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You know the drill.
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So many items popped into my head when I read this… but if I’m going to have to choose one:
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The milk box.
(No, I didn’t grow up in Palmyra, PA … but I couldn’t find an image of the dairy that provided our back porch with a milk delivery box so this will have to do.)
Young people today are amazed when you tell them a milkman actually came to your house twice a week and left the milk, cream, and butter you ordered in a zinc lined metal box. And while I admit I vaguely remember ours as the service ended when I was quite young… never running out of milk had to be the ultimate convenience. Some dairies left ice cream as well.
Now that’s a delivery I can totally get behind.
Your turn.
What item did you grow up with that no one sees anymore?
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River's world..... 
I grew up in a very primitive part of the country, so outhouses, pee-cans under the bed, kerosene lamps, winter dressing rooms and postemen on mules don’t count.
Probably the dial phone with a looooooong curly cord, or iron boot scrapers where the walkway enters the side-walk.
Or the choke on cars, maybe …
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I learned to drive on a 62 Ford Falcon. That choke was a temperamental bitch. And I live in Maine where spring is called mud season… we still have iron boot scrapers.
😉
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World Book encyclopedia
Encyclopedia Britannica
rotary phone
8 track tapes
reel to real tape recorders
cassette tapes
manual typewriters
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I still have my 8 tracks and cassettes. Wish I had my mother’s old typewriter, she was a beauty… and weighed a ton!
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Our milk delivery was daily, but it was brought right inside the kitchen door. No zinc boxes for us. But what I remember was the bane of my existence. When I got to be about 6 years old I was given the chore of keeping the oil-burning space heaters replete with oil. We had one in the living room, and one in the upstairs hallway. Three times a day I had to carry four jerry-cans of oil from the detached garage, about 100 feet away from the house, through snow and ice and cold cold winds, into the house to fill the oil tanks. My brothers were all older, and could have done the work in one or two trips, but I could not fill the jerry-can past half full or I could not carry it. The six steps up to the kitchen door were hard enough, the twelve steps to the upstairs furnace had me sweating. Before school, after school, and at bedtime, every day from September to May, and god help me if I missed a fill. When the temperatures got down to 40 below F, which they did every December or January, then it was 4 times a day.
In the garage were two 50 gallon oil barrels that I had to drain oil out of into my jerry-can, which I had to keep track of how much oil was in them so I could tell my sperm donor when to order a refill. If I waited too long, and we ran out of oil, there was hell to pay.
Ten years this was my chore, till I left home on my 16th birthday. By that time all my brothers and sisters had moved away (my mother died when I was 8) so I guess he had to fill his own oil tanks after that. I personally hope he froze! He was a lazy bastard.
Anyways, the two things I saw every day except during summer were the two oil barrels in the garage. I even had pet names for them. I knew them when I started this comment, but one has escaped me for the moment. The other one I called Rancid! They were the two things I can say I actually hated in my life, so thanks for the memories! (I don’t want to sound mean, but that was a time of my life I had not thought of in years, but it came right back with your question. I could have done without that memory.) The other barrel might have been Rotten. The names were all about the smell of the fuel oil. It turned my stomach every time I had to smell it, which was far too often for a little boy!
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Sorry to bring back memories. That sounds perfectly horrid.
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It was worse than horrid, but they are just memories now. I know how to deal with them, but it makes a minute to recover.
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No zinc boxes here either but more “modern” houses had a little cubby with outside and inside doors built into the side entry where the milkman could pick up his money (and empty milk bottles) and leave the milk. I believe the milkman delivered orange juice as well. (Small kids who forgot their house key could wiggle through the milk cubby to get into their homes.) Then there was the bread man and one of the two also delivered eggs – can’t remember which one. I grew up in an old farm house so no milk cubby but the milk was left in the unheated but enclosed front porch.
Deb
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Bread delivery? Be still my heart…
❣️
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A landline phone on the kitchen wall. A DVD player, a console television set with no remote control (that only got 4 stations.)
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I’m not sure how my husband survived without a remote control. Oh, the horror.
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i own several old plastic milk crates which are unfortunately not quite wide enough to store 12 inch LPs, but I have a much smaller collection (about 70) of 10 inch LPs which fit nicely into one crate. The other crates are holding air and dust until I can find a better use for them (which may be never).
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I used to have my albums in plastic crates but they don’t fit the man cave decor.
😉
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A tape recorder. My parents used to record me and my brother when we were young and send those cassettes to my grandparents back east. I guess that was a very early precursor to Facetime.
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I remember hiding an old tape recorder under the table where my parents were talking. I caught hell for that. .
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