What to do with a quart of heavy cream???

There’s nothing like 6 days and 5 nights with two very active teenagers to find yourself doing lots of things you normally wouldn’t do.   This past Christmas we gave our young neighbors a ‘child care’ certificate redeemable at the time of their choosing so they could get away for a short trip.  They live in Chicago, so we only get to see them on occasional weekends.  Mom and dad waited until school was out, then jetted off to NYC to celebrate their anniversary.  Since their families live in Eastern Europe, this was a much needed, long overdue respite.  For them at least.  For us, it was a fun, fast paced, dare I say exhausting reminder of how old we really are, or at least how old we really feel. 

Naturally we had similar schedules and demands while raising our family…..but that was a life time ago, when we were a lot younger and recovered faster.  I can’t remember a time in the past decade that I ran the dishwasher more, cooked more, or did more laundry.....in between playing.  Don't misunderstand... both were very respectful and helpful with chores, making their beds daily, clearing plates from the table after each meal and helping with a myriad of things that needed attention, including……

Did I mention this deal included a sweet 7 pound Yorkie named Buddy?  His only detriment was the ease and consistency at which he could disappear behind a small shrub throwing all of us into panic.  During one of our afternoon fishing times, Buddy skipped freely back and forth around the pond, enticed by the fish to wade deep beyond the algae ringed edge.  Suddenly he selected the most inopportune place to hurl himself into the water becoming tangled with a fishing pole line and lures with hooks almost his size.  He’s fine, but to my regret, the kids stood paralyzed as they heard me swear (sh_ _) for the very first time ever, out of complete fear that Buddy was hurt and would need to see a Vet if I could not free him from the mess he’d gotten himself into.  I apologized to both immediately once we removed hair by hair from the hook, and the danger had passed, explaining my bad behavior as simply lack of control.  In the end, Buddy found himself in a warm shampoo and bath followed by a cocoon wrap, cool blow drying and lots of brushing, pampering and baby talk.  He lapped it up. Perhaps he hurled himself in on purpose??

So we spent our time fishing, archery matches, badminton, and some new game that resembles Frisbee golf.  Saturday morning we girls went to my quilt group. They went to garage sales. They taught us to play poker.  Yes, you read right.  We went to church Sunday.  We went high tech bowling (which to us means auto scoring rather than a pencil and blank score card).  I looked hysterical bowling with a cane.  You won’t see those pictures! We showed them the grand Silver Lake Dunes via Mac Woods dune buggy rides. They walked 130 steps up Little Sable Point Lighthouse in order to get a sticker that said they walked 130 steps, then a quick stop at Country Dairy, the best little dairy in Michigan to pick up the best ice cream in Michigan. We emptied the dishwasher 7 times, prepared 18 meals plus snacks, baked birthday cake for Gary, and collapsed into bed around 10:30 each night, us exhausted, them ready for round three or four. 

As make-shift grandparents, we took our responsibilities seriously.  Aside from my momentary verbal swearing, we shared lots of life lessons and wisdom.  I’m not exactly sure how, but at some point we discussed heavy cream, then whipping cream, and finally butter.   Perhaps this came from our trip to Country Dairy.  In this high tech digital age most kids barely know where their food comes from, let alone steps to the store shelf and finally their home.  These kids know alot about food sources, but Sunday after church provided a perfect opportunity for a new lesson.  We were making brunch.  The kids asked if they could have whipped cream on their waffles.  Of course!  I grabbed a quart of organic heavy whipping cream from the frig and hauled out the Kitchenaid stand mixer.  We whipped the liquid until soft peaks formed, then carefully scooped a sizeable bowl for waffles, adding a touch of vanilla. We returned the remaining whipped cream and bowl and continued whipping.  This is the point you need to watch very closely, as it becomes thicker and slightly yellowish.  Watery like milk begins to splatter so we cover the mixer with a towel.  Voila!  Before you know it the butter solids have separated from the liquid whey, and you have amazing butter.  Next we added a dash of salt, then scrapped the thickened mixture into toweling, gently squeezing the remaining liquid forming a soft ball of fresh butter……handcrafted, fresh, whole organic butter, with no scary ingredients that you can’t pronounce.  I explained the only difference between our butter and our colonial ancestors was a wooden churn, a paddle, an full afternoon and sore arms.  A wonderful lesson they both enjoyed figuratively and literally. And, like any quilter worth her salt, I connected this into a lesson about quilt patterns, noting the CHURN DASH pattern which originated between 1800-1849, was named because the center rectangle resembled the butter churn and triangle corners to the dash, or paddle.  Never too busy to think about quilting!