I’m officially a dairy farm worker now, folks! We’ll see how this turns out for me after the next 3 months.

The job provides accommodation on the farm, which is nice so I don’t have to look for anything myself, and it’s cheaper than anything I would be able to find.

The house is pretty bare bones, having just the essentials and nothing more. There’s no central heating, and only enough space heaters to heat the common area, so my room is an ice box. I came prepared through with a sleeping back suitable for 20 degree weather, so I just zip myself into that each night and sleep fine.

The house also has its fair share of unwanted guests in the form of a lurking daddy long legs in the corner of my room, and his four closest friends that like to watch me shower. I feel like this is providing me with some sort of immersion therapy that will hopefully get me over my paralyzing fear of many-legged creatures. Let’s hope they keep their distance, though.

Like the grown up child that I am, I bought myself a cute polar bear nightlight for the room to dress it up a bit. I’ve never been a fan of a fully dark space, much less one with surprise insect friends that could be lurking in any corner. There’s only one outlet in my room that I need to charge my phone, so the polar bear was the perfect solution that doesn’t have to be plugged into the wall to work.

Unfortunately, that first night with my polar bear, a moth found its way inside my room as well, deciding it was also a fan of the light up bear. I was woken up before 5 A.M. to the sound of a big buzzing insect flying around my ceiling. I tried to lure him out with some fancy maneuvering of the house lights, and while I didn’t see him leave, I guess he did for I haven’t seen him since. Sadly, I didn’t find any more sleep that morning either.

This house is going to be shared by all of the seasonal backpackers. Right now, it is just me and another backpacker, we’ll call him Steve, who comes from Germany. There is a backpacking couple that will be joining us in another few weeks.

Luckily we all have our own rooms, but unfortunately we will all be sharing the bathroom with our spider friends. I can only hope that someone else has the guts to take the lurkers out (either in murder or in the outdoors, I’m not picky).

We also have a shared kitchen and living area. We have a dining room table that has no chairs, and instead the table is accompanied by a spare headboard that doesn’t have a home.

My first night cooking, Steve and I found that at least two of the burners didn’t work. And the one burner I used that did work was not a law-abiding citizen. I was chopping vegetables and setting them to cook as I chopped. The burner was set to a 5, which is generally a normal, medium temperature. Well, the chopped carrots I threw on there started charring as I was working on cutting up the pepper that was going to follow it in. I turned the burner down to low, unsure where I should put it at, and still as soon as I threw the chopped pepper on, that started to char as well. I tried to work quickly chopping the rest of my things and throwing it in the pan, only allowing the tofu to cook for a few minutes before shutting the whole thing down. It still tasted good, but I couldn’t tell if there was any actual nutritional value left in the vegetables through the charred outsides.

Outside in the back, we have a laundry room. It is a large room that just consists of a washer sitting in the middle of it, surrounded by a random assortment of hay. The lack of a tumble dryer has kicked off my farm girl era by having me line dry my clothes outside. It’s certainly a strong start. With the cold air though, I feel like nothing dries very well, and I’m sure my jeans froze over at least once before I finally brought them inside.

There is an assortment of outdoor work equipment outside in the form of rain boots, or gum boots as they’re called. I was told to try a pair on and see if it fit before starting my first day. Unfortunately for me, they were all covered in cobwebs, and I couldn’t tell if their owners were home. I made a weapon out of an empty water bottle and destroyed their intricately built houses, steadily working up the courage to shove my feet inside.

The one pair I tried on was a little big, but I wasn’t about to repeat my steps a second time, so they would have to do. Luckily for me, the oversized fit of the boots turned out to be perfect. The mornings are near-freezing here, and the boots provide about zero insulation against the cold seeping in from the air and muddy ground.

My first day, I put one pair of socks on, stupidly thinking that would be enough. As we stood around cutting strings off of hale bays in the mud, I began to realize how pitiful those socks were. I lost feeling in my toes and tried desperately for an hour to keep wiggling them and try to bring some warmth back. During lunch, all I cared about was slipping on another pair of socks to survive the rest of the day.

The shift lead I was following around that morning must have taken note of my frozen toes. She made a trip into town that afternoon for some errands, and ended up bringing back some thick wool socks for me and Steve. I put them on immediately and felt like professing my love to her right then and there. Now I have about zero extra room left in my boots, and my toes are happy.

The farm isn’t super busy at the moment. They’re coming to the end of their off season and are getting ready to ramp up into the beginning of their whole next busy season. That first morning, we had only gotten a little tour of the farm and helped some with the hay. That afternoon though ended up picking up a little bit.

Though they aren’t technically due until next week, some of the mama cows had started to give birth that day. I actually got to witness one be born, though I was watching out the corner of my eye since unfortunately medicine was never my passion – I’m squeamish with any bodily fluids.

I was also able to witness how cows get sorted and settled into the milking shed. There are all sorts of devices and technology you’d never think existed until you’re in that kind of environment. The cows had a sort of gate where you were able to sort out cows from a herd and send them into different pens. If we were just looking for cows who had already given birth, or ones who were sick and due for medication, you could change the direction of the little gate and send them into whatever pen you wished. If the cows didn’t fit any category, they were sent straight through the gate and trekked back to their paddock.

For my second day, I got to do a little bit more with the cows in their paddocks. I learned how to put up fencing and a little bit about their feeding schedules. We extended the area to allow the cows to graze on new grass, and next we herded them to the crops paddock where they could feed on the crops growing there.

The funny thing I’ve discovered about cows is that they’re pretty curious about you, but also nervous. As soon as you pull up to where they are, they all flock to you, and will follow you as you walk along the outside of the fence. However, as soon as you step near them, they get freaked out and start backing away. It was fairly easy to herd them into their new pen, as you just walk behind then and they start running away, right in the direction you hoped for. Their constant mooing is also a great source of delight for me, for some reason.

The main way we herd though has been on a side-by-side, which is essentially like an ATV and a golf cart had a baby. You get behind the cows and zigzag back and forth until you get them out of their current paddock and into the one you need them in next. Some of the guys do this on motorbikes, but I don’t think anyone trusts me to get on one of those, myself included.

While my body has definitely been growing soft from my lack of access to a gym, I’m hoping that I get “country boy strong” from my farm work. I’ve always prided myself on being relatively strong, but when I was tasked with lifting up metal fences, using tools, and tossing hay bales the other day, I felt like a weak city girl. I passed out pretty early that night.

The farm is still about a week or two out from their busy season, so my days have mainly consisted of moving fences and herding cows for feeding time. I’ve been really enjoying the outdoor aspect of the job, and how free it feels to be able to drive around such a large property throughout the day. I always felt trapped inside when I would work inside one building, so here I can finally shed that feeling. That is, unless I’m working in the milking shed during the busy season, then it sounds like I’ll pretty much be glued there all day.

It sounds like I may work mainly with the calves, where they live in their separate shed. I would help with their feedings and make sure that they were growing up well. This would definitely be my preferred spot, although I’ve been told being surrounded by hundreds of calves whining all day can get hard on the eardrums.

I’ve been enjoying my time so far, and hope that the feeling continues. This job and environment are so different than anything else I’ve ever done, and just being able to get a unique experience like this makes my trip feel even more worth it. And once I get to pet a calf, my life will feel complete.