re-milking

For the past month or so, I have been slowly reintroducing milk into my diet and have even been giving River dairy products to sample on his own.

He has had no problems with any of it: no stomach pains, no gas, no diarrhea, and no blood in his stools. His only reaction to yogurt, cheese, and even a taste of ice cream: mmmm...

So far, so good.

So good, in fact, that we have been getting fresh local milk for the past couple of weeks. The farm where we used to get our milk before our dairy-free stint is down to one milking cow and more customers than they can keep up with.

We found another farm just over the border in Oklahoma, and they welcomed us to come for a visit to meet their milking cow and see the farm.
Making arrangements through Craigslist leaves for a degree of uncertainty. I never quite know who I'm dealing with until we meet face to face.

When we first met Sue and saw the farm, Gabriel and I were hesitant. Sue lives in a trailer home with an assortment of campers in the front yard. I counted at least four of her grandkids milling about, all with obvious behavioral issues, and I am pretty sure some of her grown children live in the campers in the front yard.

But after I got over my fear of the geese standing guard in the driveway, and began to follow Sue and her husband around their farm, I had a glimpse into a life different from my own and the way I think things should be.

These are kind people. The animals are well-cared for and well-loved. And those grandkids, they were enthusiastic about their farm, telling us all about the ducks down by the pond, the bottle-fed steer gentle enough to pet on the nose, and early morning milking with Grandpa.

The farm is scrapped together, and filled to the brim with different kinds of animals. Guineas are everywhere, keeping the fleas and ticks at bay in the warm months. They have chickens for eggs, and ducks in the pond.

These two were scheduled to become bacon the next day. The kids were licking their lips with excitement just telling us about it.

And this is the milking cow. She is half holstein, half milking shorthorn. She provides enough milk for us to have 4 gallons a week, which hardly puts a dent in their milk supply.

Sue delivers the milk to our house on the weekends.

Having fresh milk in the house seems like such a luxury now. A cup of coffee with some cream skimmed from the top makes my morning.

And I have begun making yogurt and cheese again. I am finally getting good at mozzarella.

These mediteranean burgers (recipe from the March 2011 issue of Everyday Food) were amazing topped with homemade feta and yogurt.

It all seems like such a gift: yes, the milk to drink and make into yummy treats, but even more so, the chance to know people I otherwise would never have approached. The fact that I even make such a distinction shows I still have a long way to go. This learning to love people as people. But I am glad for the milk that is helping me along the way.