It seems a lifetime ago now. And really, it is. Living in an outer suburb of Sydney where most streets ended in dead ends. Before developers returned years later to extend roads and build more housing. All those years ago we had milk deliveries. Sometimes brought to us by horse and cart, so that enterprising gardeners would dash outside to scoop up the steaming manure to spread around their vegetable patches. Kids might rush out to pet the horse. Importantly, empty bottles left out were thoroughly washed. No one had to be asked. It was accepted that’s what you did. 

The clink of bottles gave the delivery away. The bottles tinkled as the deliverer jogged between houses. Picking up the empties and replacing them with full bottles. If you were slow in collecting them, the magpies might help themselves. Bottle top pierced and beak thrust into the milk, drinking it so the top layer (often where cream made it thicker) disappeared. Technology (if you can call it that) had the answer however. Soon you could buy plastic lids that clicked onto your new bottles. The milko (as those delivering the milk were called), removed your lids from the old bottle and clipped onto your new ones.      

Regularly the milko would pop into your letterbox an account on what you owed for deliveries. No credit card options to pay or transfer to a bank account. Incredibly, you’d pay in cash. Left out overnight, popped into an envelope or wrapped in paper with an elastic band around it. That was a time of trust. Leaving cash outside. Front door left unlocked. Car doors unlocked. Bikes parked on the front porch. Overnight rains wouldn’t spoil your cash. Coins would be enough to cover the cost. 

We know it’s a different world now. Deep distrust of corporates and political systems. The threat of scams. Jobs that by the end of the working week seem to have taken your soul. The impossibility of buying a home. There’s plenty of ways to measure how the world has changed. Even milk deliveries.