June 17, 2006 - Saturday | 2:06 AM, CST Kelly and I just got back from a long walk around the dark streets of Sheldon. Tonight was the perfect night too, with the temperature just right and the air cool and still. It reminded me of the old days when we spent our summer nights in Gary's pop-up camper. After a few hours of snacks, Magic, hide and seek, and some pyrotechnics with a mangled citronella candle, we typically walked through town (usually in stealth mode) to partake in mischief. Actually, I think the thrill of doing something we weren't supposed to do, and the challenge of not getting caught was what drove us the most, but the atmosphere of course is not to be discounted. Kelly did the same thing around that age, so when we walk around, we usually spend the entire time telling each other of all the fun things we did when we were younger and enjoyed sneaking out for the night.
Ohio was a lot of fun. I wish I could have stayed longer, but I decided to come home a day early to have a little extra time to study for my EMT state test which was scheduled today in Chicago. My instructor, however, called this afternoon and informed me the test had been cancelled. This would have been much nicer to know before I left Ohio a day early, but he had just learned himself, so I can't blame him. I don't have any problem blaming the Illinois Department of Public Health for their inept abilities at constructing and organizing the tests. What a blatant waste of our tax dollars. Anyway, back to my vacation. On Monday, I took Kelly to Indiana Beach. I would say that throughout the day, we probably had to wait less than five minutes in any given line. The park was only sparsely visited, so we had our choice on whatever we wanted to ride. We didn't stay as long as I'd have liked under normal circumstances, but facing a seven hour drive in the morning I decided it'd be best to leave the amusement park a bit early. The drive to Ohio was largely uneventful. I had never driven the route before, and since I find online directions to be relatively useless, I used my tried and true navigation method of simply purchasing a road map and plotting my course from that. Although Kelly can't read a map, I did well enough as driver / navigator. I only took a few wrong turns, which I blame on the highway designers who decided that placing an onramp a hundred feet before my exit would have been a good idea. Given the option between missing my exit and being crushed by three oncoming tractor trailers, I chose the detour. We checked into the Troyer Haus Bed and Breakfast at around seven our time. I had never stayed in a bed and breakfast before, and found it an interesting experience. I was unaware that a bed and breakfast is actually someone's personal house, with one or more rooms available to be rented to visitors. I was fascinated by this, because I found it Tolkienesque to be staying in another person's house for the night. Almost like an inn from the days of yore. Perfect for a soul infected with the wanderlust, as Andy might phrase it. I think Kelly was a little uncomfortable during our stay, and I must admit that I thought I would be as well. I don't typically enjoy being in such close quarters with strangers, but sometimes I get an adventure bug in me and will seek out and converse with anyone I see. This was one of those instances, and I had several long conversations with our hosts. I found them cheerful and helpful at recommending area attractions. If you're in the Kidron area, give them a visit, you'll find a bed and breakfast a romantic and less expensive alternative to any hotel. After settling in for the night, we still had a few hours of daylight. Although all the area shops were closed, we chose to take a walk down the block to the Lehman's hardware store. This store was one of the main reasons I had chosen this area as my vacation destination, due to their large showroom of wood-burning stoves. As I said, they were closed, but outside the store they had on display a working, antique British telephone booth. We ate dinner that night at the Amish Door restaurant, and I was very impressed by not only the friendly service and excellent homemade food, but by the fact that the waitresses didn't wear dirty white t-shirts and baggy black pants as they do around here. Even the non-Amish girls had on crisp clean white dresses. The carpets were clean and the restaurant itself was well cared for. The prices were similiar to restaurants of this area, so I wouldn't attribute it to the fact that it was a "fancier" place to eat. The hardware store was, without a doubt, the coolest place to shop I've ever seen. Think: Amish Wal-Mart. They had bins of handmade nails, an area the size of a house filled with wood burning stove displays. All sorts of old fashioned gadgets that most people would probably think didn't even exist. I purchased an oil lantern, a cast iron pizza pan, and a twelve pound maul. I found the displays on wood burning stoves to be incredibly informative. Most certainly I will have to go again, even if my sole purpose is to visit this store. I'd be willing to bet that Zach would do well to visit one day. Once we were finished shopping, we were free to enjoy some of the area attractions. A little stand next door was selling ice cream made outside with an old hit-and-miss engine. Even better, when I attempted to pay, he wouldn't accept my money, reasoning "The first ice cream of the day is always free. That way you start the day off right." A wonderful surprise, especially considering the ice cream was delicious! Kelly didn't