Foster's Dairy

I was reading through threads this morning and this one tickled my
funnybones: (seen on a milk truck)

 Get High.......Drink Milk......Our Cows are on Grass !

 I have laughed all morning. It made me think of Foster's Dairy. It is out
of town a little ways from us...God fearing, hard working, cow loving
people. They work so hard to keep the milk flowing. I love a good glass of
ice cold milk, cold buttermilk, and Purple Cows, { A purple cow is a
milkshake made with grape juice and vanilla ice cream, so frothy, so cold
and soooooo gooooood! } . It reminded me of Old Bessie, my  Grandpa's cow.
I can still see Grandpa sitting on the milking stool milking her, the cats
would circle around him, he would give a good squeeze and send a stream of
milk shooting through the air with dead accuracy....all over the cat's
face...and he would laugh. I would sit down to milk, and I got swatted
with the cow's tail, Old Bessie would aim her hoof and manage to get me
along the ear at times, or the milk would be spilled on the floor. I was
hopeless. However, I can milk goats without problem. Grandma would save
the thick cream as it rose to the top of the containers, and later in the
day, we would sit and churn butter, up and down, up and down, till the
golden flecks begin to appear, and soon they cling together to form that
beautiful yellow butter. Then we would put the butter into molds. Our
molds were not fancy, just plain little wood squares that held about a
pound,pack it in, push down the handle, and there was a square of butter
to be put in the refrigerator. It also reminds me of this little saying I
love:

 If a black cow can eat green grass and give white milk that makes yellow
butter, you know God is in charge.

 The years have come and gone, rules have changed, you can no longer go to
the dairy to buy your milk in your own container, we used to buy baby
calves to raise, many times they were so weak with the scours, they would
give them to you as they had a small chance of thriving. We used to have
bottles everywhere to fill with powdered milk formula for them, and hang
the bottles on the fence. They were hungry little buggers. The funny
memories that linger are a calf pushing against a bucket with a nipple on
it, and pushed Benny into the hot wire. They both got it. I laughed till I  cried. Memories,Memories, what a blessing the Lord gives us to recall the
happy times. Life is short. Enjoy each moment.