Homemade Ice Cream And Adultery
I’m noticing firework ads, grass fire warnings, and lots of soda give-a-ways. Must be time for July 4!
I teach Social Studies to sixth graders, and as we travel the world in our textbook we try to notice dates of independence days in different countries. They think that is pretty cool until we talk of countries that are predominantly Islamic and I explain their calendars do not have 2003 on them because they are about 1400 years different than ours. But that’s another story.
Traditions for independence days vary greatly, and China is a favorite of students since the holiday lasts so long and they love the huge dragon dance where two or three people are inside carrying the large paper dragons and dancing in the streets. And while that’s awesome, I notice that no other country shares our affection for…
...homemade ice cream.
You can talk freedom from the tyranny of Britain all you like. Put on a pedestal the idea of “liberty or death” and honor it at your house. Frame the picture of Washington crossing the Delaware and display it in your living room. Take out a personal loan and buy more fireworks than anybody on your block to make your own meteor shower.
But while all of these things are important, don’t forget what thousands of citizens gave their life for - the chance for you and me to have a holiday to crank on the handle of an ice cream freezer.
(An entire article could be written here on the main advantage of technological progress - that being the invention of the electric ice cream freezer - but that will have to wait.)
I have heard science teachers explain it. I have seen animated cartoons that try to make me understand. I have looked into the depths of the churning ice myself, but I still have no clue how pouring rock salt (not country and western salt, not jazz salt, and not blues salt, mind you!) into a pile of ice and cranking on a handle makes a bunch of eggs, milk, and sugar transform into a dish that actually beats out chocolate as the world’s best food.
Which brings me to my next point - adultery. Who in their right mind started messing up homemade ice cream by putting in bananas and pecans? Why adulterate what God has already made so wonderful?
At an ice cream social of, say, a dozen freezers, a good citizen such as myself honors those who have fallen on the field of battle long ago. I try to eat a separate bowl in honor of each fallen soldier (an undertaking of no small accomplishment because history books state plainly how lots of soldiers died from infection and not from muskets that couldn’t shoot straight despite what Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett could do on the ole TV shows).
Going down the line perusing the dozen freezers, though, brings out the worst kind of sin - people have put in peppermint chips and peaches! Each of these foods, along with bananas and pecans, are fine in their own entity, but cows have worked so hard to produce this milk product only to have it messed up by those who obviously have not talked to any soldiers who died fighting the British.
Try handing one of the Minutemen a bowl of homemade butter-pecan ice cream and you would have had your hide stretched to tan on the nearest tree! Any good American knows that black cows give chocolate milk and other cows give white milk so homemade ice cream must be either chocolate or vanilla.
And, you have to be able to hold the spoon with either hand in case your cranking hand gets a blister from the handle. No injury should prevent you from enjoying the pursuit of happiness so many died trying to get for you.
I teach Social Studies to sixth graders, and as we travel the world in our textbook we try to notice dates of independence days in different countries. They think that is pretty cool until we talk of countries that are predominantly Islamic and I explain their calendars do not have 2003 on them because they are about 1400 years different than ours. But that’s another story.
Traditions for independence days vary greatly, and China is a favorite of students since the holiday lasts so long and they love the huge dragon dance where two or three people are inside carrying the large paper dragons and dancing in the streets. And while that’s awesome, I notice that no other country shares our affection for…
...homemade ice cream.
You can talk freedom from the tyranny of Britain all you like. Put on a pedestal the idea of “liberty or death” and honor it at your house. Frame the picture of Washington crossing the Delaware and display it in your living room. Take out a personal loan and buy more fireworks than anybody on your block to make your own meteor shower.
But while all of these things are important, don’t forget what thousands of citizens gave their life for - the chance for you and me to have a holiday to crank on the handle of an ice cream freezer.
(An entire article could be written here on the main advantage of technological progress - that being the invention of the electric ice cream freezer - but that will have to wait.)
I have heard science teachers explain it. I have seen animated cartoons that try to make me understand. I have looked into the depths of the churning ice myself, but I still have no clue how pouring rock salt (not country and western salt, not jazz salt, and not blues salt, mind you!) into a pile of ice and cranking on a handle makes a bunch of eggs, milk, and sugar transform into a dish that actually beats out chocolate as the world’s best food.
Which brings me to my next point - adultery. Who in their right mind started messing up homemade ice cream by putting in bananas and pecans? Why adulterate what God has already made so wonderful?
At an ice cream social of, say, a dozen freezers, a good citizen such as myself honors those who have fallen on the field of battle long ago. I try to eat a separate bowl in honor of each fallen soldier (an undertaking of no small accomplishment because history books state plainly how lots of soldiers died from infection and not from muskets that couldn’t shoot straight despite what Daniel Boone and Davy Crockett could do on the ole TV shows).
Going down the line perusing the dozen freezers, though, brings out the worst kind of sin - people have put in peppermint chips and peaches! Each of these foods, along with bananas and pecans, are fine in their own entity, but cows have worked so hard to produce this milk product only to have it messed up by those who obviously have not talked to any soldiers who died fighting the British.
Try handing one of the Minutemen a bowl of homemade butter-pecan ice cream and you would have had your hide stretched to tan on the nearest tree! Any good American knows that black cows give chocolate milk and other cows give white milk so homemade ice cream must be either chocolate or vanilla.
And, you have to be able to hold the spoon with either hand in case your cranking hand gets a blister from the handle. No injury should prevent you from enjoying the pursuit of happiness so many died trying to get for you.