Sweet Rewards

I was reading through one of Mom's posts this afternoon. It was one of those lazy Saturday afternoons, where the main jobs for the day had either been done, or been set to another day. I did some major maintenance on the farm, and some clean-up and dirt work to get ready for winter , as well as preparing for next spring's gardening. My other project needs one more good rain to help settle in some dirt where we are going to move the shed, so that I can start building Michelle's Dress Shop.

I didn't really have any other major projects ( don't know how that happened), so I sat and watched some football with Ian and Ben. Mostly I watched, they slept on the couch. Then I thought I would come look at some more of my family's blogs. It is their fault, you know, that I am even doing this.

I really enjoyed Mom's post about peaches and apricots. It did bring back a lot of fond memories. Those were some amazing production lines, and we sure enjoyed the fruits of our labor. But Mom forgot to mention one of the favorite results of those hot summer work days. Home made ice-cream. Naturally flavored peach and apricot.

My family has a long and close friendship with ice-cream. I don't remember specific events as a small infant, but we do have some pictures of my brother David with an ice-cream on his nose. I can only assume that I have a similar relationship with that cold and wonderful treat. Those summer trips to Utah were always highlighted by the fruit canning, the large amounts of fresh fruit and heavy cream, and the home-made cold gold.

I guess Mom is right, like always. We did learn to work. And we even learned that there is joy in work, as well as satisfaction in a job well done and a reward honestly earned. When we traveled to Toquerville, just north-ish of St.George, Utah, we had great examples. My grandparents were farmers, as far as I knew at the time. My Grandpa had been a school teacher, and they had always enhanced that career with whatever they could produce for themselves. In Utah they had a small farm (probably 15-20 acres?), and they kept cows, chickens, and fruit trees. They also had a big garden, which they planted near the house and watched with great care and energy. As a kid it always amazed me how much they could work, considering how old they were. It was just expected that anyone there would help in the garden, in the kitchen, and out in the orchard when needed. I loved spending time with my Grandpa and Grandma, so I think that helped make the work enjoyable.

I also saw the satisfaction they had when the work was done. That's why I would beg to have Grandpa wake me at 4 am to help drive the cows down to the milking barn, where he and my father would teach me how to milk a cow, without spilling a drop. They taught me the importance of treating the animal with care and gentleness, and we had many conversations about important personal and spiritual things. At least that's what my memory says. I couldn't tell you a single specific topic, but I know those early morning milking efforts were more than just a chore. we would then cart the big milk cans up to the house, where we would help grandparents get them strained and into jars for refrigeration. We repeated this process again at 4 pm. Later we would enjoy fresh whole milk with every meal, and that wonderful sweet,rich cream poured generously over piles of that fresh fruit.

The only way to make it better was to make it ice-cream. And even that was work, but boy was it worth it!! Mom and Grandma would work together to prepare the cream and fruit mixture, or vanilla or occasionally chocolate. Dad and Grandpa and usually all the kids would get out the big freezer. This was not one of these namby-pamby 1 1/2 qt. electric jobs. These were the big boys! 5+ qt. canister, hardwood barrel type, hand-cranked freezer. Oh, yeah. And I think Grandpa had 2 of them! Once the goods were in the machine, Dad and Grandpa would start cranking. We all took turns, and as we got older, the boys would make a contest out of who could make the last few turns. (As ice-cream freezes, you know, it gets harder to turn). Then we would line up to sample as Dad took out the dasher, and buzz with anticipation and kid frustration as he closed it, covered it, and buried it in more ice and salt, for the curing process. Dinner came first, with all it's preparation and clean-up.

Looking back, what a lesson I learned from ice-cream! We worked many long and hard hours, sometimes messy, sometimes even "gross", and it was all for something that would have to wait til later. It wasn't unpleasant. It wasn't even unfair. It was just the nature of good things. Work before rewards. Rewards less important than satisfaction in a job well done. Job well done, no matter what! Now, can I have two monster sized scoops, please. Both flavors!