This is my farm part 2

I squat with the milking stool next to the udder, clean the teats, place the bucket under it, and begin rhythmic movements to milk the milk. Apparently, I do it right, because the cow stays relaxed and after a few minutes the milk flow is finished.

I get up, knock the cow a few more times, and give Therese the rather full bucket. In her eyes I read something like light recognition. When I get out of the shed, Hans-Werner stretches out the thumbs up.

“Well done, Arne, I think the Thäräs know now that you are not a burden on her, otherwise she would have said that I can take you down again later.”

“I’m happy, because I want to learn how to cheesy, and I’ll have them try my Ziger and see if they do not change their minds.”

At lunchtime, Hans-Werner introduced me to his other employees. Beat, who is responsible for the cheese shop and the equipment, Thomas, the servant and Vanessa, his fiance, who takes care of the sale and the catering of the guests. The children of Therese come to school after school to help their mother a little and to do homework. In the evening they drive to the valley to stay in Thereses house. No easy life, when the mother has to stay over the summer and rarely comes to her own home. But from next year, she will take over the management of the dairy and it will be easier for everyone.

In the afternoon it is time to take care of the calves and get rid of the stables.

At 5 pm, the cows circling one by one for the evening milking. They are so accustomed and we do not need to get them out of the pasture. Beat only has to whistle a few times and the cattle know what’s hot. The afternoons are gone and all help with milking, so we can sit down for two hours for dinner.

Now I also get to know the children of Therese. Pirmin and Rolf, the two boys, as well as Anjana and Inna, their two daughters. With Inna, the smallest, I quickly close friendship. We tease constantly, make nonsense and grin at us until Therese calls her to the order and looks at me with a reproachful look.

I wink at Inna again and then we behave as we are expected.

After dinner Hans-Werner takes the children into the car and brings them home. Therese looks sad after them.

End of work.

I take a glass of milk, a piece of mountain cheese, and sit down on the terrace to wait for the sunset. The air is clear and warm and there is a gentle wind. I look down into the valley and tears run down my cheeks as I think of Urs and Klaus, who are no longer with us.

Suddenly I hear steps coming over the wooden terrace. I quickly wiped away the tears. Therese stands beside me with two glasses and a bottle of red wine in her hand.

“You were better at work today than I thought. Do you drink a sip of wine with me for the evening of the party?” ask her.

Oha, no creepy accent and almost pure High German, I think slightly surprised.

“Gladly,” I reply, and she pours me in. “Oh, a Pinot Noir from Valais, very good.”

“You know the wine?” She asks, amazed, and sits down beside me.

“Yes, Edith has the same in her hotel and the cheese fondue is no better.”

I look at them more closely. It can hardly be recognized again.

Clothes make people.

A light blue jeans skirt, a sleeveless white T-shirt that fits tightly and emphasizes two pretty breasts. Pretty long, light-brown hair, hidden from the straw hat during the day, has pushed her up into a tangled hairstyle. And no rubber boots! A pair of white sneakers do not make their legs look so short and burly.

What a change.

Beautifully curved, somewhat narrow lips, which I had so far only pinched, big brown eyes and a straight narrow nose complete an attractive face.

She noticed my searching looks and blushed easily.

Thank goodness Beat and the others come to us and the situation relaxes. Nevertheless, I notice how Therese occasionally gives me a secret side view, and I also watch them from the corners of my eye.

I do not sleep very well this night.

At 5 o’clock my alarm rings and I go to the yard to wash myself. Although we have a laundry room in the house, but only the ice cold spring water from the Steintrog drives me the last fatigue. As I walk back into the house, I see Therese watching me from her bedroom window. Should she.

A woman of 43 years and 4 children should not be more frightened by the sight of a man with a free upper body.

After the breakfast, it goes back to milking and Therese takes me to the cheese shop. There I see the great copper kettle for the first time.

“Up here we make kselselaibe weighing 20 kg,” she tells me. “At the bottom of the valley, it will be 80 kg heavy chunks, but the same is true for a 20 kg Emmentaler loaf, we need about 200-250 liters of unheated raw milk, the milk is immediately cooled and processed 20 degrees celcius and cleaning in a centrifuge, the milk in the copper kettle is heated up to 31 degrees C. Now the rennet is fed into the milk, so the Emmental gets its holes and taste.

After further heating to 51 degrees, the cheese crumbs are filled into the round mold, pressed at high pressure for about 18 hours and applied six times. Then the kelselaib comes 3-4 days for preservation in a bath with 18 to 22% salt content. “

“Stop, stop, stop,” I throw in, laughing. “Not so fast, I have to make a note of everything, an old man is not a D-train!”

“When breakfast and milking you do not notice your age,” Beat grins, “and if you’re so fast with other things, hui, hui, hui.”

Therese gives him a warning look, which Beat apparently ignores indifferently.

“Going to business,” she says harshly, “there is still enough to do to drive stupid thoughts.

The Emmentaler must now ripen in the fermentation cellar for about 2 months at a temperature of 23-25 degrees. During the fermentation and maturation process, carbonic acid gases form, which lead to bubbles (holes) in individual areas. The more balanced the ripening process is, the more even the holes in the cheese. Basis for the unfolding of taste and aroma, as well as for the training of a beautiful golden yellow bark is a high-quality milk. And our cows up here have only the very best food. “

Therese leads me through the rooms and the camp, shows me the cheese changing stations and the salt bath. When I explained that I was warming my cheese crack a second time to remove the penetrating goat’s taste, she listened attentively. I tell her that my cheese is only 700-1000g in weight, and I refined the taste with green pepper or finely chopped and cored chili.

“Fashionable Schnicknnack” is her answer, but she promises to try my cheese once.

“In the valley we make a very special Emmental,” she says with pride. “At the first quality check, special loafs are selected for further ripening, matured at a temperature of 11 to 14 degrees and at an air humidity of more than 90% until the age of at least eight months Would be the most important thing for the beginning. Cheese and wine are getting better with increasing age, both have in common. “

“True,” I said frankly, “and yes, yes, to women.”

Beat swallows, starts to cough and runs out of the cheese kitchen.

Therese runs purple and comes up to me.

“How do you mean it now?” She asks.

“Just as I say,” I reply, smiling. “A woman, at a certain age, has a power to attract men, but young men are sexy and irresistible, but an experienced woman is attractive, has a character and that certain something that the younger one still lacks.”

“You think I’m attractive?”

“Look at her, Therese, in spite of your four children, you have a good figure with all the attributes that belong to a pretty woman, an interesting face, a beautiful bosom and crispy pop, and tight legs Life in itself, could resist? Although ….., on our first meeting yesterday, I thought what a Berggorilla is for me. “

“Yes, you naughty, insolent Chärl,” she rumbled, and came out to scrub me.

I duck, and the swing of the blow that goes into the emptiness makes Therese take half a turn. I circle her hips with my arms and kiss her slowly from her shoulders up to her neck.

Therese sighs softly, leans back against my chest and lays her head against my shoulder. I kiss her cheek and nibble at her earlobe.

“No, not,” she says, as I slowly massage her stomach with gently circling movements, “if anyone sees us now.

“What more, please?” I fled. “I do not know what I’d rather do now.”

I already covered her breasts and kneaded her tenderly.

“Ooooh, aaaahhhhh, you can not do that, fingers away, no, no, do not stop Oh my goodness, how beautiful is that, what are you doing to me,” she groans.