Hay, New Zealand, & Cows

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Oy vei, i have proven once again that i don't need alcohol to get myself into a load of trouble.

We had a BBQ tonight. The players were:
Host mother & father
Fellow firefighter Andy
Andy's girlfriend Brenda, English speaker
Other Andy, Host father's brother-in-law

Fire Andy is apparently very big in the Aargau Fire Dept. He is Lead Hay Watcher. He leads a team of experts in making sure the hay doesn't burn.

Brenda works on farms, mostly with large machinery. She has finagled her way to the U.S., Australia, and New Zealand...and next Argentina, with her mad farming skills. Sweet kind of life if you ask me. Never stays in SWI for more than a year. Rather interested me that her boyfriend put up with her leaving last summer for 3 months.

So sometime around 11, the idea came up that I should go work on Fire Andy's farm at 6 AM. A joke surely. Then again, and around 11:34, I made the fatal move of nodding "ja" when Host Father asked if I would go milk cows at 5. Apparently this was a very amusing topic that Host Father returned to every 10 min for teh next 2 hours. "Anne go milking cow at 5 in dee morning." So now I am milking cows in 3 short hours. woowee. Not a problem at all, actually, except the stupid left hand i sprained when i fell hiking in the rainy alps on tuesday hasnt really fully recovered and milking 200 liters of milk out of cows doesnt seem like gentle physical therapy. but who knows, the cows may just do wonders for it. whatever happens, i am sure 5 AM is going to be Hell and 9 AM is going to be Heaven.

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