Freesia in Engle’s Milk Bottle.
Over the crisp scent of fresh vegetables and the salty odor of raw meat, I smelled the freesia before I saw. It found me at the farmer’s market, while I was debating which type of lettuce to buy. Brilliantly white and heavy with it’s sweetness, I bought a bouquet of it along with my lettuce and kale for the week. I found a home for it in a Engle’s Milk Bottle, purchased at a antique store in central PA. While I do have a penchant for clear glass containers, milk bottles typically don’t register for me. This one, however, is special.
My grandfather, on my mother’s side, ran Engle Dairy’s for 25 years outside of Sunbury, Pennsylvania. I know where the farm is, I’ve driven past it a few times and can picture the land around it. He milked every single one of his cows by hand, every morning. He stopped farming when the state changed regulations for milking, forcing all dairy farmers to use milking machines.
When I find Engle’s Milk bottles, it’s like finding a fractured piece of family history.