This weekend, as I was cooking some casseroles to take for Easter Sunday, Jeff comes inside and says, "Let's hop on the Kubota and go down to the barn. Mr. Burt's milking that cow."
Jeff: So. You're gonna milk it.
Me: Nah. I'm good. Just gonna make my pasta.
Jeff: Ah, come on babe. You can mark it off your bucket list.
**At this point, I'm thinking silently...Is milking a cow on my bucket list? Actually, have a made a bucket list? I've seen the movie. I love Morgan Freeman-great actor. I even thought I'd make one. But nope, pretty sure I wasn't, when I even got around to make that list, was not, going to put "milking a cow" on it.**
Jeff: Ready babe?!
Me: I guess.....and where'd you get my camera??
What is it about him that just makes me go??? Is it those blue eyes? Those arms, oh geez. Maybe it's just that I'm so content here, with him, everything that's out of my comfort zone, it's suddenly so comfortable. Except the roosters....I could really do without those roosters.
So we went down to the barn. Mr. Burt, a neighbor, and dear friend of the family, is milking one of the Robinson cows. Mr. Burt is tough but tender. He is the definition of country. The kind of man I imagine comes with a lot of stories of "the good ol' days." The kind of man I would love to sit next to on a rocking chair and just listen to while we sip lemonade....actually, he probably prefers moonshine (I told you he is tough.)
Anyway, he drinks this milk. His wife cooks with it. GAG. And since Jeff added "milking a cow" to my non-existant bucket-list, we thought there's no one better to teach me than ol' Mr. Burt.
So I straddled that stool, with my pink flip flips, pearls, and Costas pearched on my head....grabbed a teet....and started squeezing!
So there. Marked that one off the bucket list. Jealous?