Yep. About sums up my life lately. We have been busy, busy, busy. I guess that's what happens when you are preparing to pack up your life and move it to another state with a baby in tow. So we did what any sensible person would do and gutted our closets, cupboards, nooks and crannies and threw everything into a garage sale! What a good feeling to let go of accumulating junk...I mean, treasures. So between the digging through boxes, pricing and hoping for a good sale I did manage to whip up a batch of these bad boys.
It was also my dad's birthday, I couldn't resist trying out a cookies n' cream frosting especially since I just happened to have a box of my favorite vanilla bean Joe-Joes from Trader Joes on hand. They were quite tasty, but definitely not the star of the show.
To celebrate the whole fam bam got together for some good old-fashioned, hand-cranked ice cream! And this my friends always trumps the cake. And you can thank my Grandpa for that!
This has been a summer tradition in our family ever since I was just a wee thing. It all began with my Grandpa Dale and his love of ice cream. He was a strong man, he battled cancer off and on throughout his life, overcame many life-altering obstacles but never without a smile and witty remarks. We used to have a running joke about an electric ice cream maker vs. the hand-cranked. Thinking back, this may sound a bit cruel and a bit embarrassing on my part....but in my defense I was about 5 years old and wasn't fully aware of the battle my Grandpa was going through with one of his bouts of cancer.
One afternoon he was going to make ice cream but had opted to go the easier route with the electric maker...most likely due to him not feeling super well. Well, then I come along seeing him pour the ice cream contents into the wrong mixer. I turned to him with a grin and said, "what's wrong Grandpa are you a wimp?" Totally joking in my 5 yr old humor and innocence. Well, what one man could have seen as defeat my Grandpa saw with great delight. He could not help but chuckle and slowly turned around to lug out the old and faithful hand-cranked ice cream maker... All along muttering something about the fact that he was no wimp. Needless to say we never EVER saw that electric ice cream maker again. As I sit thinking about my Grandpa I realize that this story sort of symbolizes his entire life, he put up a braver fight than most and proved to his granddaughter and the world that he definitely was no wimp. Ever.
It's hard to not think of my grandpa when we bring out the old churner. He would have loved to see that the tradition was still being carried on....
Even Cole got to help. That used to be my job...but I think I will gladly hand it over to my little boy.
This is what summer is all about, getting the family together. Eating ice cream. Getting a brain freeze. But it's well worth it for that silky smooth goodness. Thank you Grandpa for teaching us about life, love and ice cream. I love you and miss you still. The ice cream will never taste the same without you there to remind us not to stop cranking or the ice cream will go bad. Or to help us count down the last 100 cranks. Or to fight over the beater with ( you always won...although there were many times you shared the glory).
I will happily teach my son how to live life like no wimp. :)