“Do you know what time it is?” I ask Roger one day while we are switching a full hay wagon for an empty one during a break picking up bales. I have the tongue of
“We’ve gotta have a system” Ike says with unusual vigor and exasperation. It is the middle of winter and we are in the middle of the barn in the middle of morning chores doing a
“One of us is tired this morning, but one of us is really tired,” I say to Roger as I walk into the milk barn at dawn. I find him standing in the manger leaning
Roger Bromley is a dairy farmer, been so all his life. Roger’s father, Hugh, is a dairy farmer, been so all his life. They farm together, done so all of Roger’s life. Roger’s grandfather, Delos,
Grass–growing grass, drying grass, baled grass, chopped grass–is the engine that powers the Bromley farm. A cow turns grass into milk and manure. A framer turns milk into money and turns manure into fertilizer to
“So is this what it was like when I first started coming here?” Roger straightens up between the two cows he is milking, pushes his cap back and starts to slowly shake his head. His
“Hi. This is Roger,” a voice squeaks through my phone, “What’cha do’in?” “Ahh, nothing, “ I say suspiciously, knowing that I often am but he seldom is, especially at this time of night when there
“Good morning, sir” I say as cheerfully as I can this early in the morning to the old man in front of me. We are standing in the cow barn, in the cross aisle that
1 SEPTEMBER 05 “Hugh, I bought a new pair of farm boots today.” “Oh, yeah, Whadcha get?” “Oh, just a pair of rubber boots – barn boots – for mucking and the mud.” “Like these?”
“Why don’t you come on over? It is something you have never seen…it’ll be interesting.” This is Roger-code for: a cow has done something really stupid and you’re not going to believe it unless you
