kill any bacteria that may be lurking. The milk also provided cream - which was ideal for homemade ice cream in the winter (dad would get ice out of the creek). And every now and then we would get ambitious and churn butter. Both of these treats - ice cream and butter - required almost a half hour of constant churning.

The milkman came every so often - a couple of times a week - and took the full cans and left empty ones. This normally worked out very well, except for one very wet spring. The roads were too muddy and the milkman could not get thru. Dad agreed to take the milk to the hard top road a mile and half away - besides, he had to take some of his children to school. (At that time, we were in a parochial school which did not have buses.) So, off we went - a couple of little girls riding in the back of the old pickup with the milk. The road, however, had other ideas as the ruts were deep and the truck bounced - and a can of milk spilled. There we were - screaming like crazy for dad to stop the truck and rescue the milk can and trying to keep our good shoes out of the flow.