The rolling hills we call home were once dotted with dairy farms and holstein herds. They have mostly disappeared now, but are a very pertinent part of the past, so also, an investment in today. Years ago, local farmers depended on a workforce of high school kids to manpower their industry. As a teen, Keith would awaken in the wee hours of the morning to bring up cows for milking, feed calves and summer days were spent in fields of hay and silage. The labors of youth left happy memories of friends and their antics.
Marriage took Keith and I away from our hometown for a brief period of time, but a teaching job brought us back again. To fill in the financial gaps that occur for young couples, Keith returned to the hay fields and diary barn of a local farmer. We drove by the farm one Sunday evening after a day of sunshine and Keith noticed the cows had not been milked and the weekend crew was no where to be found. This lapse in routine spells disaster for production and the health of the cows. We turned around, went back, and I was introduced to the wide, wild world of holding pens and tractors.
From the start, I made it clear I wasn’t going near the business end of a cow, so I manned the grain and the gates. The feed bins were full, and the cows content. Things went smoothly, but the end of the milking process didn’t complete the work. Keith asked me to clean the milk room while he delivered hay to the pasture. I am one, mean, cleaning machine. Here was an opportunity to prove my worth as a country girl. He connected the sanitizer, water hoses and compressor, handed it to me and left. I began spraying the walls and stalls from ceiling to floor toward the drains. It seemed as though I was holding a mini fire hose and my arms began to cramp and tire. I thought I would rest a minute, so I bent and laid the nozzle down. Immediately the hose took a life of its own and went flying through the air. I ducked, hid and watched in chagrin as soap, water and manure rained down. I had no idea how Keith turned on the machines, so I could not turn them off, but I realized I could go to the point of origin at the wall and begin inching my way, step by step, to the the vicious spout and capture it.
Keith returned about the time I tackled my nemesis and witnessed a much bigger mess than he left, including a wife dripping in H2O and other stuff. He was shocked and I embarrassed, but soon we were both laughing at my pitiful predicament.
It was obvious I needed more knowledge than I had to competently be of help. I didn’t win Country Girl of the Year, that day. The next time I washed the barn, I turned on all the equipment myself. I also took a look at the holding pen when it wasn’t filled with cows, as I had previously stepped off of the edge of a concrete ramp and into a knee deep hole that filled my rubber boots with bovine waste matter. And! I made a mental map in the daylight so I could find my way in the dark.
How much better to get wisdom than gold, to get insight rather than silver! Proverbs 16:16
Knowledge is the most valuable thing you will ever acquire. Wisdom is knowledge at its best. Learning is always time well spent, so relax and rejoice in the growing process, even when it stinks.
Celebrating Cleanliness and Lessons Learned,
Gretchen