Back to normal

Starting this past Saturday, we got ourselves back on a semi-normal schedule of time off for the cheap help. (The best Sunday morning I have had in a month.) Starting yesterday the boss and I began doing weekday morning milking and chores without any help.

It has gone amazingly well. The boss lost a huge percentage of the mobility of his right arm and a good portion of its strength when he fell. Still he manages to milk the north string and the three cows-from-Hell in the west line, because I am afraid of them. If I absolutely have to, I can milk Hooter, who would like to step on my head or kick me to kingdom come. Ditto Drive, who has the added feature of being a really BIG cow who flat out doesn't like me. However, I have managed to reach this ripe old age having never, ever, put the milker on Soir Noir (who should be called Coeur Noir in my humble opinion). I am hoping to keep both my record and my brains intact. They don't give him much trouble, except Hooter, who is a typical Jersey pain in the neck.

I am very grateful that he is back, even partly. You don't appreciate what someone else does until they don't do it any more and you have to. I have always taken for granted being able to leave the barn when milking was done. Now I have to stay until every last little tidbit of work is done, setting up the washers, putting in the soap, milking the bucket cows, every bit of it. I miss the good old days when those were his jobs and I took care of last minute supper preparations or tossing wood in the stove, and taking care of dogs and such....but at least he can milk so the girls don't have to before(and after) college. That was rough on them and I am glad it is behind them.

They are closing the river down and opening the locks early this year, because supposedly they are running out of water. The bigs boats are scurrying south while they still can.

The sumacs remind me of the ghosts of British soldiers, standing in scarlet ranks and waving at us as we pass.