Young's

I could count on one hand--probably on two or three fingers, at most--the number of times that I've made a trip back to Ohio and not gone to Young's Jersey Dairy. I even remember going at Christmas once (when they had some cinnamon ice cream that Doug thought was very cool). The day that we picked for this excursion, by mischance, happened to be the day of the Yellow Springs street fair, and the place was packed. There was a line going out the door. Fortunately we didn't have to wait too long, as someone came back and told us that we could order ice cream at the food counter, which we did.



We went outside to eat. Kate and I shared some strawberry and French vanilla. Yum!



Elizabeth enjoyed feeding herself some ice cream...



... with golf ball on the side.



Hazel got to try a little. Too cold!



After the ice cream, we went into the barn to see the animals.





This must be why they tell you to wash your hands after visiting the barn.



Feeding the goats outside.



Kirsten was having a good time too!




They had this little ride--a train of oil-drum cars pulled by a tractor. Kate and Elizabeth both got to go on it.





They went out into the field, and even went through a big pipe-tunnel twice. When they got back, Peter said, "Wow, that ride was four-and-a-half minutes long. That's like The Beast!"



Barb watches.



Doug!



Me and Andy (on grandma's camera).



We had some fun with these cutouts.





Karen, Elizabeth, and Peter.



Playing with Daddy's hat.



Ice cream, animals, and fun! A good time was had by all.

Young's Jersey Dairy

Young's in Yellow Springs is one of those great little places that gets mentioned in roadside tour guides. Actually it's not a little place anymore at all. It used to be little.



We took Kate to see the goats. Not for long, because they seemed determined to eat the stroller. It wasn't our stroller, after all, it was one my mom borrowed from someone. Can't have goats eating a borrowed stroller.

I should mention that they do have cows at this place, too. Jersey cows. We have this running joke with my dad, who grew up on a Guernsey farm in Illinois. We'll say, "Look at that cow, Dad, isn't it beautiful?" and he'll say, "No, it's a Jersey!" I didn't get any pictures of the cows this time, though.



After the goats comes the ice cream (not necessarily in that order, but usually). Doug got cinnamon and black walnut. I got peaches and cream, and strawberry. (Doug is a connoisseur of unusual flavors--there's a company in Seattle that makes a lavender flavored ice cream that he gets a kick out of. And yes, I did have to look up how to spell "connoisseur").



Here Kate goes after Doug's ice cream...



...and gets a little taste (just the cinnamon, not the walnut). Yum!

I pretty much don't eat sugar, since it makes me tired and cranky (I tell people that if I eat sugar I burst into tears and then fall asleep), but a little ice cream on very rare occasions is a special treat, and Young's is probably worth a little crankiness.