L ~ Life on the Farm

  Whenever we had gone to my Grandma's surprise birthday party/reunion, I got to play one of my favorite board games again, Life on the Farm.

  Now we do have the same game at home but I had not played it in a very long time because either I had forgotten how fun it was to play, or perhaps it was just fun playing it with cousins I didn't even know existed.

  Anyways, it was after the whole reunion that my Mum brought to light a very hilarious bit of information about my Grandpa concerning that good old fashioned game. It so seems that my Grandpa very dearly abhorred the expense cards that made you kill a cow, or have one run over or shot, etc. So much in fact that one day he took all of those cards out of the deck and stuck them in his pants pockets before playing the game. Then a few days later my Grandma had washed his pants, oblivious to the hidden nightmares inside, and those cards were destroyed never to plague anyone ever again.
 
 Maybe that is why it much more fun playing Life on the Farm at my grandparent's place.

K ~ Keen (As in the Old-Fashioned Saying for Awesome)

    Now, the word keen is not by any means a word in my daily vocabulary, yet for some reason when it came time for me to go about making a blog post I panicked because I had no ideas jotted down for K. In my great distress I tacked on  the first word I could think of.

  Something I think that is very "keen" is the fact that my landlord dropped in today with a terrific treasure that he had brought for me, you might as well hurry and fetch a cup of tea because I'm ready to launch into a little story.

  For some reason all of my tales (or at least the last one I told) begin when I walk past our windows and note some form of suspicious activity on our premises, this one begins just like that.

  Several months ago our landlord promised me a vintage sewing machine and little chest of drawers that his mother used to own, I was ecstatic of course and couldn't wait till he delivered them. Well it turns out that I did indeed have to wait, and wait I did, for a good long time.

  This afternoon I walked past our window and saw his truck parked in front of our porch. I was curious and went outdoors to investigate, I relished the feel of my bare feet pattering against the wooden slats on our porch in the fresh spring air. I ducked my head a bit as I hurried under the rhododendron bush that curled over the stairs in a lovely little arch that is honestly better suited for hobbits. The cool squish of soft ground met my feet as I flew to the truck in sheer delight upon seeing how in the back of his truck he had tied my little vintage sewing machine and chest of drawers.

  In moments he had helped me carry various things into my house (he had brought a big tin of buttons, a bag of bows, and various other items including numerous good quality spools of thread. I was beaming with delight and thanked him profusely. He said he was happy to have made my day and then he left to work with Eldon up in the fields.

  Diane and I hurried and in about twenty minutes we had completely rearranged our room and now we both have our own desks because my little machine cabinet makes a perfect desk that I love. I must say that topped with one of my Grandma's crocheted doilies, my little desk looks as if it could fit perfectly into an Amish girl's room. I love my room even more now, and can't wait to go write in my diary tonight. Usually I would share a picture with you of whatever I yapped about but it's late tonight and I don't quite feel up to doing that task, perhaps on a later date you will all become acquainted with my desk, but till tomorrow, adieu.

F ~ Fun

  When my family and I went to our reunion/ my Grandma's surprise birthday party, I learned something really important about Amish (ex-Amish included) people, is that they truly have the best, most wholesome fun ever.

  Upon arriving at my Grandparent's place (after a six hour drive) I patiently waited for my other relatives to arrive and finally once everyone got there we clustered around in excited groups and the whole group took a collective intake of breath when my Aunt announced that my Grandma's driver had just pulled into the driveway. We heard the door opening and as soon as her face appeared everyone shouted surprise and happy birthday. First off my Grandma screamed (it was always a favorite past time of all her grandchildren to startle her since it was so easy) and then she was speechless for the longest time. It was so fun watching my Grandma surrounded by all of her family. Quite frankly I felt very proud of my extended family and for some strange reason it delighted me very much how we had our own audience, everyone laughed at the same time, murmured at the same time, etc.

  Anyways, (still persistent here with the use of the word anyways) afterwards all my cousins and I spent the whole day playing board games, volley ball, dutch blitz, verbal games, you name it, I was absolutely delighted with how I was finally surrounded by a bunch of people who knew how to have honest to goodness fun without the help of any technology.

  I left the reunion feeling very happy, tired, and extraordinarily determined to play dutch blitz frequently when I got home, because I honestly didn't know the definition of speed till I played games with them.

