About The Milk House

A little bit about me and this blog:

I grew up on a larger grain farm in Northern Indiana, the oldest daughter of parents both raised on the farm.  I married a dairy farmer's oldest son.  I didn't grow up with animals other than those we had for 4-H projects, and definitely NOT dairy cows.  I quickly learned the daily routine, the lack of vacation (cows have to be milked twice a day, every.single.day), the hard work, the fact that something will die when my in-laws leave us here to do chores for a weekend, a pipe will freeze and have to be dug out of cement on Christmas day before opening presents and making breakfast; my husband will NEVER be on time because something will happen during chores.  Farm life can be a total pain in the back side.  It can also be handy when you want leave an event you don't want to be but have to make an appearance,.  NOT that we've ever done that of course…. (cough-cough)  But in all honesty, there is no other way I'd rather raise my kids.

A little room off the milking parlor, the milk house is where all the fruits of the cows' and farmer's labor are stored.  It's the first stop at the beginning of the day and the last stop at the end of the day.  The milk house is a place where we complain about everything the day's events are discussed and the world's problems are solved.  Discussion is candid and language often raw.  Dreams are discussed; disagreements are hashed; jokes told;  plans for the future are made. All proper grammar rules go out the window.  Memories of the time we've spent in the milk house as a family are numerous and near and dear to my heart.

This blog is a like that little room off the south side of the barn.  It's a random sampling of the chaos that make up our life.  Whether that be farming related, my boy's shenanigans, basketball/sports related, crafty things I've put together, or fitness and health related, I promise it will be real.  It will be random.  It will be funny.  It will be disappointment.  It will be like standing in the milk house door for an hour after chores talking about the day. Kick back.  Stay a little while.  Enjoy the chaos that is our life.