Amish Country Journal

Construction Progress

2009-08-13T11:46:00.000-04:00

The new Erb's Tarp Shop has sprung (literally) from the ashes of the old.

Maybe they could call it Erb's Phoenix Tarp Shop. Some of the old building was recycled but a sizeable pile of debris was burned before the new shop foundation could be poured.

In two weeks time (as predicted in this column) the new building was up, sheeted-in and roofed. Today the heating system (in-floor hot water) is in and interior work is approaching completion. David Miller and family will be moving operations from their temporary location in the family workshop, back across 515 to the new building in another few weeks.

By contrast . . . the new covered bridge (alongside Rt. 39 between Carlisle Printing and Walnut Creek Cheese) couldn't move much slower. The question has become, "D'ya think they'll finish it in the year 2009"?

Tower Of Babel or Babble?

2009-08-05T12:05:00.001-04:00

We've replaced the TV tower on Indiantree Hill!

The old one, 25-ft. tall, was way beyond shaky. Had it not been for support cables strung up a couple years ago, it would have collapsed in anything beyond a mild breeze.

So we did it right. Engineered a hinge to allow the new tower to be lowered for repair, maintenance, painting etc. and purchased four, 10-ft. sections with a 10-ft. pipe extension on top.

A four-ft. heavy-wall section was buried in concrete and all sections were painted, inside and out. Then, after final assembly, the massive tower was laid out on the lawn and a long rope was threaded from its midsection through a wooden, 100-year-old hayloft pulley on the garage gable, to our garden tractor.

Slowly, with expert family guidance, the tower raised - like a YouTube-era Viagra ad - to its full and upright position.

Alan, the family electrical expert, ran the wires and made the connections . . . and it all worked splendedly! We pull in at least 31 channels and I think they're all high-definition. The picture on all channels certainly is crystal clear and definitely is the best direct-broadcast reception ever, for Indiantree Hill.

But . . . there's a downside.

There's still nothing worth watching. We've surfed the channels repeatedly and reached the same conclusion ("ho-hum") each time.

Maybe we've built a latter-day "Tower Of Babel" . . .

. . . or "Tower Of Babble."

Two-Wheel Weekend

2009-07-27T22:34:00.000-04:00

Vintage Motorcycle Days is a three-day exercise in two-wheel euphoria. Tens of thousands of motorcyclists from across this continent and beyond, converge on Mid-Ohio Sports Car Course near Mansfield, Ohio. All of the motorcycles honored and most in attendance are antique . . . as are a majority of their owners.

I slipped the surly bonds of the farm for a three-day getaway and encountered one eye-opening experience after another.

The absolute topper of all was the Trials Competition.

Trials is the slow-speed, ultra-precise maneuvering of a motorcycle over deep woods obstacles that appear insurmountable. But the lightweight, high-torque bikes can be made to dance over rocks, logs and slippery, muddy terrain . . . all on an incredibly steep hillside.
It's accomplished with amazing balance and a high level of finesse. Put your foot down and you pick up a point. The rider who finishes with fewest points wins.

The riders - most in their 30s, 40s, or 50s - pretty much slipped, bounced and skidded their way through the course. Some "dabbed" a foot, some paddled unashamedly, some dropped bike and dignity into the mud. They were riding 60s and 70s Hondas, Ossas, Yamahas and Suzukis.

Then came the last rider. The engine note was unusual . . . a slow, thumping beat. The exhaust pipe was low-mounted, not up high as were all of the others. The front fender tag proclaimed it a 1946 BSA. 53 years old but with the strong, thumping heartbeat of a teenager.

It moved slowly. Slower than most of the others but with delicate precision, threading its way over, around or through the obstacles.

Then as the rider moved closer, the crowd of observers collectively sucked in their breath as they clearly recognized that he was at least 17 years older than his bike. A tall, slender man with a deeply furrowed face, standing on the footpegs throughout, he had the calm, steely, focused look of a gunfighter.

His bike lost no traction, his feet never left the footpegs, his body english was spot on and he aced the section. Zero points.

No other rider had commanded such applause.

Lesson learned: never underestimate an old guy on a motorcycle.

