Nov 4, 2013 3 min read

My husband and I have talked a number of times about how convenient it would be to have a milk cow or two here that would provide milk for our children to drink, to make cheese with and to derive the satisfaction of being that much closer to self-sufficiency.

Well, mostly I’ve talked about it and my husband, who wants nothing to do with milking cows, has tried to talk me out of it.

The plan has always hit a snag when my husband asks who will be milking said cow.

“I will milk the cow, I promise,” I always say.

“I believe you will,” he constantly replies, “from April until November. But who will milk the cow in the winter? When it is cold? And icy? And the cow still needs milked?”

Drat. Foiled by my husband’s knowledge of how much I hate the cold. I can’t even pretend to like it. There is just something about this time of year that makes me want to burrow into a den somewhere and sleep until spring.

I could totally rock the hibernation thing, including the weight that critters put on to make sure they live until food is available again.

And while I’m fantasizing, waiting until the spring thaw to clean out the burrow also sounds nice.

If the truth be told, I hate the cold enough that I rarely even go outside to play with my kids in the snow if I can help it.

Every photo they have of themselves, building snowmen, sled riding and even having snowball fights will most likely be from the same angle – the one I can see from the window while I clutch my camera in one hand and a hot cocoa in the other.

It just seems to me that there is really little point in trying to accomplish any goals outside during this shortened-daylight period of the year. I mean, really, by the time you put on several layers of clothing followed by several layers of outerwear and gloves, you realize you have to pee.

Then, by the time you unbundle, use the bathroom and do it all again, the sun has already set and it is time to go back inside anyway. How long is the sun up for these days, 45 minutes?

I’ve been making a list of things I could accomplish indoors this winter, and if I follow that, I should remain well occupied and have a spruced-up home by spring. There are rooms that still need serious work in this old farmhouse, and some of the already remodeled ones need some minor attention again.

But other projects call to me (like scrapbooks and afghans that I started last winter), and I will probably attempt to finish some of those things, too. And long before the days warm up, I will be ready to cast off the indoors in favor of some outdoor projects that will let me smell fresh air and feel the sunlight.

About that time, I will begin dreaming of a milk cow again. My husband will patiently sigh at my assurances that next winter, I would actually venture out of doors if we had a cow. I wonder if you can rent one for the summer months only? Not if my husband can help it.

Laura Zoeller can be reached at zoeller5@hughes.net.