While we were at Homestead Heritage, we were graciously accommodated at a family's house. They had a little "mother-in-law" house that sat 8 feet from their backdoor and it was just perfect for us to live in for the week. We were fed a home-cooked breakfast every morning and dinners several evenings, that is when someone else hadn't already claimed us. We were spoiled. Spoiled rotten.
The highlight of every morning for Caleb was getting dressed and hanging around the backdoor, waiting for their son, age 15, to come out to do chores so he could join him. Of course, Caleb isn't usually begging to do chores at home...maybe we need a 15-year-old boy around to motivate him? Anyway, their son was happy to allow ours to come along and help out. Caleb even got to milk the cow, which he hasn't had much opportunity for around here. You see, our cow? She's not like their cow.
On one evening, their son asked if I would like to come out and milk her. I watched as he let her in to the milking barn, put her in the stanchion and then just set the bucket under her. "Um, won't she kick it," I asked. He answered, "Nah, she hasn't kicked a bucket in ages." Unconvinced, I sat down on the stool opposite him and began to milk. I've never raved about a cow's teats before, but I will now. They were glorious. They were so nice and long, and above all, milk came out! Lots and lots of it. She didn't feel the need to hold out on us. Even though it was the evening milking, she still gave a full gallon and a half (she usually gives about 2 and a half gallons in the morning). That's a very decent amount for a Jersey cow.
I admit it. I was jealous.
They tried to comfort me by saying that our cow will likely get better in each subsequent year, that first-timers are often stubborn and short-teated. I guess I'll believe them. In the meantime, I'm really struggling with covetousness.