Tarp Shop Is Gone - - Temporarily

2009-07-14T10:33:00.003-04:00

Erb's Tarp Shop disappeared yesterday!

Our neighbor's long-standing business headquarters, where boat owners and others from the Midwest have purchased custom-fitted tarp covers for nearly half a century, is gone.

But wait . . . there's more!

Actually, the shop was demolished to make room for a new, larger building. Meanwhile, David Miller (owner) and his family are working out of a smaller shop beside their house, just across Rt. 515 from the tarp shop site.

A foundation footer for the new building is being poured today and unless I miss my guess, a new - and much bigger - tarp shop will be ready for occupancy in about two weeks.

Indiantree Hill Gets A "Haircut"

2009-07-11T09:22:00.004-04:00

The hilltop high-altitude haircut is finished.

Twenty-two of our tall trees - including our cherished Indian Tree - have been shortened, pruned and thinned, yes to give them better shape and strength but mainly to make them less vulnerable to the high winds that howl across Indiantree Hill when storms whip in out of the Southwest.

Riding an 85-foot-tall "Cherry Picker" and swinging from branch-to-branch on a rope looped over a higher limb, the Amish trim crew amassed more than an acre of trimmings, piled six feet high in places.

Now the trimmings have been reduced to wood chips and a stack of firewood, the squirrels have relocated to new living quarters and the woodpeckers are back to rapping on the old snag in the East tree line.

We relished breakfast on the front porch this morning, watching new patterns of dappled sunlight created by our "opened" trees

Amish Tree-Singer . . . A Surreal Moment On The Hill

2009-07-08T09:12:00.003-04:00

My trees are alive with the sound of music.

Amish music . . . and yodeling.

The cast and crew of Yoder's Tree Service are singing, slicing and shredding the 60-foot-tall Maples surrounding the farm house, the barn and the guest house.

Indoors, on Channel 3, Queen Latifa is quoting Maya Angelou in memory of Michael Jackson. Outside - and I am not making this up - one of the Amish trimmers is singing and yodeling, "When The Roll Is Called Up Yonder."

At the top of his voice.

Truly surreal.

Marvin Yoder is a wiry guy able to hold a running chainsaw at arm's length as he lops off branches while dangling from a rope looped through the crotch of a branch 10 feet higher. He swings from branch to branch, sometimes standing on a limb, sometimes dangling by the rope.

Singing all the while, not for an audience because there is none, but for the pure joy of singing and because he genuinely enjoys his work.

My lawn is eight feet deep in branches, the tree that was hit by lightning (the one I pondered for hours, trying to figure how it could be dropped without damaging something) was down in nine (yes 9 !) minutes and it fell exactly into a narrow corridor between the split rail fence, the electric power lines and the guest house.

Now Jennifer Hudson is singing a moving tribute to Michael Jackson and I stand transfixed at the window. One of Marvin's crew members, 50 feet above ground, has lapsed into an extended yodel, nearly drowned out by the wood chipper.

Truly surreal.

Fruit crop is looking good this year

2009-07-05T15:32:00.001-04:00

We pared the grape vine back to the nub in the spring, and the same for the apple and cherry trees. It was cold and dreary in late March when we did that.

Now, it's sunny and warm, and the grapes and apples are coming on strong. The thought of grape pie is making our mouths water, but we'll have to wait a few months for that.

Unfortunately, we didn't have so much luck with the cherries. They looked good for a day -- but the bird crop outpaced the cherry crop and they got them all.

We saw a blue bird today!

2009-07-05T15:15:00.002-04:00

The grandkids arrived today, and pulled in the lane to see the first blue bird in their 19 years on this earth. It was a moment to celebrate.

We stood in the front yard and applauded as the blue bird with the red and white breast flew across the pasture toward Walnut Creek.

Let's hear it for the red, white and blue!

Keep an eye on our covered bridge, will you?

2009-04-19T18:45:00.003-04:00

Want to watch a covered bridge being built? You can watch it online.

The county is building a covered bridge on the south side of Walnut Creek, at the bottom of the hill as you head toward the Mennonite Church. Someone thought it would be good for tourism, and we can't argue with that. (Imagine the photo possibilities as buggies emerge from an old-time covered bridge!)

