I was not convinced that this particular entry on The List would actually happen. I claim to have grown up in a village (not too far from the truth) but this girl is way more suburban than rural. The most annoying scene of The Sound of Music is when Maria is frolicking through the mountains singing, “The hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiills are aliiiiiiive with the soooooooound of muuuuuuuuuuuuuuusiiiiiiic!”
Seriously, a nun running through the hills singing? The reality of that scene would be said nun tripping over her habit, landing face first in mud, getting bitten by mosquitoes or at least chased by some crazy, smelly sheep. At least in my idea of the Country Life it would be.
This citified girl is not the Maria or Heidi type. On weekends you won’t find me communicating with nature or hand rearing baby animals (or frolicking on Table Mountain)… So I added “Milk a Cow” to The List and kind of hoped it would never actually have to happen.
I was laughing about it a few days later with a colleague who immediately said, “My friend has a farm and they have cows you can go milk!”
Five minutes later it was organised that I would milk a cow at their farm. I delayed the inevitable for as long as possible and ended up rushing to the farm four days before I turned 30. Great planning, Sarah.
My baby sister was intrigued by the idea of milking a cow so opted to come with me and my Mother was determined to have a good laugh watching my journey into the farm life. Supportive family right?
We arrived on the farm and greeted the cows while we waited for Andries, the regular cow milker, to help us out.
We walked across the cow yard, sidestepping cow pats and mud piles, all the while keeping an eye on the cows there, making sure they weren’t following us. Some of those cows had crazy eyes, I swear.
Andries guided one of the biggest cows into the milking pen. Sharing a small square room with three other people and one super large cow was pretty unnerving. Mom was reminiscing about her childhood on the farm in between laughing at my squeamish response to the fact that there was no going back now…
I figured the whole process might be easier and less traumatic for this city girl if I made a connection with the cow. I took Renicia to the cow’s face and asked Andries her name. She has no name was the response. No help there. Really? How hard would it be to call her something cowish? Bessie maybe? Daisy? Even Cow? No. No name.
So Andries put special cream on Nameless the Cow’s udders and gave them a few squeezes to get the milk flowing a bit easier. This was my reaction….
Then Andries turned to me. It was my turn to convince Nameless the Cow to give us some milk…
I was pretty much grossed out by the feel of her udders… Warm, old, soft leather is what it felt like… I pulled two or three times and was surprised and a tiny bit proud when the milk stream squirted into the bucket. This girl’s got skills.
The pride was very quickly followed by the return of the “eew gross” vibe.
I lasted only a little bit longer before I realised I could now cross it off The List and I was done. Andries got Mom to give it a go and the farm girl in her kicked in with a bang and I realised my mother is Heidi.
Renicia was not easily convinced to try. The thought of milking Nameless the Cow did not appeal to my Sunshine. Eventually, holding onto Mommy, she let Andries help her try…
It’s clear from her reaction that we are definitely related!
Done and dusted! (And glad its over!)
PS: No, I didn’t drink the milk… Eew! Gross!