Christina Anniversary

Christina came to us one year ago today.  I remember that first day, so full of excitement and trepidation.  Our first week with Christina could have been straight out of a sit-com, with buckets getting kicked, taking an hour to milk, and a shy cow trying to teach us a few things.  We knew so little.

We've learned a lot over the past year.  We've dealt with milk fever, mastitis, and bloat.  We know just how much hay a cow eats, how to get a cow to come when she'd rather not, and how to get a stubborn leg out of the way when we milk.  We've also learned about cow kisses and hugs.

After that first week of sloppy milking, we now milk with strength and speed, usually finishing in 15 minutes.  A year ago I dreaded milking; today I enjoy it.  With my hands moving rhythmically, birds chirping quietly, and Christina enjoying her massage, milking has become a peaceful and grounding part of my day.

The rhythm of our lives has changed.  Milking and caring for cows keeps us at home with new routines in the mornings and the evenings.  Cheese making is a regular part of our week. Moving hay and cleaning the shed are part of our annual cycle.

A little while back, a friend asked us "so how long are you going to keep this up?" It's a good question. We are city people who've jumped into this sustainable living thing.  When will we go back to "normal?"

Parts of this life are difficult.  We work hard.  We used to just get up in the morning and have breakfast.  Now we get up, clean the cow shed, feed the cows, milk, filter the milk, pour the milk, and an hour and a half later, finally have breakfast.  Evenings are similar. 

My arms get tired from milking and stirring cheese.  My back gets tired from hay and shed cleaning.  Sometimes we're just tired and we don't walk to milk, but we have to get up and head out because Christina needs us.  And then there are those unscheduled needs — injecting calcium when she had milk fever and treating mastitis.

But every day we are reminded of the benefits.  Twice a day we bring a full pail of heavy, dense milk into the house.  After 12 hours in the frig, almost a quarter of it has separated into velvety cream.  I've never known milk to be so satisfying, so hearty, so succulent.

This last year I have learned how to make most every dairy food — cream cheese, butter, yogurt, mozzarella, fromage blanc, ricotta, cheddar, colby, parmesan, and romano.  Every one tastes better than I ever expected.  Even our aged hard cheeses aren't just good, they're the best I've ever had.

With those pails of milk, security comes into our house.  We are fed not by the money in our wallets but by the creative work of God, through Christina.  Instead of skimping, like we've done our whole lives, we have a sustained abundance.

With Christina came calves.  One we bought from the dairy where we got her.  The other one she birthed last November.  These calves will be meat for us in the coming years.  In the meantime, they are a part of our family.  One of the steers has taken to laying down every day before we go out to clean the shed.  When my daughters see him laying down, they always go cuddle.  I don't think that laying down is a coincidence.

A friend came over the other day and had lunch with us.  It was a typical lunch for us.  Bread had just come out of the oven and she helped me churn some butter.  She took a bite of warm bread with fresh butter and exhaled, "I'll just have this."  After a few slices, she added some apricot jam we made last summer.  Seeing the look of pure pleasure on her face was a reflection of the joy that is ours everyday.

There are days that seem too full of everything and I think, "I could give this up."  But then I think that giving up the work today would mean no Christina milk tomorrow, and I realize I am completely committed to this lifestyle.  Some things are worth hard work.  Yeah, I think we're into this for the long haul.

Today we celebrate Christina and we thank God for this life.  Thank you!  Thank you!  Thank you!