The Skinny Cows and the Fat Cows
The Skinny Cows and the Fat Cows Carol A. Brown W hen I was about 10 years old, I would spend several weeks each summer on my grandmother’s farm. I remember telling her, “When I grow up, I want to be a farmer, or maybe a farmer’s wife. Grandmother surprised me with a reply, “Well it’s very hard work. I’m not sure you would really like it.” Then she picked up her milk pail and trudged back to the house. Grandmother milked their cow twice each day, 7 days each week, 365 days a year. This was her routine until her sons were able to pitch in with chores. She also worked her garden in season, kept house and cared for her children. Both she and Granddad worked hard at the textile mill in town along with running a farm. Even during the dark days of the Depression era, my grandparents kept their family well fed, safe, and protected on the farm. The family always had a cow, or as they called her, the milk cow. The cows were Jersey breed with rusty red coat, a white f