We go to the grocery store and pick up a box containing four sticks of butter to use for cooking and baking. It wasn’t always this easy. Not for women like my great-grandmother who lived on a farm!
The cow was milked, cream skimmed from the top and then butter was churned. It wasn’t an easy task when our great, great-grandmother churned butter. There was a rhythm to churning. I saw this on another blog called YesterYear Once More. (Check out the links below.) I don’t know about you but I am thankful for today’s convenience but it would be fun to try churning butter just once. I love singing as I work so this would be twice as fun!
THE CHURNING SONG.
Apron on and dash in hand,
O’er the old churn here I stand —
How the thick cream spurts and flies,
Now on shoes and now in eyes!
Ah! how soon I tired get!
But the butter lingers yet;
Aching back and weary arm,
Quite rob churning of its charm!
See the golden specks appear!
And the churn rings sharp and clear —
Arms, that have to flag begun,
Work on, you will soon be done —
Rich flakes cling to lid and dash;
Hear the thin milk’s watery splash!
Sweetest music to the ear,
For it says the butter’s here!
— Silas Dinsmore, in St Nicholas.
The Daily Northwestern (Oshkosh, Wisconsin) Mar 4, 1899