Asparagus

    These past few days I have been reflecting back on the A-Z challenge I had participated in. and decided to review my blogging idea list for the challenge to see the options I never wrote about and today I decided it was time I delve into it and choose one of them to share here.

  When I was a very young girl, (I'm guessing anywhere from 3-5) My parents had needed someone to babysit me and so after one of my relatives agreed I was dropped off at their home and my parents went to wherever it was that they were going.

  The relatives in question were very nice and caring people, and I always had fun around them, except for the time I am now telling you about.

  Though I don't remember a single other thing from that day, I vividly remember lunch. There we were, all seated around the table in their sunny dining room. My bare feet were swinging merrily under the wooden table. After bowing our heads in silence for grace, my dear Aunt got up and went about preparing my lunch. She placed a small dish in front of me. I timidly scooched forward in my chair and peered into the little dish. Whatever name grownups might have for the grayish green glop that resided in that dish hardly did it justice. I wrinkled up nose and stubbornly refused to take a single bite of whatever that earthly abomination was.

  My Aunt, though quite pleasant and kind would not tolerate me not eating my food so she rose from the table and hovered over me and told me quietly but firmly that I had to eat at least one bite. Quite grumpily I took one small bite and almost keeled over at how horrendous it tasted. "It's asparagus, it's good for you" she coaxed further to absolutely no avail.

  Seeing she couldn't get me to eat any more of it she removed my dish and scurried off to the kitchen. When she returned I was even more horrified. She had taken that glop of canned, mushy asparagus and stirred a bunch of crumbled crackers into it and mashed everything together. The moment she said I'm supposed to eat it now I knew there was no hope left for me and I was left to do nothing but shove spoonful after spoonful of awful, dripping with slime asparagus and cracker blobs into my mouth.

  Even though that day was so dark to me back then, the memory now serves to only bring a smile to my face. But, if I have to be completely honest I have to say that to this very day I can't stand asparagus, whether it's roasted, grilled, fried, and especially canned.

Awkward Shopping Experience

  There are a number of Amish stores in our area. We don't visit them often, but occasionally my Mom needs something not available in normal stores. When that happens she will drive to the store and then stay in the van while either my brother Eldon or I go in to buy what ever it is she needed. (It's all part of growing up in a family where the parents are being shunned by the Amish.)

  The following is the account of the first time I was the one responsible for doing the purchasing:

  Last summer we made frequent visits to a little Amish store where we would proceed to buy fresh fruit and vegetables. One particular time I was sent to go do the buying of a broom, peaches, and corn. I took a deep breath, straightened my skirt, and stepped right out into the unknown depths of awkwardness.

  I looked around searching for someone to help with my purchasing. My eyes found nothing and quietness almost deafened me. A movement caught my eye and I found a woman in a produce shed arranging boxes. "I would like a broom" I said, awkwardly approaching her. She eyed me strangely and then started walking to a tiny trailer. I followed her, just happy to have something to do. Inside, the trailer smelled like dust and old jello. She led me towards a bin of brooms and asked "Which one." I smiled and went for a purple broom. This was easy. Gaining confidence with every step I told her I would like half a peck of peaches. Once again I was inclined to follow her as she silently the way.

  Once inside of her produce shed I was left to hold my broom and inspect their ceiling as she quietly counted peach after peach into a bag. My eyes grew bigger and bigger as one after another peach filled a bulging paper bag. She straightened up and handed the heavy bag to me. Grimacing I took the bag thinking it was going to burst any minute spewing peaches all over the floor and my pride. "And 2 dozen corn" I said concentrating on carrying my awkward load.

  This time she led me outdoors towards where my Mom's minivan was parked. I ignored my family's snickering faces and followed her to a massive bin of corn where she proceeded to fill bag after bag of corn. I shifted my broom, shoving it under my arm and hoisted my bag of peaches to try and make room for all those bags of corn. She eyed my load uncertainly then heaped the bags of corn into my hands too. Then she stood there looking at her feet while she waited for me to pay her. Obviously I wasn't in any position to get my wallet and pay her at the moment so I struggled and dragged, clanged, huffed, and stumbled my way over to the trunk of my Mom's minivan where I disposed of my load.

  Drawing up the last scraps of what was left of my dignity I took my wallet and sheepishly paid her. She counted the money and nodded towards me and we both went our separate ways.

  Finally I was free to collapse into the minivan where I was bombarded with supportive snickers and outright laughter. My only comfort was that she had been every bit as uncomfortable as I had been.