On the back 9 and loving it!
My Grandma (Dad's Mom) had a milk cow until she got too old to milk them. She had quite the milk business in her neighborhood. I remember her bringing the pails in, and pouring the milk through cheesecloth into big glass jars that would go in the fridge. Almost half of if would rise as cream! Grandma could always spot a good milker.you mean like this? Four percent fat, straight out of the cow. When the covid garbage got out of hand and no one could find butter we were skimming the cream and making our own. Nothing better.
She would always claim that my Mom could stand a little fattening up. She may have been right. My Mom wweighed 95lbs when she got pregnant with me, and weighed 102 just before I was born, so that extra 7lbs was basically me! So Grandma would serve us home made rolls with homes churned butter, and home canned peaches and cream! OMG, it was Heaven!
Every once in a while Grandma would get tired of the grind, and they would sell the cow. After a little while, my Grandma would slap the arms of her rocking chair and tell my Grandpa, "John, we need to get down to the Grange and find us a new milk cow!" My Grandpa would just throw his hands in the air and say, "Aw, Ida!"