MONDAY:
We were scheduled to work out at Lucky Penny Farm, but an early morning text from Abbe told us otherwise: the creamery was in critical need of some emergency clean-up. Two posts ago I wrote of a strange bluish tinge that had mysteriously colored a batch of chevre. Turns out that the cause was a bacteria that snuck into the creamery in a milk delivery from a local supplier. So, to avert any chance that the bacteria would invade further, Abbe called her colleague, Greg, a dairy consultant and specialist in sanitation and sterilization.
Greg arrived in the early afternoon and unloaded a few supplies from his truck as we prepared inside by removing all electronics and anything else sensitive to moisture from the make room, raw milk room, brining & packing room, and the main hallway. Anderson joined us, we readied our brushes, Greg fired up his state-of-the-art compressors, and around 2 pm, the fun began...
--and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. After we scoured each room from top to bottom, Anderson came through with a hose and rinsed and squeegeed the floor. We also scrubbed and sanitized the large milk cans used to transport small-source milk. There's something about the shape and shine of 'em that I just love:
See what I mean? Finally, after each room had been foamed, scrubbed, and rinsed, Greg came back through a second time and sprayed once more with a second solution meant to absorb and evaporate overnight.
So that's the harsh reality of sanitation in the cheesemaking business. If things start to go sour (literally), you have to take serious action immediately. Fun. Greg, by the way, was a very jovial guy, and also very knowledgeable about all things dairy-related. He was more than happy to answer my exhaustive list of questions.
Some time during all of the clean up, I called Gwen to set up a few more appointments for milking practice. She answered and told me immediately that she was in Michigan for a family emergency, and asked if Shelly and I would milk and take care of her animals the following morning. Were we ready? Did we really know what to do on the milking bench?
Time to find out!
TUESDAY:
We dropped Hart off at my sister-in-law Karynn's at 9 am and drove out to Gwen's farm in the opposite corner of town. To this point on the blog, I've simply called it "Gwen's farm," but the official name is Goat Creek Farm. Here's the list of chores that awaited us:
1. Feed the pigs their mixture of hog feed, oats and cracked corn.
2. Give Kenya, the Great Pyrenees herding dog, her bowl of kibble.
3. Milk the does in their self-determined order: Ginny (the queen of the herd), Jedda (her sister), Rose, Daisy. Shelly milked the first two nannies flawlessly; I did the second two pretty competently. The proof is in the milk (alas, not the pudding): we came home with two containers-full of clean milk--probably just under two gallons.
It's worth mentioning that while we milk the goats, a brilliant banana spider (a.k.a. garden spider) perches in the center of its web above the stanchion. Take a look:
For scale, compare its body to the 2x4's up above. Although it certainly freaks Shelly out, the goats don't seem to mind. The spider keeps the hundreds of flies that swarm around the shed away from their heads while they chomp on sweetfeed during milkings. Arachnids, I've realized, are important to a farm's ecosystem.
4. Muck the shed floor and surrounding area. Basically, this means that you have to scrape the poop, old hay, old sawdust, etc. off the floor and shovel it into a wheelbarrow. Gwen recycles it in her garden.
5. Put new sawdust down--especially on a hot and humid day like this one.
6. Check and fill water buckets.
7. Make sure the milking area is clean.
8. Give the animals a little extra attention. My favorite critter at Goat Creek is a doe named Gigi. She loves to chomp on noodles and, like most goats, she loves to have her chin scratched:
All in all, I'd say our first solo milking was a success. Gwen, thanks for trusting us and empowering us to take care of your amazing animals.
* * *
Later, after Hart's midday nap, we rewarded ourselves with a dip in my uncle's pool. It was a nice afternoon, and a good day overall.
WEDNESDAY:
A break from farming and cheesemaking mid-week to visit family. Shelly's mom lives about a one-and-a-half hour's drive northeast, in Madison, Ohio. After visiting with her, we stopped in Mentor to visit Shelly's aunt Dana, uncle George, and cousin Alissa. To pass the time while driving, we've been listening to The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, by Stieg Larsson. We just finished yesterday, and I highly recommend it if you're looking for an entertaining escape.
Speaking of finishing books, I also wrapped up Brad Kessler's Goat Song yesterday. Kessler's prose is fantastic, and the scope of the book is wide-ranging enough to appeal to anyone with a general interest in Western culture--not just those of us interning with goats. I haven't forgotten about my intention to post a little more about the Georgics, but I'm thinking that all of my literary musings might have to wait until I return to New York, when we're past the thick of all this summer farm fun...
THURSDAY (TODAY):
Today's education happens in the kitchen. While I type this (and while Hart naps), I can hear the whirr of the mixer in the background: Shelly's making fresh butter from the milk we brought home on Tuesday. Here she is, checking over the recipe from Culture while (wo)manning the KitchenAid:
Today's one of those schizophrenic weather days: rain, sun, clouds, sun, rain... so the perfect day for tinkering around in the kitchen. If there's enough milk (and time), we'll try out Kessler's cajeta recipe too. I may post again tomorrow with the details if it all turns out.
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