Someone thought it would be a good idea if people could watch the construction on County Road 145, so they installed a webcam, and you can see it on the county engineer's web site.

It's Sunday, and it's raining, so there's not much to look at today. I just saw a bird fly over the idle equipment.

Spring is busting out all over on Indiantree hill

2009-04-19T18:36:00.002-04:00

Yesterday, the pear tree in the side yard had green buds. Today, it's a tree full of flowers.

Several weeks ago, we spent a couple of days pruning our orchard of apple, pear, peach and cherry trees. We also ravaged the grape vine planted by our ancestors. It pains us to cut it back so hard, but it seems to like it. It made for some amazing grape jelly last year -- and some grape pies to die for.

Now, the grass is greening up. The pasture is lush, awaiting the day very soon when neighbor Jonas will turn his cows and horses loose on grass that grows inches overnight.

Jonas was planting in his field beyond the pasture on Saturday, standing tall on the back of his planter as he drove his team up and down the hillside.

On our side of the fence, we planted 50 Christmas trees on Saturday. Most are no bigger than a pencil, and fuzzy like a squirrel's tail. They're tasty morsels for deer, so we made 50 cages to protect the tender seedlings from the four-legged, doe-eyed vermin that have ravaged so many other tender shoots on the farm. Seven years from now, if we're lucky, we'll have trees tall enough for our family to cut and decorate.

Smell the sawdust... and the pies baking

2009-04-19T18:34:00.002-04:00

Friends tell us it's been a little cramped in the Der Dutchman dining room this winter as work on a larger bakery pushed a temporary bakery into dining-room space.

But the construction is winding down, and the bakery should be moving into its new, larger space within the next few weeks.

'Big wind' sweeps valley, bypasses Indiantree hill

2009-02-21T07:50:00.003-05:00

Feb. 17, 2009
In a rare changeup style of delivery, the forces of nature focused high winds into the "Goosebottom" valley rather than across the Indiantree Hilltop.

Our neighbor Jonas reported last night's big blow ripped off both of his big barn doors, sailed them across the barnyard and left them heavily damaged. His storm door vanished, as did a smattering of slate and metal strips from various roofs. He spent today in "patchup and fixup" mode and figures it'll be Thursday or Friday before everything is back to normal.

Meanwhile, up here on the windswept hilltop, things were relatively untouched. Of course a new "crop" of twigs and small branches was scattered across the lawns of the main and guest houses, but a quick looksee showed minimal damage. And granddaughter Liz soon had the sticks picked up.

All the wind had no effect on the Amish boy's basketball action. After darkness swallowed the valley and all the chores were finished, the guys gathered in Jonas's new workshop for a game of hoops. He uses a couple of auto backup light bulbs hooked to an old car battery for light and sometimes they play in the straw shed, sometimes in the shop. The guys prefer the shop because the straw shed has a four-foot-square hole in the floor, used for dumping hay and straw down to the lower level.

But that hole can be a really slick way of getting rid of a pesky opponent who's guarding too closely or trying to steal the ball.

Tightening economy reaches Amish country

2009-02-21T07:40:00.004-05:00

Jan. 7, 2009
Amish Country thus far has been pretty much immune to the impact of tough economic times.
Some businesses reported a slight dropoff in tourist visits but most didn't seem to be severely affected.

But along with the freezing rain and slippery roads that went with Old Christmas (Jan. 6, Epiphany) the Amish neighbors were talking about layoffs and cutbacks.

Walnut Creek Planing had to lay off 28 employees because of shrinking demand for its hardwood furniture components. As a result, David Miller, owner of Erb's Tarp Shop, has hired on a couple of extended family members who were on the planing mill layoff list.

David has been burning the late night (and early morning) oil in an attempt to catch up since a midsummer car-bicycle crash on the highway out front claimed the life of neighbor Marcus Shetler. When a tragedy of that sort occurs, all the neighbors put their lives on hold and they pitch in to deal with the immediate family's grief, daily chores, funeral arrangements and other unexpected needs.

