To Every Season, Churn, Churn, Churn

 Sarah, (the one whose cow had the baby last week), gave me some milk from the cow.  I wanted to make butter.  We made butter at the co-op preschool I took Rob to.  Rob is 40 something. (I could figure it out but I am too busy.)  AN-y-way, The little kids, and mostly we moms, shook a little cream in baby food jars until it turned into a little ball of butter.

 I decided to use my blender.  Easier.  I sucked the cream off the top with my trusty turkey baster, and put it into the blender.  I ran that machine until it was hot.  Still cream.

 SO. I put it into a jar and began to shake it.  Not like a polaroid picture, but more like a shake weight (as seen on TV.)  I passed it off to the hubby.  He shook it for a while and tagged me back.  I shook it some more.  When I started to wonder if money for cab fare was going to pop out, (Don't ask. It's a South Park reference.) I put it back into the fridge.

When I took it out, it looked lumpy.  I shook it a while longer and scooped it out.  It wasn't a rectangular cube, but it was yellow!  I salted it.  I haven't had the nerve to try it yet, but I will.

Here is the thing I got out of today's lesson.  Thank all that is good for Costco and those big blue packages of butter they offer for sale.  Opening the big glass door and grabbing one of them is much easier. 

Maybe the Good Old Days weren't so good.