The cows are milked,

The cream separated

Into the stainless steel pails.

The old oak churn is pulled out

From its place in the old summer kitchen.

It is an old oak barrel attached to an electric motor that will cause it to shake and churn the cream

Into the pale golden butterfat we love on our toast.

When it is done, a plug is pulled and the remaining buttermilk is drained and the solid mass of butter moved

To a long wooden table with a grooved wooden roller

 The butter is cranked rolling

  the mass of butter

Over and over to remove the remaining buttermilk

From its pockets and crevices.

Once the milk is gone salt and yellow coloring

are added and the aunts

Crank and crank

And crank some more to be sure

The blending is perfect.

As with all things cooked, it must be tasted.

 One of the aunt tells me she 

Will “grease my gullet”

as she puts a small taste

on my tongue.

Oh yes, the sweet salty perfection.

Now , on to molding and packaging;

Chunks of the yellow confection

Are put into a square box

                       That will emboss it with two 

Sheaves of wheat on opposite corners

And two letter P’s the same.

The back is smoothed with the old

Wooden trowel and when removed

From the mold the perfect block is

Wrapped in parchment and

Packed away in the old chest freezer

To await market day.

The butter may be done for today

 but now it is time to go to the field

and bring the cows in for milking

and so it goes, for tasty goodness

on my toast.

Susan Bergeron

                                  August 12, 2009