In the year of my 17th birthday in the early 60s, the winter started off pretty mild. It was a green Christmas that year. That all changed shortly after the new year when a cold front moved in. One Monday morning when dad and I entered the barn to start morning chores, we were dismayed to discover that a jersey heifer had gotten loose and had somehow opened the door to the silo room, allowing a cold draught to come in and freeze the two closest cast iron drinking cups, causing them to crack. We watered the affected cows with buckets and finished milking.
As soon Jerry's Farm Service opened up at 8:30, dad sent me the ten miles into town in the farm truck to get replacement drinking cups. Thankfully Jerry had just what we needed and we had everything fixed by lunch time. That day was another good reminder that sometimes you never knew what what to expect on a winter day on a family dairy farm in the 1950s.
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