Milking Room

I find, as a wanna be photographer, that is difficult to take a picture of wind. 

That is, unless, the trees are bent half way over, but still, how would the viewer really get a sense of the howling of the wind, or the fact that all the trees in my yard aren’t always just bent over sideways. 

So, we’ll have to go on trust for this one. 

Trust me that these tree branches were holding on for dear life to their trunks in an effort not to be ripped off, flung through the air and used as natures weapons to strike me dead as I walked (ran) down to the barn to milk.

Trust me that the windows could have almost blown in and that the milk pan nearly blew to Kansas. 

And trust me, that I’m thankful for the 1 1/2 week old milking room.  (Count down:  4 days left until the next bi-weekly chicken coop remodel by the Animal Whisperer).

I LOVE THE MILKING ROOM.

The wind can’t touch me in here.

And that heater pumps out a mean burst of warm air.

My milking seat with wheels fits snugly under the stanchion, except for the times when my 3-year-old attempts to convince me that it is HIS and he needs it to tie to the back of his tricycle for some very important rock hauling.

And, the stanchion had a style update when the boys painted it Picture Gallery Red…a color that has shown up in various places throughout Animal Whisperer’s home remodeling and furniture building history.

The milk room is inside the chicken coop/goat pen/bunny sanctuary, so a door is required.  

Closing it off keeps it cleaner, keeps the sweet feed safe from the ever-devouring goats, keeps the heat in and the cold out.

But most importantly, it provides the next milker in line a place to rear up on her hind legs, slam her front feet on the door thunder-crack-like, peer in through the window and scare the daylights out of me on an otherwise calm milking shift. 

And then there’s her. 

Guess what happens when a chicken perches overhead?

Recall the scientific research:  What Goes Up Must Come Down.  Think of gravity. 

She drops sporadic bombs far too close to the milk stand. 

In the Animal Whisperer’s next coop remodel, we’ll need a roof over the milk room.

-  The Goat Cheese Lady

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About The Goat Cheese Lady

I am Lindsey. I am an urban farmgirl attempting to balance city and farm life. I make cheese. I milk goats. I am married to the Animal Whisperer, man of exceptional knowledge and patience, I have two boys who are louder than my sister and I ever were, two big dogs, a few milking goats, some egg laying chickens and rabbits. Coyotes, rattlesnakes, deer, bear, and bobcats are frequent visitors. Just around the corner is the city. The pool. Yoga. The neighborhood friends. But we...and our farm...are hidden...by the rocks.
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