Well, as too often happens, we spent the majority of the weekend running errands and doing chores: searching for the right size of locker organizer, picking up extra uniform shorts for school, a stop at Academy for bench cushions (Baylor homecoming is only a couple of months away — gotta be ready!). And then there's the never-ending pile of laundry to tackle.
We did manage to squeeze in a little fun, though. A Scrabble game, bits and pieces of a Sunday afternoon Scooby-Doo marathon... and making a bucket of homemade ice cream!
It was our very first time to make it ourselves, and I'll admit that our recipe turned out to be just a tad sweeter than my tastes would prefer. But boy, was it good! Cat and Cowboy felt obliged to ruin theirs with all sorts of "taste enhancers": M&M's, chocolate syrup, crumbled up Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, etc. Kids today just don't know a good thing when it lands on the tips of their noses. Or all over their cheeks and chins, either!
I had forgotten how wonderful homemade ice cream was. It immediately brought up memories of summer weekends in East Texas at my grandparents' house. We would sit outside on the back patio with infinite patience (yeah, right) while Pappaw busted up the milk cartons of ice with his ball peen hammer, then poured the creamy goodness into the bucket and started up the magic that would turn it into ice cream.
I barely remember the hand-crank ice cream maker that Pappaw used to have. He would often encourage us to help crank it, but I don't think I ever lasted more than three or four turns. But what I really remember is that old motor-driven bucket he had. I remember when we were still small, he would have us come and help hold the top down with a couple of short planks of wood while the thick ice cream inside would gradually slow the churning motor to a standstill. I remember the smell of the rock salt he would pour over the layers of splintered ice in the bucket. And I remember constantly making checks by the back door to see we could still hear the motor running, 'cause once it went quiet it was almost time for heaven.
I hate to admit it, but I think I was almost as excited as my own kids were this past weekend when I heard the sound of that ice cream motor turning. Is it ice cream yet?!?