Remember when

Both of my parents worked and my sisters and I were in school 9 months out of the year, so the milkman would just come in the house (door was never locked) and leave the milk in the fridge.

You know, I think that was true for us as well. I think the only time he left it on the back porch was when he could tell we were home (always gave us a knock after fending off the dog coming through the back gate). The age of innocence...lost forever
 
Hey, you didn't mention following the the Ice Wagon (For those uneducated souls that don't know what an Ice Wagon is: A horse drawn wagon that delivered ice to homes for the "Ice Box." Homes did not have refrigerators yet.). Anyway we would follow one for blocks to get splinters of ice that would fall off when they used an ice pick to split a 50 pound block of ice into two 25 pound size blocks to fit into the Ice Box.

Ah yes, "The good old days" other wise known as "Poor memory."

Enjoy,
JimB

Jim,
you must be a lot older then me... our ice man drove a truck :D:D ... the ice was in a big wooden box in the back, he wore a leather apron with a shoulder piece that protected his back for when he hoisted the blocks of ice over the shoulder to hike into the house. Today I see the ice tongs in "antique" stores with all kinds of descriptions for them... usually not ice tongs.:huh:

Also saw a well bucket in an antique store that was labeled a "seed drill"..:huh:.. if you remember the drilled wells that had 8 or 10 inch shafts and long narrow buckets that were dropped down the shaft... the buckets were usually about 6" dia and close to 3' long... you pulled them up, swung them out over the edge of the well, then pulled a lever at the top to dump the water from the bottom into your house bucket.
 
You know, I think that was true for us as well. I think the only time he left it on the back porch was when he could tell we were home (always gave us a knock after fending off the dog coming through the back gate). The age of innocence...lost forever

Both of my parents worked and my sisters and I were in school 9 months out of the year, so the milkman would just come in the house (door was never locked) and leave the milk in the fridge.

Our milk man just walked in and set the milk on the kitchen counter... it was still fresh from the cow and mom had to strain it through cloth in case anything got dropped into the bucket... Dad would milk and bring it to the house, but after that it Mom's responsibility. BTW, warm milk fresh from a cow stinks.... sure tastes good after it's cooled. Unless the cow has been into some questionable grass... we had a weed in our pasture Dad called a Jensen weed... made some bitter nasty tasting milk.

Never liked alfalfa milk much either...

I still like a glass of milk with my breakfast.. and if I can get it, a good glass of buttermilk can't be beat. Back in the day before pasteurization, Mom would set a crock out to let it "clabber" so she could make cottage cheese or use it in the churn... Dad like to drink it with cornbread in it... I just like it cold so I could spoon the milk solids like ice cream.
 
Guess it's a matter of familiarity...

No offence... But that sounds revolting to me.

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