I’ve been carting this big metal box around everywhere I’ve moved for years.
For some years before that, my mother carted it around. It was first delivered to her door in 1966.
My parents had just moved to Silver Spring, Maryland.
The milk man delivered twice a week–early in the morning. My mother regularly used all five bottles for the family.
If she needed butter or cream, she’d just leave a note and he’d bring that, too. It was, she says, very handy. (I can imagine!)
One time when the weather had made him late, she saw the milk man coming from up the street yelling, “I’m coming, I’m coming.”
When he got to the front door, he had little me in his arms.
I’d been outside playing and he’d found me stuck in a snowbank.
He was a super hero milk man, delivering the milk and rescuing wee damsels at the same time.
The milk box always sat by the steps in the carport. After my parents moved away, they unpacked at their new house and discovered to their surprise that the packers had packed up the milk box and bottles along with everything else.
And so she decided to keep them, thinking they might be collectibles some day. Eventually she gave them to me, and I saved them, too. Never dreaming that one day….
….I’d actually put milk in them from my own cow!
P.S. Have NOT figured out what to do about a lid. So far, I’m just wrapping a bit of tin foil over the tops.