Several months ago, Mrs. Planet Kirby and I loaded up the truck and moved to Amish Country. That's right. We are now surrounded by the communities of Blue Ball, Bird In Hand, Intercourse and Paradise. Maybe it's just me, but the progression of the names of the towns seems like the early settlers were telling us the remedy for Chronic Prostatitus.
Anyway, the reasons for our move to the heart of Amish Country aren't important for this diatribe. I mean, there is nothing like the joy of driving your freshly washed car through a nice streamy pile of horse manure on a public road when it's 90 degrees outside. And, truth be told, we have tried to acclimate ourselves to the shared culture of the Amish and the English. Yes, the English, that's me and Mrs. Planet Kirby. We've boughten (Amish pronunciation) their produce. We've had them to the Kirbarosa to build our deck. We've shared the roads with their horses, buggy's, scooters and bicycles. We're trying, we really are.
Now at this point, it may seem like I am not so happy with living in Amish Country but that wouldn't be a true statement. We know that God wanted or needed to change our place of blessing and moved us here. I mean, who am I to argue with the Creator of the Universe? Sometimes, I would say that I might be perplexed. I just don't understand the Amish culture so much.
So, today, I took another giant leap into understanding their culture. I went to an Amish Mud Sale. Let's see if I can describe an Amish Mud Sale. It was explained to me that the name is derived from the thawing ground in later winter and early spring. And, yes, it was muddy. The intent is to raise money for the local volunteer fire companies throughout the Amish Communities. These huge events draw thousands of people, where they sell or auction off everything from hand-stitched quilts and crafts to livestock, furniture, produce, baked goods and the like.
As I arrived at the Mud Sale, it appeared to this novice Mud Sale visitor that I had stepped into a land of organized chaos with 6 or 7 auctions going on at once as the Amish and the English mingled together. The countryside was filled buggy's and scooters and the smell of freshly baked Amish delights. Mesmerized by the Mud Sale atmosphere I returned to my English state of mind just in time to side-step a freshly dolloped pile of horse crap. Did I mention how I hate that their horses can crap anywhere and they don't have to pick it up but if our dog drops a dagger anywhere I get fined if I don't bag it?
To say the least, today's Mud Sale was a People Watching Paradise. I love to people watch and today didn't disappoint. Even though I didn't buy anything but a cup of coffee, I saw my first Amish midget, I had an Amish dad and his 2 sons try to cut in front of me in line, and I think I learned a little bit of the Amish language. Yes, they not only speak English, but they speak several versions of Pennsylvania Dutch. I think they do that to confuse us English.
So, what was that snippet of the Amish language that I learned? Well, as I went to pay for my coffee, I asked the Amish lady how much I owed and she replied with something that sounded like, "Du eeger ihn so viel.", and then she pointed to the sign right in front of my face with the price of the coffee. And while I think she said, "You owe this much.", I am more concerned about what she said after I paid and turned to walk way. As I started for the door, I heard her say to the Amish midget, "Du is ganz ab.", which I'm pretty sure is Amish for "Idiot!"
Be Well.
Bill
