KSMilkmaid

I was on a mission. After introducing the ladies to a real man, I had a nice layer of green goo in the stock trailer. For those who don’t know, I artificially inseminate my dairy cows. After moving the girls twice (they were boarded up in Kansas and then moved to Missouri), I found they are not settling like they should. That means I have not been able to get them bred. Gotta love that dairy lingo. Sunday afternoon I took three cows who were not bred to reside with a bull for a while. Hauling cows is always an adventure. Driving the old farm truck is a thrill. Yes, I still have that old farm truck. It still groans like a dinosaur when I round corners. And, it is anybody’s guess whether it will make the trip without event. Driving it means I am a thrill seeker. Perhaps that is why I have never had any use for amusement parks. I have enough amusement running a dairy farm and taking care of six kids to last a lifetime. Yesterday was no exception. The thrill yesterday involved determining if the truck had enough gas to complete my mission.  The gas gauge doesn’t work.  I was tired and really didn’t want to stop and fill up the truck with gas. After a lethargic debate with myself, I decided to stop in the gas station and fill her up. Ah … I was sure to reach my destination, a carwash, without event.All was going well until … I realized engineers in the great state of Missouri maliciously designed all the town roads to be exceedingly narrow. Further, I am new to town. I had no idea where the carwashes were. My goal was to take the trailer to the carwash and spray out the goo. It was as simple as that. Simple, clean, and not at all messy.

One new skill I had to develop on demand last year was learning to back the stock trailer up. It sounds easy, right? The first time I backed the stock trailer, I had six month old twins on my lap. I was quite thrilled with my precision backing experience. Without twins on my lap, I am a disgrace. This past year I winged it a lot. I found myself in a couple of near destruction experiences with the stock trailer. I solved the problem by being a gal. It works well. I just step out of the truck and helplessly ask a male bystander to assist me with my stock trailer. Yesterday, the bystanders were all female and the only male had no clue what I was pulling.

Hilly country also presents another frustration. The line of vision is diminished. I drove down a road that I thought was a through road only to find Missourians like to keep you guessing about no outlets. They don’t put signs up on each road.

I finally located the carwash only to find the turn to sharp to pull my trailer in without structurally remodeling the carwash. On the way out of town, I happened by a carwash built for semi trucks. Triumph!!!!

I hopped out of the truck and began a frantic search for quarters. My search produced enough for one car wash experience. I was not worried. I felt I could get it all in one fell swoop. I should have been worried. Boy, was I wrong. Do you remember what I said about this mission being simple, clean, and not at all messy? Think again.

I fired up the carwash to find it was a real blast. Imagine the experience. High pressure water encounters greenish brownish aromatic goo. Only it wasn’t so gooey anymore. It was more dry, glue like adhesive dry. After two minutes the car wash sounded an alarm, I was running out of time. I became desparate and worked quickly to no avail. The power wash ended with a mere spurt. I glanced down at my legs and looked at my clothes. I am a pale freckle faced gal. My mom used to tell my how I came by these freckles. She told me I stood behind a cow. No, mom you got it wrong!!! They come from cleaning out a stock trailer at a car wash.

My trailer was not even half clean. I headed to the bank a few blocks away. It was closed so I could get no quarters. I did get some cash from the ATM and headed to the local laundry mat. The denomination of my bills were to high for the carwash change machine. Luck would have it that the laundry mat had patrons. One boy saw me get out of the truck and his mouth dropped. I was miffed and loaded for bear. Thankfully the adolescent kid could read my expression and kept his comments to himself. There was no discreet way to enter the laundry mat. By this time not only did I look like a dairy farmer having a bad day, I smelled like one too. I wrestled with the change machine and finally got some quarters, but it was too late. The mother of the kid caught a wiff of me. She looked up and gave me an amused smile. I rubbed a few of my new freckles off my face and commented about cleaning out the stock trailer and running out of quarters.

I returned to the carwash and completed my task. The teenager called wanting me on the cell phone asking me to stop by the store to pick up what all teenagers seem preoccupied with … food. I curtly explained I would not stop, not on my life. When I arrived home, he guffawed as I trailed past him. “So that is why you didn’t want to stop.” My nine year old commented about my new freckles and the teenager kept razzing me as I went up the stairs. “Gee mom, you leave an odor trailing behind you.”

