One udder, two udders, does not matter if you stutter, sweetly singing as wind whistles through barn door shudders, flip flap, opening closing flying open and then shut, flowing with the waves of the wispy wind.
Cows alert, standing on two and then four legs, shifting from leg to leg, tails like orchestra conductors' wands swinging to and fro, tails hitting barn flies as they try to land on the cow's legs and bite their skin. Whip and smash! A dead fly to fall deader than a Dandelion after weeded.
Udders of the female sweet and gentle cow to be full and flowing with the pureness of a Mother's milk. To be a farmer and to touch these soft udders with your palms and fingers, to pull gently as you squeeze the milk out of its nipples, to make a sound like a squirt gun as it fills up a metal pail, a sound like a tin man squeaking his joints, like silver coins falling into a cup, not the cup of a beggar, a farmer who pays all his bills and is not in debt, not in the red, but instead steadily employed in his own business, not bankrupt.
No mortgages to pay, a farm house humble and a farm barn to be re-painted, a white picket fence around the yard of the bull, a bull not angry, not a warrior bullfight, instead a sated bull to impregnate his cows, small youngsters to be born, more and more milk to flow, more pails to fill, more cups.
More milk, less thirst, not water, not waste material, milk is like the sweetness of milk chocolate, milk to fill the tummies of the calves when they are born. Milk to fill our tummies, the tummies of the farmers and their families.
To be a proud farmer, to donate ten per cent of the produce of their fields to the poor. A farmer not poor and his family not poor, instead flowing in a river of this sweet cow's milk, and udders producing more and more milk.
Cottage cheese being created, a rock on top to strain the cottage cheese milk through a cheesecloth to become cheese, a mouthful of preciousness, dry cottage cheese sprinkled on top of fruit dumplings! Fruit dumplings: cheese, prune, cherry, strawberry, blueberry, you name it, it has been cooked. A sure wonderful mouthful of a treat that is a meal and a dessert all in one serving.
To lick the tips of your fingers of drips of this milk, the English word "milk" in the language of Czeskia is "mlako". Delicious MLAKO to digest! Not hungering not thirsting.
Cows who lick salt blocks, getting thirsty with the salt on their lips and inside their mouths, salt blocks persuading cows to drink more water. More water and then producing more milk. A cow who is prosperous. She is a pet in a farmer's family.
White, sweet, clean, scrumptious cow's milk. More! And more! And more!
And they all lived happily ever after.
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