After dinner we all lounged around the living room and between watching fireworks on tv, several different attempts were made to make ice cream. Pam had made 2 batches of ice cream mixture. One with goat's milk for her and Stephen and one regular vanilla recipe for the rest of us. She didn't realize that she had to have 2 inserts for the indoor ice cream maker so the rest of the family embarked on the basement adventure to find another way to freeze ice cream. First, there was, "no, no, no...we're not making it." and "just forget it". Then there was Stephen saying, "yes, we're going to make the ice cream." Yes. No. Yes. No. Scramble up and down the stairs. Slamming doors. Squabbling in the kitchen. Me? Yeah, well.. I was camped out on the couch snickering to myself as this drama unfolded. Somehow, I looked up and everyone was gone. Between the kitchen and the front porch, Samson and I were left alone. Oh yeah, and Anna was in her room. It was 9:30 pm when this started.
Out on the front porch, Stephen and Pam were trying to get the electric ice cream maker to work. The motor was making a horrible sound which was making Rick mad and causing the curious dog to investigate, which led to a space debacle. In the whirlwind, the front door was open for a few minutes too long. In those few minutes 2 june bugs and a red flying beetle met their end in the living room. It was determined that the electric maker was a "piece of crap" and "that manufacturer needs to get a phone call". Then came the hand crank mixer. Oh my. I think the crank was broken. Enter drill. Turn, turn, turn. Drill broken. Exit drill. Enter socket set. Socket success! Ice cream failure = milkshakes?
Well...sort of. After all of that, the mixture tasted like the after taste of TUMS or Pepto Bismal. Blech. Everyone else seemed to like it. I guess after all that work, anything would taste good.
Overall, the night was a lot of fun and of course a lot of memories were made.
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| Samson could have cared less that I was taking his picture |










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