The Milk Run
Tuesday, September 29, 2009 at 5:11PM Every other week, I pick up 20 gallons of fresh raw milk at a farm up in Ulster County, NY--10 gallons for us and 10 gallons for my friend Melissa and her family. (Melissa goes for us both on the weeks I don't.) It's a 90-minute round trip to and from Gardiner if the weather is nice. I think about a lot of stuff as I drive; here's a little sampling of today's run.
8:45 Fueling up in Cold Spring. Anne is in her car seat playing happily with her baby doll. I love free Full Service, which means I don't have to get gas all over my hands; I love our little village.
8:47 Music or not? My options are many: XM Vinyl or Rewind or Spectrum or Classical or Public Radio or Bluesville or Quoi de Neuf; Vaughan Williams or Les Choristes or Pride & Prejudice or an iPod mix on CD; or silence.
I choose to be alone with my thoughts; I can't mull over plot problems or character issues with music on.
8:58 I reach the outskirts of Beacon, the site of my first and only speeding ticket, earned about two years ago. I experience a frisson of PTSD and make sure I'm driving 30 mph.
9:01 Oh, how I adore the ever-changing sign in front of the Beacon Reformed Church. There must be a book or a website where pastors get those pithy little witticisms. Today's reads, "Try God's economic plan: store your wealth in Heaven." Excellent. It's almost as good as my all time favorite, "This church is prayer conditioned."
9:07 As I take the exit for Route 32 off of I-84, I realize that Jacques expected me to go another way. He's now busy recalculating as he sits on his little beanbag.
Jacques is our new TomTom GPS, just like the one the French family lent us on our vacation. I have the voice set to the French male option, hence "Jacques."
But what can Jacques be thinking? I've been making the milk run for almost eight years; I'm pretty sure I've figured out the fastest, most direct way to and from the farm. Does he think Route 300 would be faster? If so, mon ami, you've got some learning to do.
Can Jacques learn? Somehow I doubt it, and anyway, all the Asimov I've read makes me think that I probably don't want my GPS to have that skill set.
9:10 I hate strip malls. Fortunately, Newburgh's only go on in this direction for a couple of miles.
9:12 A sign informs me that eggs are 99 cents per dozen at the Arnold bread outlet. I am reminded of my favorite quote from the fantastic movie Food Inc.: "You insist on two-dollar-a-gallon milk, you're gonna end up with a feedlot in your backyard." I wonder how many of my friends would see Food Inc. if I begged them. Maybe it will be on DVD by Christmas, and I can give it as a gift.
But maybe it's an annoying, preachy-type gift. I imagine one of my friends giving me a book by a noted Republican, hoping I would read it, see the light, and convert. And how awkward would it be when that just didn't happen? Hmmm. So, even though it's a non-partisan movie, maybe ix-nay on the ood-Fay DVD as a gift idea.
9:15 Jacques has finally given up on trying to get me to make a legal U-turn. Hah, yes: see, Jacques? You finally realize that Route 32 will cut a good 10 minutes off your projected travel time.
9:21 Passing the Cherry On Top ice cream stand; their sign announces that there are only 15 days of ice cream left. I love the theory of Cherry On Top, but they don't make their own ice cream anymore--they sell some down-market regional brand like Hershey's or Blue Bunny.
I think about my friend Lynn Miller in Cold Spring and her fledgling business, Go-Go Pops. She and her family have been selling these mouth-watering, homemade popsicles at the Cold Spring Farmer's Market all season. They're now trying to open a coffee-popsicle shop on Main Street. I hope she can make it happen! I need to start doing Jen's Local Love Fridays so that I can write a post about Lynn.
9:28 Passing the Maplestone Bed & Breakfast. SO gorgeous; I'm sad I couldn't convince my sister Angie and her husband Dave to buy this place a couple of years ago, but I love how the new owners have fixed up the farmhouse and kept the well out front. Must figure out a way to schedule a little getaway there with Patrick. Maybe sometime soon, before all the apples and leaves are gone....
9:30 Turning onto the treacherous, pot-holed driveway at Everett's farm. Everett, a cranky old Libertarian whose family has owned this land for over 200 years, comes out the sliding glass door of his house as I park by the milk shed. "Not many eggs," he hollers. "Weasel got in the barn the other night and killed most of the chickens! I gotta start all over."
