TWENTY-TWO RUSTING, DISGUSTING TRAILER HOMES, ELEVEN ON EACH SIDE OF "LOVER'S LANE COURT" (CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?) BEHIND THE BARELY HANGING-ON FRONT DOOR OF EACH IS A STORY; IN THE DAYS TO COME I WILL TELL THEIR SORTED TALES.

Monday, June 1, 2015

PEACH ICE CREAM FOR MOTHER

There are many of you still out there that will smile and have fond memories of your own when I mention the old Render Hill Peach Orchards, in Gay, Ga.  For many years during my youth, Sen. Hill was a legend and larger than life in those rural days. I do not know much about his political career other than Daddy thought he was Gold and that was good enough for me.
But back to the peaches. Mother loved fresh peach ice cream and as you know, back in those days fruits and vegetables were seasonal, no going to the supermarket and buying anything you wanted any time of the year.
As I write this, it seems that that made it all the better. Having to wait for just the right time to get to go to the orchard and pick tree ripened peaches that could not wait another day to be harvested. The fact that you could eat all the peaches that you wanted while you were in the orchard and only pay for the ones you brought through the gate made Mr. Hill an even bigger giant in my eyes.
We would all load up in that 1952 Chevy in the middle of summer, roll the windows down and hope to catch a breeze. It seemed like hours to get there, but was actually less than 45 minutes. We kids would get out and start 'pickin' and eatin' as soon as we went through the gates. We would have juice running down both arms and dripping of both elbows. Mother would always thoughtfully pack wet wash cloths and water to drink.
Back home, we would set the hand cranked ice cream freezer at the end of the high porch so that the salty water would run off the edge. I never saw an electric freezer until I bought one as an adult, years later.
You know the kind we had, like every one else in Hogansville, with the exception of probably Mr. Hines at the Bank. It was a cedar bucket with the galvanized drum. The crank system was cast iron with either a red or green wooden handle. It took hardly any time at all to freeze the contents into ice cream, but it seems like it took forever for it to 'ripen', or get hard all the way through the canister.
The kids would usually wonder off(but not too far) into the front yard to play during the waiting period. When it was announced that the ice cream was ready, we would each grab a bowl and spoon and get ready for a Summer treat.
The first bowl always, ALWAYS, was dipped by Daddy and went to Mother. She would take a spoonful and the look on her face told it all.

No, we never had homemade peach ice cream on Mother's Day(way too early in the year), but every time we made ice cream, it was like Mother's Day, because Daddy always gave her royal treatment.

Just another thought about my Mother on this day.