The early part of my morning had already become a favorite part of my day. Catching the sunrise and maybe even the last stars, smelling the warm smell of cow and the sweet smell of warm milk, listening to the creamy streams singing into my bucket, and the low sounds of Posey munching grain.

We had an escalating battle of wills last week that resulted in a kicking battle, which I won, after a delightful time milking punctuated by dodging kicks and kicking Posey right back. The look of vague and unconcerned surprise on her face was deceptive, because the next morning she was a new animal. She has been an angel ever since.

And the kittens have learned to recognize the milk pail. I’m not sure there’s anything sweeter than Little Elsa with milk all over her face and paws.

Little, mundane moments truly are what make life so beautiful and pleasant.