I give him my sympathies and he goes back inside. Ramon and Marcello, Everett's farmhands, are nowhere in sight. I take the empty milk pails out of the car. I put the eggs that are in the egg basket into cartons and put them in the car. I put our cash in the lockbox in the fridge. Still no Ramon and Marcello. I sigh.
A full pail of milk weighs over 100 pounds. I can carry them and lift them into our Honda Pilot myself--heck, I've done it all the way through two pregnancies--but it's not my favorite way to work out. Ramon and Marcello are always happy to load the milk for me if they're around, but they must be even busier than usual, since I haven't seen either of them in weeks.
Oh, well. I load up two pails in the back, secure them with bungee cords, and get back on the road. Thank heaven for that plastic cargo bed liner that came with the car. We've never had a big spill, but the liner gives me a little peace of mind.
9:38 Driving back, I mull over how lucky I am to have access to fresh, affordable, chemical- and hormone-free milk from cows who serenely amble about in the green grass and sunshine. It's not certified organic milk; there's no way Everett would invite interaction with any level of the guv'mint. But I know these cows. I've looked them in the eye and patted their flanks during milking time. I've hauled their manure home for my compost pile. I know how obsessive Ramon is about keeping the milking equipment clean. I trust the cows and their keepers.
In New York, it's legal to buy milk at the farm. Connecticut and California allow you to buy raw milk in stores, but in a lot of states, raw milk is illegal. And that's a shame, since raw milk is far more delicious and nutritious than pasteurized. Speaking of which, the same technology that makes pasteurization possible makes it easy to get clean, safe, raw milk. I'll get off the soap box, but read here to learn more.
9:46 The Shawangunks are gorgeous today, their limestone cliffs gleaming white against the crystal blue sky. I love how fall takes its sweet time; a few trees here and there are already aflame, but most are still green. All the apple trees are loaded down, reminding me of my favorite Christmas carol.
My friend Tina and I get to sing that with a couple of other women in a few weeks; can't wait!
I wonder whether I can find a day to go up to Greig Farm and pick raspberries with Tina in the next few days. We had such a blast last year. I only have one jar of last year's freezer jam left, and I can't imagine doing without.
9:48 I also need to find time to stop and check out the Modena Rural Cemetery. I do love me a good graveyard.
9:51 Passing Cherry On Top again. The only things one can get in parlors any more are ice cream, tattoos, funerals, and massages. Fascinating.
10:02 Anne is getting fussy; she knows it's almost naptime. "Little Baby An-a-kin," I sing in my best faux-opera trill. She laughs, so I do it again. And again. And again.
I wonder whether Anne will spend any time in therapy someday over the fact that she is nicknamed for a Jedi who goes very wrong. Though it all comes right for Darth in the end, so maybe she'll be fine.
10:09 According to signage in many Beacon front yards, a person named Chris Bopp is running for City Council. I realize how very long it has been since I had any decent Bi Bim Bap. Must research a good Korean restaurant for an upcoming Date Night. I start singing "Blitzkrieg Bop" to entertain Anne. I can see her in my mirror; she's rocking right along with me, though I can see she's beginning to droop.
10:15 I'm home just in time; even my energetic covers of The Ramones can't keep Anne awake. She's just about gone. I'll put her in bed, decant the milk, and get on with the rest of the day.
Deep Thoughts
Reader Comments (26)
First of all, I love this. All of it.
I envy that place that you live in. I love all your comments along the way. I feel like I've glimpsed real-life Luisa, and I adore her.
For instance, you drive a Pilot. I didn't know. Also, you can heft heavy stuff. Plus, you have a TomTom named Jaques. I have a Garmin named Barbara (though you have to say it like, "Bwar-bruh") (or you can do what Nathan does and call her Recalcu-lady).
Also, I'm dying over the comment about someone giving you a Republican book hoping that you'll see the light. I swear that's what half of my facebook friends do to me on a daily basis ("maybe if I bash on Obama and quote Fox News, she'll finally see the light and convert!") Yeah, no. Not gonna happen. WILL make me roll my eyes, though, and maybe my eyes need the exercise, so... thanks?
