Today At The Amish Store ...

Here in Ohio, fall came on like a prowling lynx. The temperature dropped a little. The air took on a crisp quality. The trees just seemed to subtly burst into golds and oranges and cardinals and crimsons and now ... POOF!! ... two thirds of the leaves are laying on the ground brittle and melancholy. To some, fall means that summer is gone and the bitter cold of winter is on its way. But for me, autumn represents many positive things including a few trips to a local Amish store about 30 minutes away.

It's not easy to find, nestled deep between back roads and generational family farms ... but it's soooo worth the effort.

The store's hours are odd ... very late a few evenings and closed Thursdays (many Amish weddings and meetings are held on this day) and Sundays. The lane off the rural road to get there is pitted and almost impassable when it's raining heavily; the ruts from repeated buggy tracks are genuine impact tests for most shock absorbers.

But DAMN! ... the bounty of treasures and low prices makes me almost swoon with gluttony! When I go I have a list and a set amount I want to spend ... cash only because they don't take checks or credit cards ... but I always overspend ... and over indulge! And my family and friends benefit from my lack of fiscal discipline because I bring them a jar of pear butter or a half-dozen sinful cinnamon rolls.

Every day, fresh batches of bread, dinner rolls, muffins, and pies are carefully cooled and wrapped by a bevy of plain-but-wholesome-looking young Amish women. Baskets of locally-grown items are placed in small bins ... potatoes, green beans, summer squash, cantaloupe, onions and leeks, peas, sweet corn, cabbage, rhubarb, strawberries, and peaches. This time of year, in particular, apples and pumpkins and decorative gourds and Indian corn are in abundance. Shelves are stocked with unusual pastas, beans, homemade jams and jellies, jars of thick and savory bread and butter pickles, and powdered ingredients for a wide variety of homespun cooking. This little shop is the only place where I've found tomato-basil lasagna noodles and a unique type of white bean that makes for incredible "white" chili. It's like the Old World met The Food Network, fell in love, and had a baby ... "The Amish Iron Chef."

And the spices ... this little cinder-block building is my restock "depot" for cilantro, capaprika, ginger, dried mustard, anise, caraway seed, nutmeg, and thyme, as well as the only place where I've found interesting things like "sweet cumin," a sun-dried tomato/green pepper/red pepper combo that is a must-have for omelets and spaghetti sauce, lime curd for pork roast, and a garlic lemon pepper that makes anything taste better. I'm half tempted to put it on my morning oatmeal ... it's that good!!

There are also some truly unusual items that attract kitchen "dabblers" like me. They have blocks of chocolate the size of newborn babies. And every few weeks they feature hand-churned herb butter ... heavy with garlic, sage, and rosemary. And on occasion, usually around major holidays, they sell large batches of butter cream and cream cheese icing that a local non-Amish lady whips ... what a timesaver for Christmas cookies and the occasional fancy and festive Easter dessert. And there is a whole candy aisle of tiny samples ... sour balls, fruit slices, peppermints, old-fashioned butterscotch, toffee bark, and more. I always start my hunt for "stocking stuffers" at this establishment.

In fact, the one concession to the traditional Amish "stereotype" is a set of freezer cases run by a generator ... no permanent hook up to electric utilities. Anyway, this allows for a wide selection of cheeses and trail bologna and summer sausage made regionally. Buttery farmer's cheese ... Swiss with fennel seeds ... cheddar with pepperoni ... "chocolate" cheese ... the variety switches with the seasons, but there's always something new and unique to try. And I can't stress how inexpensive some of these items are ... like about 30 percent of what I'd usually pay at the grocery or specialty deli store. But it's the soda in the chillers that amazes me ... the Amish must really enjoy carbonated beverages because I've found brands and unique sizes of cola that I never knew existed.

So I used the word "stereotype" earlier. I realize that not everyone is familiar with Amish culture, or just thinks of them as backward folk in plain clothes living without electricity, riding around in horse-pulled buggies, and speaking an odd combination of Dutch and Germanic languages. But like so many of our ancestors, the Amish came to the U.S. in search or religious freedom. In 16th century Europe, many people adopted a faith that did not baptize infants like the predominant Catholic faith, but instead embraced baptism as more knowledgeable adults. These same people also often came into conflict with the Swiss Protestant Reformation movement because they wanted more structure within their churches. These people, closely associated with Mennonites, became known as the Amish, or "the plain people" because of their disdain for many of the worldly possessions coveted by others.

