For the past eighteen months or so, every Thursday has been milk day, one of our favourite times of the week.
We meet at a friends beautiful farm (a post about that another day) and wait for our organic milk from a dairy in Northern Tasmania to be delivered. We chat and drink tea while the children run amok - putting on plays or painting and playing dress ups. Then Pete arrives, one of his last stops after a verrryy long day, with milk and yoghurt and hopefully butter (ooh it's rare). Then we take it straight home to decant into glass milk bottles. The pail and glass yoghurt jars are washed and returned to the dairy, collected at the next week's delivery.
Anyhow, Pete's not delivering the milk any more, he's focusing all his efforts on his organic vegetable farm. Growing produce that we also get delivered every week. We'll still be able to order the milk from our local organic cafe, but what in blazes is the world coming to when you have to GO TO THE SHOPS for milk...
Wow - that is beautiful. I love this tradition - what a shame it is ending! Life sounds positively dreamy.
ReplyDeletewe are lucky enough to have a dairy that delivers milk and eggs to our doorstep each week. i can only hope that this can continue for years to come. and the best part...we have a milk box on our front stoop!
ReplyDeletewe are lucky enough to have a dairy that delivers milk and eggs to our door each week. it feels very "old world" and i only hope that it can continue for years to come. and the best part...we have a milk box on our front stoop!
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