Monday, May 10, 2010

Milk Maid

A few weekends ago I went on a little getaway to Full House Farms in Sebastapol. Driving into the town Adam and I had to laugh at what an active (drugged) little town Sebastapol is. For miles down the main drag Lifetime Movie esq wooden billboards announced the towns plethora of community events; the fire fighters' pancake breakfast, the bowling leagues' square dance, the girl scouts' bake sale, the apple festival raffle, etc. Equally hilarious and disturbing, the quaint town couldn't have been more contrary to the real deal of a farm house that lay before us.



Full House Farm produces goat dairy products, runs an extensive horse program, has spectacular fruit and vegetable gardens, and as if that weren't enough, built two rental properties for us city folk to enjoy. The adorable two person cottage not only has amazing views and a nice hot tub it also comes with eggs from the farms' chickens, local bread, wine, and the privilege to harvest fruits and vegetables from their gardens.



It's nuts. Christine Cole, the woman who runs the farm, is a total bad ass. She's happy to either have no interaction with her guests or to give them a complete tour of the gardens and the animals. We of course choose the later. We met the chickens, horses, hounds, and my personal favorite the GOATS!







At the end of the tour Christine offered to let us try our hand at milking. After showing us the drill, she warned us that milking is an acquired skill and that we shouldn't feel badly if we only get a drop or two because many most first timers walk away zilch.



Two cups of fresh goat milk later, I was officially pronounced a goat milking machine! I'll chalk it up to my German heritage but also admit that Willow and I did have a special connection so that might have had something to do with it.