A simple Amish tenet comes from I John 2:15 --

Do not love the world or the things in the world.

If any one loves the world,

love for the Father is not in him.

In the 1700s, a small number of Amish families ... less than 100 ... came to America and settled in Pennsylvania. Many more families followed, and over time a large number of Amish "orders" spread into Ohio and Indiana. Primarily farmers, the Amish have also become well known for their carpentry and repair skills. Additionally, traditional Amish artisans have kept alive many crafts and metal arts disciplines such as blacksmithing, weaving, quilting, and more.

I had an aunt whose farm was adjacent to a small-but-thriving Amish farm. As a kid, I remember spending time at her house and playing with the Amish children. We all loved tag and hide 'n' seek and climbing this big, gnarled tree that sat in the middle of a field. We also got put to work picking raspberries and blackberries, and this slightly older Amish girl showed me how to pick them without getting nicked so much by the briars. But one thing I will never forget is how my aunt would have us all come in for about an hour and draw or play board games. She said it was because she didn't want to send the Amish kids home to their parents all excited or sunburned. I think she just liked having 60 minutes where we weren't all screaming and screeching like maniacs. Here, during the inside time, I noticed the intrinsic differences between "them" and me. The clothes never bothered me, but most of the kids wanted to play checkers or work puzzles. They had no real interest in Candyland or Clue Jr. And when we drew pictures, mine were spaceships and castles where theirs were always horses and pigs and cats and family picnics and trees ... ALWAYS!! And my aunt would usually fix microwave popcorn for a snack and the mood in the house would instantly change. Every Amish child in the room ... usually about five ... would drop what they were doing to watch the "magic" occurring in the "silver box." I never gave it a second thought.

POINT OF RANT: I should have got more trail bologna this trip ... damn it's good!

Today At The Department Store ...

I recently re-watched "Brokeback Mountain" and it got me thinking ... sleeping on the ground sucks! (Had you wondering where I was going with that, didn't I?!)

I've only been camping a few times and I've always been luck enough to have a pretty descent sleeping bag. It's very heavily padded ... nice and roomy ... and is rated to -40 degrees, so I'm ready for the Mt. Everest climb whenever I'm asked.

Anyway, where I live there is a decent department store chain that always has a major mattress and bedding sale around memorial day. I'm bummed because I wasn't really ready ... both mentally and financially ... to think about it this year, but more and more I'm realizing my inability to get a good night sleep is because I have a crappy mattress.

I've also been through some "relocations" recently, and I know I have a least one busted support in my box spring. I've had the mattress set for about six years and it's served me well. But I'm noticing that it has a very "lived on" appearance and it just isn't comfortable and supportive like in its younger years. It also has a small tear in it ... I'd like to say it was from some freaky hook-up, but I think it's from the "animal toe" I have on my left foot.

So now it's decision time, but before I set foot in a store, I'm going to do some digital detective work. Because of my age, occupation, and "station" in life ... I'm ruling out bunk beds (no support), water beds (I get seasick), futons (I'm a college graduate, so no), a race car bed (I think I could make it work but I'd get tired of always explaining it to others), a Craft-Matic Adjustable Bed (I'm under the age of 80), and just adding those layers of blue "egg-crate" foam to bolster up my current mattress (cheap, but would just need replaced constantly). I don't know if you can still buy feather beds, but my one grandmother had one and, although super fluffy, it offered no support whatsoever.

So I'm probably looking at either a traditional mattress-and-box-springs set-up or a memory foam alternative.

Most mattresses contain a core made of an assemblage of springs and an upholstered outer layer. Depending of type of support desired, manufacturer specs, and price point, the types of springs and the combinations of quilted fabrics and foams used to create a mattress can vary greatly.