The moral of this story is clean the stock trailer immediately after use and go to the car wash armed with lots of quarters. If all else fails, give the job to the wise cracking teenager.

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

The emails from all over the globe continue fill the inbox. My recent mention of publishing password protected posts created a monster of sorts. My typically quiet readership became suddenly vocal. Glancing at the inbox statistics reveals 275 messages, with 22 still unread. Okay, so that is not a lot. But for a single mom of six home-schooled children who operates a farmstead dairy, this is quite response.

I have taken the time to respond to a few emails but I am having trouble keeping up with some of the new activity on the farm too. Please know I appreciate the time you have taken to share your heart with me. I especially appreciate emails describing how your walk with Christ was enriched by an insight, musing, or story I have shared as we lived out our lives on the farm.

As I have visited with local residents here, the project of sharing my experiences in our new town has taken on new meaning. It has grown in scope to compete with the number of people who are anxious to read our story.

I am moved that the locals here associate our presence with a revival, but I can not take credit for the work of the Lord. God alone deserves the glory. He works through unusual means to get us to lean completely on Him. And, yes…God has used suffering and turmoil in this little town to turn our hearts toward Him.

I can’t wait to share all that is happening here, but truthfully, it is a huge task and it is going much slower than I anticipated. For my local friends, I am thankful for your continued support and encouragement. You have been a blessing to my family in more ways than one. Please remember the power of prayer. I know it is difficult but we are most effective when we are on our knees in prayer. Amazing battles were won when all the warriors did was drop to their knees.

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

Ah…the signs of fall are all around. The leaves here are showing signs of turning color and are starting to drop. It has been a busy and interesting week on the farm front. I am engaging in a different style of farming then I am used to so I am busy working on implementing such changes on the farm. It should relieve the pressure and free up time for family fun and time for the winter months.

Farmers view the complexities of life through…well…farming. I mean, I am sure you have heard everything I ever needed to know I learned through farming. Sometimes it is difficult to disengage from farming lingo and engage in civilization as we know it.

Here are some examples:

Example One-

As a single woman examining the notion of remarriage, I feel a bit hopeless. I mean look at me. I have six children, six cows and a lot of baggage. Surely my baggage is enough to scare off any suitor. After all, my baggage comes complete with 36 teats. (For those who don’t know cows udders are called bags by dairymen. Each cow has four teats. Do the math and see how many cows I have.) If dairy farming doesn’t scare them away, the kids should pick up the slack. I love being a milkmaid!!!

Just so you know my baggage is intentially designed to scare off suitors. If dealing with my baggage doesn’t work, I will introduce them to my Jersey bull and tell the suitor to scratch his dulap, implying he is a sweet cuddly pet. Who needs a revolver or a pit bull? And someone suggested I needed an interposer to ward off unwanted suitors??!!?? Brutus the Jersey bull works real fine. At least the…ahem…gentleman I met in town recently sure didn’t come back after he met Brutus. I thought he was a little heavy around the middle for good dairy work. I guess I was a little judgemental because when he met Brutus he surely looked like a triathlon participant. I was amazed to see that dude move that fast with his knee injury and all. Shucks…I should a had Brutus polled (dehorned). Nah…I really rather like the trophie of torn britches he sports on his horns now.

Example Two-

As a Reformed milkmaid I am troubled at those who insist there are Five Points to Cowvinism. The best I can tell there are only four points (teats) on cows. Oh wait. Every now and then a young heifer has five teats (points). In the dairy business that is not good so we remove the extra point. Okay, so I have spent too much time on the farm as of late.

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

Thanks to the folks who have written in publicly and used my contact form to access password protected posts. The articles are still not ready. I am still tweaking the articles and developing the screening process. I will continue with normal postings until the password protected articles are ready. You can still contact me and let me know if you would like to be added to the list. I will keep a record and contact you privately when the posts are ready.

Small town atmospheres have long been heralded as a great place to raise children. Authors of the book “Raising Self-reliant children in a self indulgent world” chronicle the rise of social ills and the rise of urbanization. They show how the move away from farming has lead to a whole host of social problems. I am sure you can understand why I thrill at the notion that my children are raised in rural small town America.With our recent move we have been thrust right in the middle of a small town rural redneck America. At first, it felt as though I was thrust in the middle of a big city. After all, in Kansas I stepped out my door and saw miles upon miles of prairie grass and wheat fields. Now I step out my door and see people, cars, and general community activity. I live in an apartment above the main business in town. Yes, it was culture shock. However, after a few months…I have come to understand this little town in a new and powerful way.

