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?

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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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