My family has always called me Anniekinz. Nowadays everyone thinks it's "Anakin" but since my family is so NOT Star Wars savvy, it's actually just a combination of the sounds in my first and middle names. Still, I love that you call Baby Anne "Anakin" -- one more thing I feel I have (almost) in common with your sweet little angel. Say... when do I get to meet her???
Okay, I could go on and on (clearly) but I won't. Instead, once again I must tell you how delightful this post was for me. xoxoxox
What a great post idea! I loved being able to picture many of these roads and sights. You do live in one of the most beautiful places ever created, and it is perfect in so many ways. The first time I met Melissa was when she dropped off the milk at your house and the two of you divided it up there in the driveway.
I'm so glad you include links to everything. It gives me much to peruse at my pleasure. I bookmarked away.
45 minutes to go get milk? holy cow, that's a long drive for milk. I see your point for providing your family with fresh untreated milk but isn't there healthy cows closer by where you live? I'm sure it's not always going to be nice lovely weather to make that drive? ...then of course it's only once every 2 weeks.
I'm amazed that raw milk is forbidden. Why?
Reminds me that I always get frightened shocked reactions when I tell some my Canadian friends that we love raw minced meat on our sandwich :-).....mixed with herbs and some sauce makes an extremely popular sandwich spread in Belgium ....and no I can confirm that we are still not dropped dead by it.
In Belgium there's very little pasteurized milk for sale...we get our milk in tetra packs and it's preserved by a UHT method. Nobody in Canada believes me either that we also buy our milk in bulk and can leave it in the basement for weeks and weeks. i'm used to it and love this type of milk....but yeah, won't be able to beat fresh milk in the slightest bit.
what did you think about the milk in France? I'm quite certain they massively use UHT as well.
Sigh . . .wish I were there with you, almost feel like I was. I love that carol, too, but not enough to ever investigate and learn the name. I will surely pay more attention this Christmas season. You have such a fascinating life!
This sounds so idyllic. This is also the second reference in two days I've heard to Food, Inc. so I think I need to check it out. Sometimes I feel like a horrible person because I avoid learning the truth about things so that my life isn't disrupted. I'm the type of person that once I KNOW, I can't just carry on as usual. I have to make CHANGES. And they're not always convenient. The idea of driving so far to get milk boggles my mind but it's probably because Orange County is one giant strip mall and it's not terribly motivating to be out and about. However, that doesn't excuse buying regular milk over organic at the store just because the extra $2 nearly kills me. I can easily afford it, but I'm obviously not convinced it's worth it. I need to educate myself and be more responsible to my family. I wish I didn't feel a soul deep sigh as I say that.
Lovely post. It's great that you have access to raw milk and fresh eggs.
I've taken to listening to books on CD during my commute from Idaho Falls to Pocatello (often the only discretionary "reading" time I get these days), but sometimes I just need the quiet and to be with my own thoughts. The fact that you chose silence as your partner today speaks volumes, I think, about your character: that you feel comfy enough in your own head suggests to me that you're a decent enough person whose thoughts are worth conversing with. And your interaction with the landscape you're passing through also tells me you're conscious of your connection to it, even that you care for it and feel some responsibilty for its future.
Of course, there seems to be much more to interact with on your drive than there is on mine. The past couple of weeks all I've had is dust and farm equipment throwing dust. And a whole load of sage brush to break up (or add to) the monotony.
Anyway. Great post. I enjoyed taking the journey with you and your (social) consciousness.
I love your posts. They're so very relaxing. I always feel so alive after reading them--like a rain has washed through me and left me clean. It's lovely.
I love fresh, organic, hormone-free milk too. I have mine delivered to me (thank the gods above who designed this system!) and even though it's more pricey than I can buy at the store, you can beat the taste. Plus, with my lil' dudes, heathier foods really do make a difference in behavior.
I'll have to check out this FoodInc. Although, sadly, I doubt I'll ever be the culinary genius you are.
What a nifty narrative! I absolutely loved accompanying you both on your journey, thanks for taking us along. My husband and I had wonderful pipimbab just this past Friday night for dinner (I was a missionary in Korea); its a delicious dish that is done well in our nearby Irvine Korean community's restaurants. You made me want it all over again.
