Last Sunday I ran out of milk, not a common occurrence because I drink so little milk, mainly because I don’t like it very much. Normally I take a drop of skimmed milk in my weak tea and the semi-skimmed variety in coffee and cereal. Upon the departure of Sue and Glenn five weeks ago, the unopened two litre bottle of whole milk left for my use had gone straight into the freezer, where it promptly turned an odd yellow colour.
I can’t remember when last I actually enjoyed drinking milk – it probably goes back to primary school days at Manly West when the crates of ice-cold third-of-a-pint bottles of milk were brought out on parade each morning and the bottles distributed, in orderly fashion, by milk monitors… Nearly all of us (apart from Mary, my sister) liked milk back then. But no, nowadays I don’t care much for milk or even cereal, for that matter – at least, not until Monday morning when I made a discovery in the fridge…
In fact, for a moment or two I thought that a good fairy had come in whilst I had slept because, instead of seeing the bottle of yellow frozen milk I had rescued from the freezer the night before, there was a bottle of pristine white milk awaiting me – on the outside there were even several inviting droplets of water denoting the coolness of the liquid within. I opened the bottle; it certainly looked unharmed after its term in the cooler and I poured some out over a bowl of similarly just released “Golden Honey Clusters” (needed a change from “All Bran”, or birdseed and groats – still dieting, of course).
It seems that I like milk after all; mind you, only when it has been frozen at minus eighteen degrees for five weeks, then thawed partially and stored at three degrees, thus keeping the icy heart intact. Indeed, it is particularly nice on “Golden Honey Clusters”, which I’ve found also serve as a good lunch or dinner – no preparation and such a pleasant change from salad.
And here are the lyrics of the 1966 Herman’s Hermits song, “No Milk Today”, for those of you who are trying to remember how it goes… Aw, I’d never given it much thought before (perhaps because it was a bit before my time). Rather sweet if a tad repetitive.
“No Milk Today” – Herman’s Hermits (Peter Noone)
The bottle stands for lorn, a symbol of the dawn
No milk today, it seems a common sight
But people passing by don’t know the reason why
How could they know just what this message means
The end of my hopes, the end of all my dreams
How could they know the palace there had been
Behind the door where my love reigned as queen
No milk today, it wasn’t always so
The company was gay, we’d turn night into day
But all that’s left is a place dark and lonely
A terraced house in a mean street back of town
Becomes a shrine when I think of you only
Just two up two down
No milk today, it wasn’t always so
The company was gay, we’d turn night into day
As music played the faster did we dance
We felt it both at once, the start of our romance
How could they know just what this message means
The end of my hopes, the end of all my dreams
How could they know a palace there had been
Behind the door where my love reigned as queen
No milk today, my love has gone away
The bottle stands forlorn, a symbol of the dawn
But all that’s left is a place dark and lonely
A terraced house in a mean street back of town
Becomes a shrine when I think of you only
Just two up two down
No milk today, my love has gone away
The bottle stands forlorn, a symbol of the dawn
No milk today, it seems a common sight
But people passing by don’t know the reason why
How could they know just what this message means
The end of my hopes, the end of all my dreams
How could they know a palace there had been
Behind the door where my love reigned as queen
No milk today, it wasn’t always so
The company was gay, we’d turn night into day
But all that’s left is a place dark and lonely
A terraced house in a mean street back of town
Oh all that’s left is a place dark and lonely
A terraced house in a mean street back of town
Oh all that’s left is a place dark and lonely
A terraced house in a mean street back of town
I expect the milk returned to its former pristine deliciousness after its sojourn in the deep freeze because it had been “Herman Hermetically” sealed!
Now why didn’t I think of that? I hope my readership read these witty comments now and then!