Churn, churn, churn.(Kevin Hughes) “A hundred years old?”

“Yep.”

“Isn’t that how old Grandpa is?”

The young Mom smiled.

“Not yet. Grandpa is only 84.”

“Might as well be a hundred, when you count that high, you are old!”

She reached over and tossed the hair of her youngest…Tommy. He might only be six years old, but he understood some things better than his two older brothers…and his younger sister.

“Well, how old do you think I am?”

She asked with a twinkle in her eye.

He studied her for a second. Scrunched up his face (and it was all she could do to stifle the laugh as she watched him try to do the math in his head.”

“Well…your old…but not as old as Nanny and Grandpa….so…I don’t know…maybe twenty five?”

“Oh, bless you child!”

He didn’t know what he did to get the quick hug, and the peck on the cheek, but he loved them both.

She never did tell him her age.

As is often the case in the world of “Kiddom” his little mind shifted gears. Looking at the strange looking bucket with the crank on it he returned to the subject at hand.

“So our Family has been making ice cream in this (pointing to the old worn wooden bucket with the faded blue paint job) for more than a hundred years?”

She smiled down at him as she poured rock salt around the inner chamber…along with ice.

“Yep. As soon as your Dad gets here with Nanny and your brothers and sister, we shall start churning away.”

“What does churn mean?”

“You’ll see.”

And that is all she said. A two quick beep beep from the driveway let her know the rest of the Family was here now.”

Ten minutes later, Nanny had inspected all the preparations, and made sure the recipe (including eggs, condensed milk, vanilla extract and Heavy cream had been put in the right proportions) had been followed the way she had taught her daughter more than thirty years ago. Her daughter beamed when her Mother said:

“You remember well, Honey. This will be delicious.”

She blushed a bit. Her Mother wasn’t from the generation that tossed around compliments. Her generation expected you to do a good job…why wouldn’t you do your best. So compliments were only for “above and beyond” solid work.

The boys lined up to start churning by turning the handle. Nanny stopped them.

“Oh, no. You don’t use this ice cream maker indoors!”

Four puzzled looks at her. Five- if you count the Dad- who had no clue what she meant.

She smiled at them all.

“Tell them Honey.”

Her Daughter chuckled. She knew what her Mom wanted. And why.

“This is a magic ice cream maker. It takes a lot of churning (which is when you spin the crank- and take a wooden spoon to keep the rock salt and ice evenly spaced around the chamber). Your arms will get tired after just a few minutes. And it will take about a good forty five minutes to churn a whole gallon. There isn’t enough of you children to do the job, even if Dad (and she winked over at him over the kids heads) pitches in with his big muscles.

It will take about ten kids…maybe more…to get it just right.”

“Where are we going to get ten kids?”

“You’ll see. I told you this was a Magic Churn.”

So out on the front porch they all marched. Dad carried the now very heavy bucket out to the front porch. Nanny, even though she was old, started with directions and demonstrated how to churn. She taught the children the “churning song” she had taught her own children to offset the boring (and difficult) cranking of the handle.

It didn’t take long for Sarah (The youngest at four years of age) to tire out. Even the boys only managed about a minute or so. Surprisingly…at least to him…Dad got tired after just two minutes.

“Whew, you really have to crank that thing!”

It was just about then that the first neighbor kid showed up. It was Billy the twelve year old boy who lived two houses over. He rode up on his bike.

“Hey, what you guys doing with that old bucket?”

“Making ice cream!” Chirped four children’s voices at once.

“What? How?”

Nanny and her daughter smiled at each other. It had begun.

Billy went at it with a frenzy. The crank spinning in a blur as his young muscles and boundless energy plowed into his task. After three or four minutes, another kid: Stefanie, the fourteen year old Cheerleader who lived next door, and her sister Charlotte showed up. Charlotte was two years younger than Stefanie, but already almost as tall. They both asked Billy and the Sorenson’s what they were doing?”

“Making Ice cream.”

“No way. You don’t make ice cream in a bucket!”

“Oh, yeah, well wait till you taste it! You won’t buy any crummy store bought ice cream ever again!”

Once again, Tommy was surprised when his Mom bent over to kiss the top of his head. But he glowed inside.

Moments later, Stefanie was giving Billy a break and churning the crank with just as much speed and power as Billy had. Three minutes later…

“Boy, this is hard!”

“My turn!”

Yelled her sister Charlotte. The switch was swift. The crank barely stopped turning when Charlotte began churning away.

That’s when the O’Malley Twins rode up on their bikes. They weren’t identical twins, Steve was a boy, and Amanda was a girl. They looked like brother and sister…which, of course, they were.

“What you all doing? How old is that bucket?”

“More than a hundred years old!”

“No kidding? What’s it for?”

Sally, only five but paying attention to how it was working its Magic…spoke up:

“It makes ice cream, but if you want any…you have to churn the crank for a while.”

She looked over at her Mom to see if that was the right thing to say.

“Yes, that’s right Honey. If you churn, you get to eat some when it is ice cream.”

Charlotte was red faced with effort and a bead of sweat had formed on her brow.

“Come on Steve, take over. Just keep turning the handle as fast as you can. When you get tired…Amanda, you take a turn.”

And so it went.

Nanny finally stopped Billy after his second turn.

“Let me take a taste test.”

Everyone crowded around when the handle stopped and Mr. Sorenson took the lid off of the chamber. It looked like creamy vanilla ice cream…but thicker.

Nanny put a small spoon in, lifted it to her nose, sniffed, then gently put just a dab on her tongue. She closed her eyes and smiled.

“Perfect.”

Bowls and spoons were passed out all around.

Stefanie made them all laugh when she said:

“Oh, my God! Tommy was right. I will never buy ice cream at the grocery store again!”

The sun signaled the end of a long afternoon. The kids offered to help clean up the dishes, and all of them wanted to see how you cleaned the ice cream churn. A date was set. In just two weeks, everyone could come back to churn. And this time, Nanny would show them how to make strawberry home made ice cream.

Steve made them all laugh again.

“You have to churn your ice cream…or you don’t get any.”

“You mean earn your ice cream, don’t you?”

Steve smiled.

“Nope, you have to churn it!”

Everyone laughed.

The old blue bucket was hung upside down to dry.

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