Dec. 29 is always a bustling day, with my birthday, my 12-year-wedding-at-city hall in Manhattan, Kansas, but most importantly, my mother’s birthday.
I was born on her 21st birthday
How lucky were you (that’s sarcasm)
But my 77-year-old mother, sitting a few days ago with my four Canadian daughters (3 grandsons missing) wouldn’t be there if her father, Homer, hadn’t got rid of the cows.
Mom lived.
It was about 1943, and my mother developed undulate fever from drinking unpasteurized raw milk.
Homer turned the farm into potatoes (as you do in Alliston, Ontario, that’s in Canada), and then became the asparagus baron of Canada.
A New York resident recently contracted the RB51 strain of the Brucella abortus bacteria after consuming raw milk.