When I was very young, we'd go to my grandparent's house. At the back door and to the right, was a milk delivery door. It was cast iron on the outside against the brick and inside, next to where my Granddad would sit at the kitchen table, the inner wooden door with a chrome door. They were maybe 12" high and wide and the milk man would deliver milk there. When we'd visit and Grandma and Granddad weren't home, my Dad would stuff me through the little door onto Granddad's chair, and then I'd push the chair to the back door, climb up and unlock it so we could get in. My Mom also had milk delivered from Twin Pines Dairy. On the top was a little cardboard tab of a top and I remember my brother used to lick the milk off of it.
My Mom baked bread all the time and we'd have honey with the honeycomb still in it, and we always had a big strawberry patch. My sister and I (while watching Dad bent over picking big bowls of berries) found some big berries half eaten from slugs. His backside was right there! We knew we'd be in big trouble- but we let those smushy berries fly and SPLAT right on Dad's butt! So this is it… my personal hometown.

Related Posts:


Member Gallery