Eight Thousand Gallons of Milk and a Small Blue Ledger

paper sack and his own thermos. He sat down across from me, his movements slow with the weariness of a ten-hour shift.

“The washers are running the hot cycle on the tanks,” Wayne said, pouring a cup of coffee from his thermos. “We will be down for another forty minutes.”

“How is the temperature on the pasteurizer holding?” I asked.

“One continue reading …