HOMEGROWN Life: Milking with Frannie

enjoys having a quiet conversation every morning about our days. Well, a
few things have changed since our days have grown shorter and the
hormones have started ramping up. This ain’t your grandmother’s PMS.
This is 145 pound, off the wall, chew the boards, kick the bucket kind
of hormone crazy.</p>
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Milking with Dollie is an idyllic experience, a zen moment, a type of
meditation. The most unpredictable thing about it is not knowing whether
she’ll want one or two alfalfa cubes when she’s ?nished. Milking with
Frannie on a good day starts with her frantically rushing the gate
bursting past Dollie, leaping onto the milking stand and then turning to
give me “the look”. She’s de?nitely got the ‘tude. Once she’s munching
away on her grain, and I use that term munching loosely as it’s more
like a swirling, grinding, tossing, blast of feed ?ying thru the air
kind of thing (remember your Mother always told you not to chew with
your mouth open?) she settles down and the milking begins. I have to say
for the most part, things go smoothly. We have our odd day when she
decides it would be a good idea to remind me who’s in charge. Those
times, and especially if I’m relaxed and taking my time milking, she’ll
lift up her left foot just high enough so that whatever is stuck to the
bottom of it winds up on the milk pail with a decided plop. Nice.<br />
During breeding season, things get a little more interesting. The plop
is preceded by a little dance, a dirty look which translates to “stop
pulling on my ta ta’s or I’m going to stick my foot in that bucket” and
some decided shifting back and forth letting me know she’s done with
this little exercise for now thank you very much.<br /> My mentor and I
have had several conversations about breeding season and the changes in
the girls behavior. We both agree that goats do get PMS and POST-MS.<br /> He’s been watching his girls for 30 years so I ?gure he’s got some experience with the mood swings of goats in season.<br />
Last year I decided to milk through so every 3 weeks or so, Frannie and
I did our little dance together. It was a long winter. This year, my
plans are to take her for her ride in the back of the Volvo to visit Mr.
Neptune the ?rst chance I get. I have three girls lined up this year
for a little ride. Hopefully if all goes well, we’ll be adding to the
herd around the end of March or early April next year. That’s my plan
anyway. I have no idea what the goat’s plans are.<br /> My Grandmother
used to tell me I had the patience of Job. I think to be a goat farmer,
it’s a requirement. Maybe it’s a requirement with any farming, waiting
for crops to grow, waiting for rain to come, waiting for snows to melt.
In farming, as in life, you do a lot of waiting.<br /> I waited half my life to try my hand at farming. It was worth the wait. <br data-mce-bogus=”1″>
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Dyan Redick, <a data-mce-href=”http://www.bittersweetheritagefarm.com/Home.html” href=”http://www.bittersweetheritagefarm.com/Home.html”>Bittersweet Heritage Farm</a>
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<p>I<em> describe myself as an accidental farmer with a purpose. My farm, located on the St. George peninsula of </em>
<em>Maine is a certi?ed Maine State Dairy. I offer cheeses made with milk from my registered Saanen goat </em>
<em>herd, a seasonal farm stand full of wool from my Romney cross ?ock, goats milk soaps, lavender, </em>
<em>woolens and whatever else strikes my fancy. Bittersweet Heritage Farm is an extension of my belief that  </em>
<em>we should all gain a better understanding of our food source, our connection to where we live and to the </em>
<em>animals with whom we share the earth.</em>
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