Dear Dairy

I can’t stop thinking about the bull, and what he does when he’s put in with a heifer.

Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

Monday

I went into the milking shed again and watched him work. This time I wore a shorter skirt to show off my calves, and I stood so close to him his hair nearly brushed my bodice when he straightened up. He’s still ignoring me.

Tuesday

While I was filling a pail at the pump, I splashed my skirt so it clung to my legs, then I went to the milking shed again. I know he looked at me this time.

I think he did.

Wednesday

I undid the top two buttons of my bodice before I went into the shed. I asked him if I could try milking Daisy. I thought if I sat with my knees apart my skirt would ride up, and maybe he’d notice my thighs, or perhaps he’d stand over me and look down my bodice. But he said no, I couldn’t milk her, I’m too clumsy, I couldn’t draw water without getting soaked.

He’s right. I even get wet when I watch him draw milk.

Thursday

He touched me!

I asked him again if I could try milking Daisy. I said I’m not clumsy, it was one of the pigs that knocked the pail over, that’s why my skirt was wet. I don’t think he believed me…