the milk farm

Right outside of our town is a spot that used to be called Milk Farm. It was a diner, and I remember stopping there with Steve, maybe 25 years ago. I have always loved the sign, and at one time fantasized that I would pay $10,000 to have it as my own (that was pre-recession fantasizing). The diner is gone, but the sign still stands. Despite passing it several times a week, I have never stopped to photograph it. Until Saturday.

It was a little tricky. Fence, barbed wire, a ditch and plenty of tall, wet grass and mushy mud. And a pesky tree in the way. Though I didn’t scale the fence, I did manage the ditch and the grass.

I took this one as I was driving away. Please don’t tell my mother I did this. Or my husband. Or my children. Or the Highway Patrol. Or anyone who would think I was being irresponsible. It was for context, you know?


About kim tackett

Northern CA marketing consultant, writer of very small stories, and drinker of very strong coffee.
This entry was posted in Just Life. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to the milk farm

  1. kitchendoor says:

    I love vintage signs like that. Especially if whatever they’re sign-ing is no longer there.

    Happy Thanksgiving, if I don’t talk to you 🙂

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