Making ice cream in Africa meant planning well ahead. It took lots of ice, so we all had to contribute. A pan of ice took up precious space in the tiny freezers of our kerosene fridges. We usually didn’t have cream so used powdered or UHT milk. One time, after a lot of work, we sat down to enjoy our luscious treat. Sadly, we had to throw it away for some of the rock salt had gotten into the milk mixture. As you can see from the photo, it was a team effort. That’s our headmistress Joyce on the left taking her turn at the crank, nurse Edith standing on the machine, and Helena lending a hand. I am on the right with Bretta and the other ladies crushing ice. A lot of work for a few spoons each of ice cream and a fond memory.
Grandpa was a farmer. In the 1800’s he grew wheat where sheep grazed and it was not long before others started to plant grain. He bought land on the other side of the river and planted almond trees. In a few years, the hills came alive with pink blossoms in spring and the town became the “almond capital of the world.”
Dani's Niche 