"Grandpa, for the trees with ice cream!"
The resting time, back home, the old man was still, still the car was still ringing, but my kids seem to crave little more now, whereas when we kids were always great, each one a place, only I still sometimes called "for the trees with ice cream."
For my generation, late summer heat that is a cool icecream is considered to heaven. At the same time as boys did, to live in the countryside, refrigerator seems to be a luxury that most kids do not know what it is yet, still have to go buy ice cream what circumstances.
Back then, in my neighborhood there was an old man, still cycling daily carrying behind a cold ice cream bucket full of color that loved his children. Do not use speakers as now, only the shrill tinkling of little bells, though very small, but they're still kids in the neighborhood to be heard: "Ice cream and behold we now". Old bike surrounded by a bunch of kids line, sweating as play, first vacuum holding bare everything to get an ice cream plant. Ice cream of only 500 days is a big tree, but my neighbors kids we rarely use the money to buy, which is essentially the gear. Many things, all sorts of junk, is shoes off, boiler failure, duck feathers, chicken feathers, bottles ... all sorts of styles, but he is still getting out and cut our ice cream. Many times we eat, we also owe the other any more but he still sold as usual. Do not know because we buy used or because the cute kid that when he was a few kilometers further promotion to each other but they won both media Choe late summer.
Ice cream is a simple gift home, simple. At that time only made milk and peanut brittle ran, eat cool the beans greasy, fragrant smell of cow's milk, lick lick your hand to melt in the sun fear, into enough different shapes. There are resources linen scarf kids eat yellow tongue numbing cold fear nor worry just eat fast ROI for your bite theft of several border and we laughed, the other kids do not cry tears.
Neighbors kids I grew up with happy childhood with buffalo cows, with kites, with fields and trees particular to cool ice cream. Now, more modern, more types of ice cream, many kinds of delicious, expensive but still crave the bell's shrill, plants crave ice cream was greasy. The resting time, back home, the old man was still, still the car was still ringing, but my kids seem to crave little more now, whereas when we kids were always great, each one a place, only I still sometimes called "Grandpa, for the trees with ice cream."