Working in the milking parlor everyday can be a bit of a hazard.
Standing at a lower level than the cows allows for all kinds of nasties to be splattered your way.
It’s not uncommon for my co-worker to holler, “Incoming!”
That’s like a code red for get out of the way, a cow is going to relieve herself in your area.
Most of the time the splattering isn’t all that grand. A healthy cow will leave a very well-laid-out pile.
Now, the sick cows leave a very chaotic pattern, probably because they have a very chaotic pattern going on in their tummies.
It’s not uncommon, as awful as it sounds, for manure to splatter onto a face, for example. It should also be noted that it doesn’t take long to learn to face away from the splatter, until you no longer here it splattering.
Wednesday morning the cows were a bit on edge. Hubby was at meetings, so we had a replacement milker for him by the name of Tarah.
She must smell better than Hubby, because the cows sure knew something was amiss in the milking parlor.
When something is amiss in the parlor, there is a heckuva lot more splattering.
It just so happened that Tarah was up in the holding area bringing cows into the milking parlor when the word “Incoming!” should have been shouted.
It landed in my eye.
Now, there was no burning sensation and it didn’t feel like anything from within the poo was scratching my eyeball, so I figured no harm done.
I continued, and finished the milking chores without a hitch.
I didn’t sleep worth a hoot Tuesday night. The first thing I did after milking this particular Wednesday was shower up and climb back into bed for a quick nap. (Quick turned into an hour and it still wasn’t even 11 a.m.)
I woke up feeling even more tired, made a pot of coffee and ventured into the biffy.
I peered into the mirror and was horrified.
My contaminated eye was redder than red can be. It doesn’t hurt.
It’s just red.
I may have to consider using goggles as a piece of safety equipment.