really care for the taste, but I believe I like the homemade ice cream much better than the store bought variety. It seems to have a much creamier taste, which suited me fine because I developed a sore throat while vacationing. Among the area attractions we visited on our second day was a shop selling homemade cheeses. Most importantly, I believe I discovered an underground sect, "sleeper cell" if you will, of Mouselim fundamentalists. Submitted for your consideration: this eight foot tall mouse statue. Coincidence? Perhaps. The cheese shop also sold honey. And not just any honey, but the kind still in the comb! Being a bit of a honey lover, I had to try some. I asked what was the appropriate way to eat a honey comb, and they said you just bite off a piece and chew. Apparently the comb itself is edible, but when I tried a bite I found it similiar to the parafin-style candies you can buy that contain juice. You know the ones I'm talking about? The honey was delicious, but I chose to spit the remainder of the comb into the trash. We took a tour of an Amish farm that had been restored and opened to the public. We got to ride in an actual carriage, which surprisingly, is a much smoother ride than you might think. Here is a photo of the carriage itself, and here is a photo from the inside while we were riding. I'd have taken a picture of the Amish man who drove us, but they refuse to pose for pictures since it would be considered a "graven image." Quite a no-no in Amish culture. One thing I will say about Amish culture... I think it is fascinating. They don't let their older people go to nursing homes, because the children and grand-children take care of them. They don't accept welfare. They don't carry medical insurance because if one of them accrues a large medical bill, everyone in the community helps pay. They don't place lightning rods on their barns because to do so would be a lack of faith in God. Etc. etc. Yet, if you leave the Amish church, they do what is called "The Shunning." To your friends and even your relatives, you no longer exist. If you own a business, you will no longer be patronized by Amish customers. Now, I may not know a lot about religion, but to me, that doesn't seem like a very Christian attitude. Just my opinion. Also at the farm, I got to chase baby ducks around, and take some pictures of an Amish cemetery. We stopped at a blacksmith's forge shortly before dinner, and I saw the most exquisitely carved fireplace mantle of oak-leaf vines. Also, the Smuckers company got its start in one of the neighboring towns. They had a store there to sell everything Smuckers makes. I had thrown around the idea of staying at a chain hotel in the area, but that all changed when we saw "The Inn at Amish Door." Here are some pictures:
Picture 1: A front view of the inn. We left for Illinois the next morning. On our way back, I followed some hand written signs that advertised maple syrup. As I pulled up the dusty lane, I saw an Amish farmer working in his field with a team of three draft horses. I asked him if this was the place to purchase the syrup, and he told me to go up to the house (which, Kelly noted, had no power wires leading to it), and he'd be there shortly. When I got to the house, there were three Amish children sitting on the porch playing. None of them looked to be much older than about five years old. "Hello. Are you guys the syrup salesmen?" I asked. The children simply smiled. At this point, a frazzled-looking Amish woman came out of the house, and I asked her if I could have some syrup. In a thick German accent (the Amish speak German at home, also, their Bibles are written in German), she told me to go around to the back and she'd let me into the basement. When I got to the back, I saw a door open and went to go inside. Out came an Amish girl of no more than ten years old, who looked frightened to death to see a huge sinful Englishman attempting to enter her home. "Hello! Your mom told me to come to the basement for syrup..." I said trying to erase some of the surprise from her eyes. She seemed to relax, because she opened the basement door and let me inside. The Amish woman was there, "Deet you speek to the cheeldren on the porch?" she asked. "Yes." "Ohh, well, theay doon't speek Eenglish yet, so thats why theay didn't answer." "Thats ok, I understood the smiles." She seemed to be ill at ease, so I asked some general questions about the syrup-making process to get her to relax. I made my selections, and she told me my totals. "Okay, that weel be eeleven dollars." I handed her a twenty "Okay... so... I owe you... nine dollars." I remembered at this point that they only receive an eighth grade education, so I wasn't rude like I would have been to the average McDonalds cashier. "Yes, thats right." She brought in a wallet, hurriedly counted out some bills, and thrust them into my hands. "'Ere you go. Kount it too make sure." "Yes, this is correct. Auf wiedersehen! (German for 'good-bye')" I walked out to my car, and looked at the children still sitting on the porch. "Auf wiedersehen!" I called out to them. They smiled, but said nothing. The Amish farmer was working on his plow, and he called out "Now don't eeat it all on the way home!" I assured him I wouldn't, and waved goodbye. And now, for my favorite picture and the best reason why I love the Amish:
And, as promised from my previous journal entry, here is the picture of my neck wound I received from playing paintball a few weeks back. I can still see the faint outline from where the paintball hit me, but it is healing quickly.
|
|
