In Alaska there is a common attitude of do it yourself. The folks who are living their dreams have learned to do alot of different things on their own. Jack of all trades, master of few is commonplace here.
So when the shit hits the fan, you just suck up and deal... let the cards fall where they will. Yeah, you guessed it. I'm home alone again, and things aren't quite working like they're designed to. It goes with the territory for sure.
Yesterday morning the milker had poor suction. So I struggled through the session, and then brought the machine indoors where I could thaw it out and work on it. It turns out that the balance tank had ice in it. But I'm afraid that in remedying that problem, some water might have gone into the motor.
When I asked it start for last night's milking, it wouldn't turn over. Water at zero degrees turns to ice. Bad news. So I hand milked. Thirteen goats on the stand last night. It took about an hour and a half.
The lemons into lemonade theory is in effect. When hand milking, it's very easy to measure the production of each doe into a snapshot of how the herd is doing overall. And of course you get to see how each doe is producing... which is very exciting when you have so many first time fresheners.
Tuffy and Zoey are kicking ass. Guava is drying off. Pleasant is matching Farlight. Licorice is far off the charts. Cool stuff. I love it. Oh- and Fling, the wild and crazy one who has been the most difficult goat to catch ever... came into the milkhouse on her own last night. Frosting on the cake, yeah.
So I brought the machine indoors again last night. Hopefully it's thawed enough to start this morning. Make a wish it does. Please.