THE MILK CRATE©

By Christine Thiel 

The milk crate.  The humble, plastic milk crate.

It turns up everywhere, anywhere.

You have to have a milk crate, I was told, by the man I bought my caravan from.

You can use a milk crate as a sturdy, stable step.  You can sit on a milk crate, and get strange, diamond patterns on your bum.  A towel stops that.

Its just the right height for almost everything.  And you can colour co-ordinate your milk crates.  It comes in a range of colours.  Blue, red, orange, black, yellow, and probably others I havent come across yet.

Its on the backs and fronts of push bikes to carry the shopping home, or to take the dog for ride.  Stand the boat trailer tow hitch on a milk crate if you dont have a jockey wheel, use it as a saw horse or trestle.  Flip it over and its good for storing things too.

Gardening tools, cleaning gear, in the back of the car for odds and ends.  Car polishes, spare oil and radiator coolant, rags well, you get the idea.

The barbecue gas bottle.  Makes it easy to carry, and more stable in the station wagon.  Fishing gear of course.

Im wondering if milk crates have a society of their own.  Maybe even a travel club.  Perhaps they perform community service.

Ive seen milk crates in the most bizarre places.  At roadside parking bays, way out in the outback desert, in the mangroves, rising and falling on the tide.  In the shed, of course.  Some people have a collection of milk crates.

But where did it all start?

Well, its moulded in a factory, distributed to the milk factory to store and transport milk to supermarkets, the corner deli, roadhouses in the outback.

It contains 1 litre, 2 litre, 4 litre bottles of milk.  Plastic or cardboard packs.  Some round, but mostly square or oblong.  Not glass anymore, but milk did come in one pint, glass bottles in days gone by.

The supermarket, deli or roadhouse may have paid a deposit on the crate or maybe not.

So how did these milk crate escape?

I have one because a well-meaning man said I needed one.  Needed one?!

An interesting concept.  Of all the things we need in life, the milk crate is included in the long list of essentials.

Collections of milk crates can be seen around campfires. 

Perhaps, if all the world had a milk crate, there would be peace.

If the United Nations met around a campfire, and all the delegates bought their own milk crates, and milk crates were provided to those who couldnt provide their own, they would all be equal.

As each delegate shared his yarn, and the other delegates listened intently, staring at the dancing flames and glowing coals of the camp fire, under the starry sky all would be right with the World.

Imagine if the warring countries of the World did the same.

Maybe the troops currently attempting to keep peace could sit around the campfire on milk crates, instead of sitting around on tanks.

No one would dare fire a shot and disturb the peace. 

Maybe Australia could send milk crates to George W. Bush at the White House.

Theres no prestige to a milk crate, but the custodian of a milk crate protects it with their life.  If anyone lends a milk crate, they dont take their eyes of it as it moves off in the hands of the borrower.  If the loan extends beyond a few hours, the lender enquires about the welfare of his milk crate.  Theres almost a celebration of reunion when the milk crate is returned.  The least  youll hear is a sigh of relief on its return.

Just what is this bond we have with our milk crate?

What about the people who originally acquired the crate with, would you believe, containers of milk in it?

Do they miss their milk crates?  Did it cost them anything?  How do they account for the missing crates?  Did they ever have to account for the milk crate at all?

Its one of the mysteries of life.

A little similarity to the shopping trolley, but easier to control.

But thats another story.