David reports that last night's sleet and ice made for some eye-widening driving conditions as his family - and others in the neighborhood - were driving their buggies home from Old Christmas gatherings. If you think sliding around on ice is exciting in a car, imagine applying the brakes on a skinny, top-heavy buggy with smooth steel wheel treads just one inch wide . . . as you're rounding a curve while descending the Walnut Creek hill!

Think of it as riding a giant, out-of-control pendulum.

Amish in Kentucky help English neighbors after storm

2009-02-04T18:49:00.002-05:00

We weren't surprised when we read a story by our old friend Roger Alford, an Associated Press reporter in Kentucky, about how the Amish community in that state is helping English neighbors who are without power because of the ice storm in January.

Our experience in Ohio has been the same. The Amish help their neighbors. And, generally speaking, their neighbors help them.

Roger wrote from Mayfield, Ky., about how after the freezing rain stopped, Joe Stutzman gathered his spare lanterns and stepped out of his Amish farmhouse to lend them to his modern-living neighbors.

"I feel sorry for my neighbors who were used to electricity and all of a sudden didn't have it," Stutzman said. "I know that must be hard for them."

Here's the rest of Roger's story:

Hundreds of thousands of people in Kentucky have been without electricity for their lights, furnaces, ovens and refrigerators since the killer storm hit more than a week ago, and some spots might not get power back for weeks.
But Kentucky's Amish have been living that way all their lives. And when the disaster struck, they generously lent a hand to their non-Amish neighbors and showed them how it's done.
"Those folks are very good at sustaining themselves," said Master Sgt. Paul Mouilleseaux, a National Guard spokesman.
The Stutzman family and the roughly 8,500 other Amish in the state were essentially unaffected by the storm that knocked out power to more than 1.3 million customers last week, about half of them in Kentucky.
Stutzman, his wife and their seven children were secure in their toasty, two-story home amid corn and soybean fields and swampy stands of cypress in western Kentucky.
"We paid it no attention," Stutzman said Tuesday, relaxing in a handmade rocker as a wood stove across the room radiated heat on a windy morning with temperatures in the low 20s.
He grabbed a log, taken from a big pile out back, threw it on the fire and lit a kerosene lamp. The cellar was stocked with canned goods, the milk cow safe in the barn. Stutzman's wife and two of their daughters used the wood-fired oven in the kitchen to do their baking.
Stutzman, a sturdy 40-year-old with a traditional Amish beard and a black-brimmed hat, said he would not have even known the storm was coming if one of his neighbors had not told him about the forecast. He is a member of the Old Order Amish, a sect that shuns modern conveniences such as radios and televisions.
James and Beverly Hutchins, a non-Amish couple who sheltered nine relatives in their home, said they don't know what they would have done without the Amish family across the road from them, not far from the Stutzmans.
The neighbors brought over hot coffee every morning during the week the power was out, provided well water, cooked a meal for them, lent them a kerosene lantern and fixed the one lantern the Hutchinses had.
"Best neighbors we've ever had, and we've been around a few places," 76-year-old James Hutchins said.
Beverly Hutchins said she told the Amish family that she would turn her porch light on when the power came back on as a signal so they would know they didn't need to bring over coffee. That finally happened Tuesday night.

Winter creeps onto the farm

2008-11-24T14:24:00.001-05:00

We can often see bad weather coming from atop the always-windy Indiantree hill a mile north of Walnut Creek.

Most times, it comes at us from the west side of the big red barn, out of the southwest. Today was no different. Today's full cocktail of rain, ice and snow hit us from around the barn like a round-house punch.

It's a good day to sit by the fire and be glad that, unlike our Amish neighbors, we have no cows to milk.

2006-04-24T08:55:00.000-04:00

The grass is growing and the redbuds are in full bloom on Indiantree Farm. It's a glorious time to be in Ohio's Amish country.
The neighbors are all plowing and planting. The heifers are romping through the pasture like teenagers running off a bad case of cabin fever.
It's been warm, and mostly sunny, and that has drawn out what seems like a record number of flies and tourists, not that there's any connection between the two.
We're mowing again these past two weeks -- about three hours each week -- which gives us plenty of time to sit and think about such things.