When I was small my Dad used to squeeze my upper arms between his thumb and his forefinger and chant.. “and the muscles on her scrahwny arms stoock oot like spiders knees”. Always in a broad and deeply pretend Scottish accent. I would scream with laughter and wriggle away, long sunburnt arms pumping my skinny self along the beach. My spaghetti thin bendy legs flying up behind me. When I was little I knew I could fly actually I am sure I still could, I just choose not to right now, thank you very much. I am practicing being grounded. 
Anyway back to my Dairy Maids arms. Yesterday at the feed store the woman at the check out asked if I needed help picking up a mineral block. I picked it up and smiled thank you, but I am a lot stronger than I look. She was gracious but disbelieving. I am not brawny much to my despair. But I am fast developing milkmaids arms.
Here is why. Every feed bag of oats weighs 50 pounds. Every bale of hay weighs between 60 and 70 pounds -some are heavier) Every morning I carry three buckets of water over to the barn from the house for the milking. Full, big buckets about 4 gallons of water in each. And we all know now that there is 8 pounds in a gallon. There is no running water in the barn remember.
After the milking I lift the milk bucket which has between 40 and 50 pounds of milk in it. (Imagine how much Daisy would give if she had four healthy quarters!) I then carefully divide this milk into six containers. One for Sheila and Poppy, one for the plonkers, one for the chickens, one for the peacocks, one for the cats and dogs, one for the bobby, one for the old dog and one for the house. Holding that amount of milk up and pouring carefully into containers works the muscles very well.
Then the water is used to clean the milking hoses and bucket. First clean water is pumped through, then an acid is added to the next bucket and pumped through, then a clorine solution to sterilise it all again ready for the next milking. Between each of these required washes I tighten the lid and bending my knees I pick up the milking bucket and shake it up and down to make absolutely sure both the bucket and the hose and the cups are cleared of any old milk.
(Look above: see how Daisy’s ear is close to her milking bells – top screen left – I ring these bells and open the gate when it is time for her to come in to be milked. If I take too long rinsing and cleaning before the milking she rings the bells with her ear! With HER EAR! Banging the bells with her ear saying ‘Come On, get a wriggle on!’. That cow is such a cow!
Anyway, that done I add the old rinse water to the pigs milk.
Then I carry each of these buckets to their recipients. The Bobby is now drinking out of a small bucket and Marcel is weaned (though sticks his wooyl head in the Bobby’s bucket of milk anyway) so there is no need to fill bottles as well now.
For the next few days I am doing this entire workout three times a day, usually twice a day.
Later I carry buckets of water to anyone in a pen. After dragging hoses about to fill the big troughs (from my one outside tap) .
Yesterday I collected a full 5 gallon bucket of restaurant scraps. It was so heavy I could hardly get it high enough to swing it into the boot of the cooking oil car. Full of twice baked potatoes and noodles and cake. (No wonder Sheila has trouble with her weight). That will keep Poppy and Sheila going for few days.
You see what I mean? I like my milk maids arms.
And in the not so distant future I will be hauling two chicken tractors down the fields three times a day! No need for a gym membershop round here!
What shoe size is your pig?
Good morning. I hope you have a lovely day.
The kitchen pig! I am training her to stay on her cushion instead of standing in the middle of the kitchen moving to and from as I move to and fro. She is getting it too. Good little piggie.
I hope you have a lovely day.
Your friend on the farmy
celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
47 responses to “Dairy-maid’s Arms”
Reckon I should come and get some arm training in on the farmy C – I need it!
Your first pic is absolutely adorable! Kitty is not too happy that piggy has a nice comfy warm spot inside. Jealousy.
have a wonderful week ahead.
🙂 Mandy xo
i need a membership to the farmy gym too! i’ve been carrying big heavy planters and i can feel how out of shape i am after this winter.
I hear you sister! Stone mason arms are big too… Been tossing around 75lb bags of mortar like pillows this week and feeling great about it. Eating like a horse, too. The only dietary worry in this work is whether I can eat enough to keep going (and then learning to stop in the off season when I don’t have such hungry muscles!). Keep up the good work!
I have plump arms that can’t lift pussy! Haiga on the way on that first picture! Enjoy your day. We’re going to a concert tonight given by my friend’s French choir, Villebeauson, augmented by a visiting British choir, so the concert is called Frangles.
Timatanga and Marmie are enshrined in a new haiga on my blog http://vivinfrance.wordpress.com/2014/04/13/kunekune-haiga/ A bit of artist’s licence in the wording!
I think we need to petition John to lay a water pipe to the barn! Up until the time you wrote about moving the chicken tractors I was still thinking you would need a gym membership for a bit of treadmill/spinning training 🙂 Laugh. Your cat is totally shocked at Tima on a cushion in the kitchen 🙂 Daisy ringing her bell reminds me of the horses that all bang their stable doors with front hoof at feeding time, you can’t hear yourself think! I’m going to have to walk up my flight of stairs at least 10 extra times a day (sigh). Laura
Best gym ever, sign me up!
Hi Celia
I love how your posts arrive on my iPad at the start of my first break on graveyard shift at the bakery. It’s a little artisan bakery in about an hour north of Auckland. I’m quite new to this volume of baking – 20kg flour sacks, liters of water, and dough …. soft floppy 15 kg doughs to wrestle out of the mixer and onto the bench to form, proof, bake and pack. I too am learning of muscles I had long forgotten the use of. I have been at the baking for about three months now and the results on the physique are seriously better than any gym membership. And what really rocks? They pay me! Yup money for getting fit and doing what I love – I am right along side with you there.
I love reading about your four legged family, makes me think its time I put in some effort with my own little farm blog.
You are an inspiration lady. Thank you.
I am laughing at your muscles like spiders knees. Jack always said I had muscles like sparrows kneecaps! Like you, I have no time for going to a gym, but prefer to work out at home to music with a good beat. Household chores are all done in half the time with good music.
……Cecilia, my apologies, I was raised to make sure you have a person’s name right.
Good lord. Soon you’ll be saving on air fares. No need for tickets when you flap your way to New Zealand.
I know what you mean about dragging hoses around Celi, as we, too, have only one outside source of water for the farm. But I’m thankful for that source, especially after having to pack water from the house to all the animals this frozen winter. That little Tima is growing like crazy already!!! xo
Good golly!!! I need a nap. Whew. Love the kitchen pig picture. She has a very good trainer.
I know just what you mean – and after a looooooong cold winter my muscles are reminding me they have been on holiday for quite a while. I have old red brick paths every where, which are really nice and rustic – until they are home to growing more dandelion plants then I can count. So yesterday armed with spray bottle of white vinegar I crouched and sprayed, crouched and sprayed, crouched…. you get the picture! Did this for over two hours! This morning my hands are stiff and my knees are too LOL. Who needs a gym?
Hugs, Lyn
Marmalade wants in….wants in now! 🙂 Great images today, as usual. Make sure you are eating enough. That is a lot of expended energy!
I’m in love with your kitchen pig 🙂
In my late teens and early twenties, I had kennel maid’s arms. This enabled me to beat men at arm-wrestling in the pub, which earned a pint of beer a time. This was just as well, as on kennel maid’s pay, I couldn’t afford to buy my own pint!