For the past 3 weeks I’ve been living a double life. Outside I look like a mild-mannered Iowan going about her business. But inside I’m an intrepid, rookie country school teacher solving mysteries in the wilds of northwest South Dakota. So when I ran across this June 2010 post written after this mild-mannered Iowan, along with my dear friend and fellow Iowan, Cindy, visited the wilds of northwest South Dakota, Chicken Mint instantly became this Fantastic Friday’s flavor of the week!
Ever heard of chicken mint ice cream? I hadn’t either until last weekend when four-year-old Brennen, a cowboy in training, introduced Cindy and me to the delectable treat. The chicken mint discovery occurred after supper, which was after the four-wheeler stunt video, which was after the Uncle Shawn story, which was after the tower demolition, which was after the bike riding demonstration, so maybe I should back up a little.
Brennen and his two-year-old brother Shawn are the grandkids of Gerald and Becky, our Harding County hosts over the weekend. When we arrived Friday, they were at Grandma and Grandpa’s house to greet us, along with their mom Natalie, baby sister Alexis and Grandma Becky. Those two little boys were pretty eager to have company and had planned a plethora of activities for us.
First on the list was Brennen demonstrating his newly acquired bike riding skills. He was pretty sure his ability to ride without training wheels would leave a memorable impression, but Cindy and I were shaking with laughter before he and his tag-along little brother, Shawn headed out the door. Too excited to pay attention to details, Shawn grabbed the first pair of boots available, never mind that they were two sizes too big and came up to his knees. Brennen didn’t even look down as he put his boots on the wrong feet.
“How about you boys stand in front of the door, and I’ll take a picture of you in those fancy boots,” I suggested. The little wranglers were happy to oblige.
I have to admit, Brennen’s bike demonstration was amazing, along with Shawn’s herculean efforts at digging dirt from a pile by the driveway and collapsing dramatically from the effort. But the fun was only beginning. Back inside, the boys showed us how to build a tall tower from blocks and knock it down.
Then Grandma Becky, perhaps in need of a moment of quiet and wanting to pass on the memory of her son who died six years ago, asked me to tell them a story about being their Uncle Shawn’s teacher. They listened intently as I described Shawn at age six taking me for a ride in the pick up to show off the stock tank he’d helped install on the hill in the pasture. He also made me get out to open all the gates on the way there and close them on the way back. When we reached the last gate, he waved and his eyes twinkled as he drove off without me. Grandma Becky said Brennen’s face was deeply thoughtful throughout the story. Perhaps Uncle Shawn’s daring sets a dangerous precedent. Hmm.
Before supper, we watched a four-wheeler stunt video. From what I observed, the interest level of the viewers was in inverse proportion to their ages. It captivated Brennen and Shawn, and the only thing able to drag them away from it to the supper table was the promise of ice cream cones for dessert.
Brennen altruistically volunteered to haul the ice cream containers from the freezer to the ice cream cone box sitting on the counter. “Which kind do you want?” he asked. “We have regular, root beer which is my favorite, and chicken mint.”
“Chicken mint?” Cindy asked.
Brennen held up the box so we could see the picture of a bowl of mint green ice cream flecked with brown. “Chocolate chip mint is hard to say,” Natalie explained.
“I’ll take chicken mint,” we said in unison.
“It’s really good,” our dessert chef approved. He was right. Cindy and I agree it was the best chicken mint ice cream we ever tasted. Who could ask for anything more?
