I was probably seven or eight
when I got to “work” my first “machine”.
I was intrigued by the gears that moved
when I made the little handle
go “round and round”.
That made the beaters go “round and round”
but the two beaters always missed each other
no matter how fast I made them go.

There was the day when I poured cream into a bowl
and then plunged the beaters into the bowl
at my mother’s instruction.
In the whirl I saw the cream begin to thicken —
and then it thickened some more
until it was whipped just right.
“Add a touch of sugar and beat just a tad more” she said.
When I was done I knew that I had made whip cream
and I was delighted with the new mass.
I tasted it and it was the best taste in the world.

Those days that I made whip cream
and spooned it onto ice cream
still yield delightful memories.

Nowadays the cans with the long stems
that offer whip cream
with a slight press to the right or to the left
are fun to employ.
However, they have made the egg beaters unecessary.
and my grandchildren will never know of the thrill
I still remember.

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