Our GPS is named GiGi, and she doesn't always know the best way either.
We just drove up 208 to bike in New Palz a week ago. Lovely ride, and your post makes it SO easy to visualize again.
Thought of you while eating at Whistling Willie's on Saturday, after visiting & hiking Constitution Island.
Sorry to hear of the death of William Safire (Billy to you). I'll read his Republican books...
I like the Apple Tree carol; wish I could work it into a Sacrament meeting.
Your post made me terribly nostalgic today. My best friend lived on a dairy farm and I spent many, many happy hours there, playing in haystacks, helping with the daily milkings, and even cleaning a bit. My mother bought fresh raw milk from the farm on a weekly basis. My favorite part about the milk was when the cream would rise to the top, we would skim it and then use it for fresh peaches or some other delectable treats.
I'm curious if the farm would allow visitors to watch the actual milking process? I feel my children are so sheltered from life on farms and ranches and I would love to show them how a cow is actually milked.
And before I forget, is your homemade yogurt recipe in your cookbook? If not, would you please share it?
TIffany, all I do for yogurt is add 6 ounces of plain yogurt to 1 liter of room temperature milk (I know; the mixed measurements are weird). I stir it well, then leave it at 100 degrees for about 12 hours.
Everett doesn't love strangers, but is welcoming of visitors if they are accompanied by people he knows and trusts. Maybe on a vacation day we could go up there early together; Ramon does the morning milking at about 8:30.
Jeff, I have been lamenting the loss of Billy since I heard the news.
What a lovely post.
I felt like I was reading something our of a Laurel Ulrich book.
How did you muse and drive -- tape recorder?
When are you singing the Apple Tree Carol? That was one of the things I was reminiscing about the other night. It's a joy to sing with you and Tina.
It's amazing how how many of your thoughts are exactly mine as I make the drive--full service gas station, speed limit (my own brush with the Beacon Police is still very fresh in my mind), church sign. It's all there. The only difference is that I spend another fifteen minutes reminding myself to pick up the milk cans at your house. Clearly, I need to work on that. Your house comes and goes so quickly.
And, as often as I've done the run, and as time consuming as it is, I still love the drive.
The milk run with Luisa as tour guide was just as fresh, startling, and charming as France with Luisa as tour guide. Thanks for another great "staycation"!
Hey Louisa,
I love cemetaries as well! Didn't know you felt that way about marble orchards!
Deb
I devoured this post as though it were a long-awaited novel by my favorite author.
Thank you for taking us with you on your errand.
Your drive and "neck o' the woods" sounds beautiful. I've always wanted to raise my family in an area like that. Sigh.
Thank you, again, Luisa.
I feel like I came along with you on that drive and that we chatted away the entire time. What a lovely insight into your lovely self!
What a sweet post! Wow, I see what you mean about having options and being able to make the best of them. What a joy to buy milk right from the farm, to touch the animals who make your milk!
LOVE this piece. I believe raw milk is illegal to *sell* in MI, but there's definitely a large movement here. And you're so right about those farmers who won't deal with the "certified organic" label, but use the right practices anyway. I'd much rather know my farmers and where my food is produced than have someone tell me it's "organic". This sounds like a mostly delightful drive. It was fun to see your train of thoughts!
I just loved this post. I found your blog while searching for "raw milk in Ulster county". I felt as if I was traveling down Rt. 32 and observing the scenery right along with you. I've been trying to find a source of raw milk in the area for some time now. I've been getting it from a farm in Washingtonville, but would love to find a place closer to home. I live about 2 miles from the Maplestone Bed and Breakfast, but have never seen Everett's farm. What street is he on in Gardiner? I would love to give it a try.
I can't wait to try your nutella scones! They sound delicious.
Sophia, Everett is on Dubois. He's a little quirky about "strangers" and usually likes to be introduced to new customers. Email me and let's see what we can work out. Thanks for stopping by, and enjoy the scones!
I would love it if we could work something out. Perhaps I could meet you on your next trip. I couldn't find your email address anywhere, but if you could email me at soso4@optonline.net, I would surely appreciate it.