It was seemingly only for a fleeting few seconds, but in almost less time than it takes to say Abracadabra, the ice cream melted or was consumed by the six-year-old boy that resides somewhere in my body. The flashback in time was locked in my head as the General removed the dasher from the ice cream freezer and placed it in my capable hands. I used a spoon to lift the residue of ice cream from the dasher. I intuitively knew what to do. It is a lot like riding a bicycle. Some things you never forget.
The sensation provided a kaleidoscope of memories from my childhood years. My parents often made homemade ice cream. It didn’t even need to be a special occasion, but often when we had company, we’d make ice cream for dessert. Consequently, my memories took me back to the days when life was simpler and less complicated.
The process of making ice cream seemed more complicated back then. It was long before the days of using an electric ice cream maker and the freezer came equipped with a hand crank.
The process probably could have been a one-person job, but we made it the work of two. I often opted to perch on top of the freezer as my dad cranked the handle. Always in the process was the anticipation of how good the ice cream would taste when the process concluded and the ice cream was thoroughly frozen.
A couple of years ago, our church hosted a social event for the community featuring homemade ice cream. It was well attended and everyone seemed to have a good time. Over the past year and a half, due to COVID restrictions, all social events have fallen by the wayside.
Wasn't it time to resume activities that resonate with folks who are sick and tired of being stuck in the house? Isolation sucks the life out of folks and good sense would dictate the need to embrace every opportunity to gather for people contact and the sheer joy of shared time. Throw in homemade ice cream and it sweetens the deal substantially.
So last night, was the first social event since life came to a screeching halt in March 2020. Of course, there were a lot of unknowns. How many people would be in attendance? Would we have enough ice cream? There had been a sign-up sheet at church for folks planning to bring ice cream, but the last time I had looked, it seemed mostly like a blank page.
Of course, I should have known that our family of faith would rise to the occasion and that there would be more than enough. Would you believe seven ice cream freezers with the formula needed for making the best of a hot summer's day? In addition, there were other delicacies prepared by capable hands and ingenuity.
The event was very well attended and many folks extended the 6:00-to-8:00 time frame by at least 30 minutes. I didn't see anyone who didn't appear to be having a very enjoyable time.
Based on my taste test, the coffee ice cream was the most unusual. I gave up coffee about 3 months ago and the taste of a spoonful of coffee ice cream pleasantly jolted my system-wide awake! Wow, who would have thought?
They say a little dab will do you, so I ingested a small sample from each freezer. Of course, I subsequently over-indulged by taking a bowl or two from the freezer of ice cream made from the recipe that was my mother's. The taste transported me back in time and I was a six-year-old kid again. It felt so good and it felt so right with the memories of home that filled my head.
I opted out of the face painting, but others did not. Even a young adult or two opted to join a long line of younger kids for a modified look.
All The Best!
Don
The sensation provided a kaleidoscope of memories from my childhood years. My parents often made homemade ice cream. It didn’t even need to be a special occasion, but often when we had company, we’d make ice cream for dessert. Consequently, my memories took me back to the days when life was simpler and less complicated.
The process of making ice cream seemed more complicated back then. It was long before the days of using an electric ice cream maker and the freezer came equipped with a hand crank.
The process probably could have been a one-person job, but we made it the work of two. I often opted to perch on top of the freezer as my dad cranked the handle. Always in the process was the anticipation of how good the ice cream would taste when the process concluded and the ice cream was thoroughly frozen.
A couple of years ago, our church hosted a social event for the community featuring homemade ice cream. It was well attended and everyone seemed to have a good time. Over the past year and a half, due to COVID restrictions, all social events have fallen by the wayside.
Wasn't it time to resume activities that resonate with folks who are sick and tired of being stuck in the house? Isolation sucks the life out of folks and good sense would dictate the need to embrace every opportunity to gather for people contact and the sheer joy of shared time. Throw in homemade ice cream and it sweetens the deal substantially.
So last night, was the first social event since life came to a screeching halt in March 2020. Of course, there were a lot of unknowns. How many people would be in attendance? Would we have enough ice cream? There had been a sign-up sheet at church for folks planning to bring ice cream, but the last time I had looked, it seemed mostly like a blank page.
Of course, I should have known that our family of faith would rise to the occasion and that there would be more than enough. Would you believe seven ice cream freezers with the formula needed for making the best of a hot summer's day? In addition, there were other delicacies prepared by capable hands and ingenuity.
The event was very well attended and many folks extended the 6:00-to-8:00 time frame by at least 30 minutes. I didn't see anyone who didn't appear to be having a very enjoyable time.
Based on my taste test, the coffee ice cream was the most unusual. I gave up coffee about 3 months ago and the taste of a spoonful of coffee ice cream pleasantly jolted my system-wide awake! Wow, who would have thought?
They say a little dab will do you, so I ingested a small sample from each freezer. Of course, I subsequently over-indulged by taking a bowl or two from the freezer of ice cream made from the recipe that was my mother's. The taste transported me back in time and I was a six-year-old kid again. It felt so good and it felt so right with the memories of home that filled my head.
I opted out of the face painting, but others did not. Even a young adult or two opted to join a long line of younger kids for a modified look.
All The Best!
Don