There are five common types of springs used in mattresses, with the most common being bonnel coils adapted from the buggies of the 19th century, marshall coils ... individually wrapped for greater support, and continuous coils ... which employ a "hinging" effect for greater spinal and overall comfort. A mattress is usually paired with a "foundation" piece such as a box spring ... a wrapped sturdy wooden structure containing additional supporting coils, simple softwood slat foundation for enhanced stability, or a grid foundation that combines steel and wood for greater strength.

Foam mattresses are a newer type of innovation. These items utilize shape-conforming latex and/or viscoelastic "memory" foam to cradle the human foam and provide minimum transfer of motion. You've probably all seen the TV commercial where the cute blond jumps up and down on a bed with a glass of red wine balanced just a few feet away. Her jumping does not jiggle the wine ... although, thankfully, she still jiggles ... and not a drop is spilled. Thanks, memory foam!!

And I guess I forgot about all those adjustable air mattress beds where you can adjust the firmness of the mattress to individual tastes. Some models supposedly have really sophisticated baffles and air chambers so that the "number" you select for comfort really works for you.

But looking online for mattress details also uncovered price data ... andI went into sleepy-time sticker shock. Mattresses ... whatever type ... are pretty expensive. And some places still charge a hefty fee for local delivery. I guess my mattress isn't THAT bad ... maybe I'll wait for the 2011 models to roll out.

POINT OF RANT: I wonder if Obama has considered a bedding bailout!!

Today In My Easter Basket ...

Easter ... a Christian mainstay event ... a day when Christ arose from the tomb and a day when many of us make our one of two appearances at church each year. Easter has Pagan origins as a festival or fertility and renewal. Easter, like every holiday, means different things to different people. But in middle America, the celebration of the Easter season couldn't happen without the helping sugary hand of candy.

Unlike Halloween where we have to wear idiotic costumes and beg for treats, Easter is just a bonanza of sweets displayed in a variety of baskets, pails, bins, and other containers ... even Tupperware.

This season I made a concerted effort to assemble affordable but fun Easter "loot" for members of my immediate family. Kit Kats for nephew ... check. Candy necklaces for neighbor girls ... check. Big League Chew gum for my uncle ... check. Solid chocolate bunnies for several people ... nowhere to be bloody found!!

Oh, sturdy and solid chocolate hoppity-hops are out there ... if you mean 5 lb. hares of heinous proportions, or big-name candy shop cottontails that require a second mortgage (okay, let's be real, third). I found three-foot tall hollow "goliath" bunnies dressed in their holiday finery, peanut butter bunnies with their sickly orange "spray-on tan," dark chocolate rabbits so riddled with cocoa they make my cheeks hurt, "crispy" creatures with ricy skin conditions, and white rabbits looking embarrassed that the word "chocolate" was even associated with them. I even found these mutant vegetables-with-faces made out of chocolate ... they watched me as I passed them in the aisle, assessing my ability to stop them if they tried anything with me or the other shoppers.

I wasn't looking for more choices than my freshman year college course catalog. I wanted tradition. I wanted that teasing peek-a-boo box that lets you see a bit of naked chocolate rabbit flesh. I wanted that sexy brown color and not-too-sweet chocolate aroma. I wanted that strange chemical formula/periodic chart composition that creates a confection that, if the rabbit had a wick in its head, could pass for a chocolate candle. I wanted to see the word SOLID proudly displayed on the package, giving me instant Easter confidence that all was well and the economy would bounce back and my cat would be more careful in and around the litterbox, saving me valuable clean-up time.

Now, in my neck of the woods, we have superstores we'll call W, K, and T. I bet you have them too ... they're literally around every corner. And grocery store chains - places like Different-K, M, or your area's version - also stock a boat-load of confections from which to choose. With such a selection, why did everything seem so figuratively and literally hollow?

Feeling somewhat defeated, I was making a few last-minute "basket" selections - Post-Its, playing cards, super-bounce balls, and corn cob skewers - when there, on an endcap with baby wipes, I found Nirvana and it's name was Russell Stover.

Thank you, Russell Stover. Bless you and yours, Russell Stover. Are you a real person, Russell Stover? If I had a kid and named him Russell Stover, would he hate me for it?

