"Homemade Cream, (Ice Cream)  was a treat so special it's hard to put into words....I had heard the grown ups talking bout Strawberry, and Peach and Pineapple....but all I ever remember was Vanilla. Then again if any of the others was better than Vanilla it's likely best I never had em...I probably couldn't have withstood the excitement anyway...Vanilla alone could set me to shaking. The churn was old....I think it most likely came over with the Mayflower, or possibly was here when the ship landed. The wood was stained dark from rock salt, spilled milk, grease for the handle and gears, fingerprints, sitting out in the Pack House year round....you name it. The handle on the crank was slick from use and the stainless steel drum for the mixture was dented and dinged, the gears oily and rusted but she still turned and she still worked her magic. We would sit around like it was a campfire....staring in awe at all that it was....while taking turns with the crank, dropping in ice and rock salt as needed, and waiting....Waiting,...best I can remember it took around 17 hours of continuous cranking, if not it sure seemed like it. We tried to turn it at rpm's that would make a race car proud, but the old folks would make us slow down.."makes better cream when you turn it slow" they would say. "Yeah, but we will die of old age waiting to git some" we would chide back. After what seemed a lifetime, someone would "decide" it was ready. The line that formed to get some was random, but I was nearly grown before I finally figured out being the last to crank also meant being last in line. I would stand there, bowl in hand....hanging by my side in despair, absolutely in misery...just knowing it would run out before I got any. Somehow though magically there was always enough and usually enough for seconds. It was never hard like store bought cream....always a little slushy but it gave you "brain freeze" still....and it was so good...there it goes....the shakes....what did I tell you!