Selling farm fresh products at our farm is based on the concept relationship marketing. I am not sure where I first heard the term. The truth is I did more than sell milk when I interacted with customers from the onset. I wrote many articles in the past about how the act of buying milk turned into great fellowship and sharing of faith. What’s more is often customers would engage with my children showcasing something they were passionate about which always turned out to be educational.

Greetings from the Kansas Milkmaid!

It is hard to believe a full week has passed already.  Just as I get back in the swing of blogging, my computer decides to act flu-like.  It is good to have friends available who understand these high tech gadgets.  I have never been one to have much patience….and that certainly applies to computers too.  Either way, I think the problems with the computer have been rectified.  I will return to the series on home schooling and the farm next week. 

 We have enjoyed refreshing our school books for the year and are having a delightful time learning together.  We are focusing efforts on studying God and governement with a special focus on early American history. 

I just thought I would post quickly to let everyone know we are still around and working hard. 

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid

Some believe that raising children and simultaneously farming or operating a home business can not be accomplished. This is a myth. Here is why:

We are disconnected from our children. Further, we do not view children as assets. We see them as burdens who get in the way. They drain and deplete resources rather then bless and add to our lives. Another problem is that we compartmentalize our interaction with children. Our lives can be rich and fulfilling when we integrate, rather than segregate. Let me be direct and specific.

One well meaning individual recently remarked that my children should be my priority not my farm. To this I respond:

My children are my priority and that is why I farm.

There are many aspects to this apologia on farming while raising children and home schooling. Today, I would like to touch on the home education aspect. Farming is a great platform for a quality home education. At first glance, one may wonder how farming can provide a robust comprehensive education. Again, I would like to point out biases that lead to faulty conclusions that farming simply can not offer a sound education for children. In this country, farmers are viewed with disdain. They are stigmatized as poor, dirty and uneducated. Many people blamed farming for the down fall of this nation during the Great Depression. The cultural push began to seek a college education to attain a better quality of life. Further, many people took iron clad vows to never marry a farmer or never operate a farm. Sadly, the value of farming is grossly underestimated.

Operating a farm effectively requires a broad level of skills and a diverse education. My teenager largely operated our farm last year during our personal crisis. He used a wide variety of skills to keep things in working order. He learned how to do basic electrical work (fixed a broken milk machine), plumbing (repaired the broken pipes at the well house), veterinary science (administered shots and evaluated herd health) and used administrative and accounting skills in recording sales and helping customers. This broad overview does not cover the depth of the home education my son recieved.

The farm provides a built in learning laboratory which makes education a cinch. For example, we are engaged in a study on fungi and algea this week. I began reading the textbook to the children and searched our real life to find examples to make their education come alive. Wheat berries for our home made bread were right at my finger tips. When I talked about how God made seed bearing plants with protective coatings, they could see and feel the protective coating first hand. We put some of the wheat berries in a dish of water and are waiting for them to sprout. The children have notebooks to record their findings as they watch and observe the wheat berries.

Also at my finger tips were real life examples of spores and hypha as displayed on the surface mold ripened cheeses in aging. We also found a jar of heavy cream that is developing mold spores. The children will be watching and recording the mold growth on this jar of cream during the next several days. They found examples of green, black and even red mold spores right in our kitchen. As we began studing mushrooms, the children thrilled to share mushrooms sprouting in the compost and manure piles.

The farm provides a terrific diverse learning laboratory. The children grapsed the scientific concepts and new terminology readily because they see their lesson in a meaningful context. Facts and information without a meaningful context are easily forgotten. There are countless examples of how operating a farmstead dairy business simplified my job as a home educator.

As I considered selling the cows, I was at a loss as to how to reconstruct these learning experiences in the absence of the farm. Yes, I would have all the time in the world to teach the children out of text books. They would have more of my time to teach them facts and information, but how could I recreate a this natural learning laboratory that provides depth, meaning and spontaneity to our eduction?

Join me tomorrow for examples of how our customers broadened our home education by offering themselves as living textbooks.

Udderly His,

The Kansas Milkmaid