POINT OF RANT: Never give up ... stick to your guns ... anything worth having takes work. But, more importantly, this cautionary tale of my hunt for Leporidea Cocoa is a warning of to all Americans of impending doom. Why the hell are Skittles and SweetTarts even kept near the chocolate during prime pre-Easter shopping? I believe that forced breeding programs and government gene splicing experiments involving these tangy targets and my beloved solid chocolate bunnies have created the ultimate soldier ... the chocolate vegetables-with-faces I mentioned earlier. They appear innocent, all smiles and fetching colors. But they have been built for guile, trained for espionage, and taught the 653 ways to kill. And with the genetic make-up of rabbits, they will breed fast (like rabbits) and they will breed often (a litter as big as 13 every 32 days). Stay watchful!

Today At The Mall ...

I hate buying shoes simply for the fact that I have big feet. When purchasing sneakers ... a relatively easy practice ... I take a size 14, wide if I can find them. And since most college b-ball handlers seem to sport size 18 feet and larger, finding cool shoes from big name manufacturers isn't a problem ... affording them, however, is.

When looking for dress shoes, I really need 13 wides and most stylish shops carry stock that cuts off at 12 ... and I'm not a seasoned ballerina so I'd prefer not to find mangled, bleeding toes every time I remove my shoes. Some big department store chains carry basic black and brown selections in 13W, but they look like shoes designed to correct a club foot or something, and their construction, as well as styling, is usually poor ... they wear like crap. And there's always the Internet, but I haven't had great luck ... shoes are one of those subtle things that have to "feel" right as well as look good. I know I can always return an e-purchased item, but who needs the extra pain in the ass.

To avoid my current dilemma, I even put "dress shoes" on my Christmas list. I'm a firm believer on mot wasting holiday wishes to Santa on mundane things like clothes and shoes ... I was hoping to pass the responsibility for my footwear to some unsuspecting relative. NO takers. Then I slipped it in as an idea for my birthday. Not a nibble.

This is one of the many times I wish for a return to childhood. In my family, we had a routine of getting shoes about four times a year ... just before the start of school (good shoes, casual shoes, and gym shoes), prior to Thanksgiving (good shoes for the holidays and replacement gym shoes, as needed), early spring (whatever was warranted), and just as school was ending (two pairs of cheap "play" shoes, and cool sandals if we begged or had been especially well behaved).

And the experience of shopping for shoes as a child in my home was magical ... truly. All four kids went as one, and it was Mom that took us ... never Dad. For our feet, we almost always went two towns over to this small Main Street shoe store that would have fit in perfectly in Harry Potter's "Diagon Alley." It seemed like a small shop with a dingy red and white awning over the entryway. But inside, it was cavernous ... like the laws of physics didn't apply. And boxes of shoes were stored, stacked, and shelved everywhere.

The owner was a stooped little gray-haired many that I'm sure looked elderly even as a child. He was sweet and never seemed scary, but he was still somewhat foreboding. My Mom would discuss our needs with him and he would disappear into the "back" of the store, reappearing with a stack of options. Most pairs were spot on. And when the owner thought one of us children might have grown, he would produce his "silver shoe" (a Brannock device created by Charles Brannock, operator of the Park-Brannock Shoe Store in Syracuse, New York, in 1925 to help him assess customers' needs more quickly) as if by magic to check our shoe size. Very unMuggle-like.

And apparently our shoe shopping also involved time travel because, like in the 1950s, we never paid for anything. The owner just "put it on our tab," handing my Mom a carbon copy from a little order pad he always seemed to have hidden in a pocket somewhere. Or did he?

As a grown up, I now realize that the "silver shoe" simply measured my foot and computed a size designation used by most manufacturers ... 3 X foot length in inches - 22. And I now see that the shoestore owner ... Mr. Lester ... used his old-fashioned store practices as a marketing ploy for busy families. My Dad once confirmed that he definitely paid Mr. Lester for his troubles.

Mr. Lester and his shoe "magic" are long gone ... I guess I'll try the Internet. But according to an article I read, many manufacturer and different regions of the world use slightly different methods for sizing methods. I saw a comparison chart and I'd have a better chance of selecting a winner on the stock market then finding a "perfect fit" in shoes.

POINT OF RANT: Duct tape comes in black and brown ... did you know that?