Posted: 26/01/2017 at 14:41
Joice I did not to go far for that smell, we had stables, i helped Dad shovel horse muck and straw through a trap door in the end wall straight into the midden.
My Mothers Uncle was the milkman the dairy farm just up the road we among the first delivery, Uncle Arthur would walk in with a jug of fresh milk for my porridge saying get that down thee lad you will need muscle for "t" tattie picken, Yorkshire born like my Mother.. Dad was from Prudhoe me born in Durham it was like being a linguist even before the Greek Latin and French started.
Holidays I would stay on the farm helping with morning milking, often drank it straight from the bucket, it was filtered and went through the cooler then delivered. Churns with dipping measures for Jill Half and Pint, the ladies brought thier own jugs to the cart. There was a Fordson Tractor but Arthur preferred his horses Suffolk Punch and Cleveland Bay. I loved horses.