Thinking about transportion...

It is on my commute each day that topics for this blog pop into my head.
It bothers me that I do burn alot of foreign oil to get to work.
Other than that part, I think what I do is "right work".
Especially after I read Barbara Kingsolver's expose of the cost of calories based on transportation of goods that travel to stores "out-of-season".
Having joined my local CSA,  I have ameliorated one pang of guilt today.
I grew up on a street, in a small town, in the 1950's when our milk was delivered to the milk box (an insulated aluminum box) on our front porch by a horse-drawn wagon from Houck's Dairy. My faded memory pictures a large draft horse clip-clopping down the street at a steady, slow pace. The driver of the wagon grabbed the milk bottles already line up in a wire basket and dashed to the front steps to place the bottles inside.
Sometimes, the driver hollered, "Whoa!" and the horse came to a halt.
At my house, if I was allowed to after my afternoon nap, I got to run to that gargantuan beast and say "Hello".
At five, that was when I fell in love with horses. This docile creature gently lipped carrots held up from my tiny, up-stretched hand. The sweat evaporating from his glistening chesnut coat delivered an aroma to fill my senses. I was just about eye-level to that great horse's chest.
Fascinated with his gentle eyes and enormous head, I stroked as much of his nose that I could reach.
His flaring nostrils, showied delicate pink surfaces that ebbed and flowed with each breath. Now I realize that he towed a heavy load of full milk bottles for a route extending beyond just our neighborhood.
I was no more than 5 yrs old at the time. This impression has remained with me and evoked amazment when recollecting it. Yes, it really did happen in my life time. The dairy farm L.J. Houck & Sons  only exists in collective memory.
I just googled this (What did we do before the Internet?)

My Dad, Mike Mazur, was a Route Foreman for L.J. Houck & Sons dairy. He worked there for 30 yrs. and could speak six languages, which was a big help when he delivered milk in the different ethnic neighborhoods. Pete and Maude were two of the horses that pulled the Houck's wagons up and down our neighborhood streets.

A validation of my childhood memory.