Milking Time
In the evening milk time, Uncle Bill's little neighbor boy, Harold Lindley, would walk a half mile from his farm to Uncle Bill's barn to listen to the baseball scores on the radio which sat on a platform nailed to the barn wall. Occasionally, a cow would kick over the milk pail and Uncle Bill, who normally was a quiet, reserved person, would cuss a blue streak at the cow. Similar words were uttered whenever a cow's tail would swish across his face. Remember, a cow's tail is unlike the fine fur of a cat's tail. The tail hairs are usually coarse and crusty with manure and can scratch a face. Some farmers would tie the cow's tail up to prevent being slapped. The final step in the milking process is to pour the milk through a strainer into the milk can. During the summer the milk can was placed in the cattle's water tank to keep the milk cool. Every other day the milkman would pick up the milk can and leave a clean one to be filled. Milkmen were known for their strength and the number of hernias they had. A full 10 gallon milk can weighed almost 100 pounds.
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To get the milk can 2 feet up into the back of the milk truck, the milkman would swing the can with a mighty heave and then drop the can at the top of the swing arc onto the truck bed. This was before they had hydraulic lifts for loading. Some of the milk was kept for personal consumption. The milk would be run through a separator which would separate the milk from the cream. Sometimes the milk was drunk straight from the cow. I doubt if anyone today could stomach drinking milk that had strings of cream in it but I can remember how good it tasted. No 2% milk in those days. Milk straight from the cow was 100 proof and probably wouldn't pass the FDA regulations of today. Besides providing milk, a cow's slow and quiet demeanor gave a sense of calmness to the farmstead. In addition, they provided practical solutions such as when we would use the cow's dried manure patties as bases when playing baseball in the pasture. Occasionally, as a little boy I would lick their salt blocks until my mother would see me and chase me out of the pasture. Those of us who survived the lack of government regulations on milk production are none the less for wear and have many happy memories of milking time.
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