The Final Hour: Driving the Amish

Well, here it is. The final hour of my little blogging stunt.

For the last twenty-four hours, I've been attempting to blog whatever happened to come my way. It's been a lot of fun, and I'm still not finished because I have pictures to upload and a few more stories to tell.

But I'll fill you in on my morning so far.

After waking to remember The Baby's moment of birth, I very reluctantly dragged my butt out of bed. Last night (or early this morning, actually), after I signed off her, the kids played blackjack and I waited impatiently for them to finish so we could read Mandy and get to bed. I didn't realize how tired I was until I crawled into bed. Suddenly, the pillow felt so good under my head, and I really hated to set the alarm clock for so early in the morning.

Aside from waking to remember The Baby's birth moments, I also had an appointment to drive an Amish girl to her aunt's house.

The Amish don't own cars, for the most part, but they do hire people to drive them from place to place. I've took on the job of driving the Amish about two months ago in an effort to help raise money for Bard's choir trip to China, and to get to know more about my Amish neighbors.

This morning, I had to pick up Lisa, a seventeen-year-old Old Order Amish girl who was going to be a mother's helper for Mae who just had her fifth child, a baby girl. I drove through the winding roads of this beautiful farm country and made my way to Lisa's house. She was ready for me when I pulled into the driveway.

The funny thing about young Amish people, I've found, is that they'll likely not talk to you unless you talk to them, and then they have a LOT to say. This was the same with Lisa.

"Do you have plans for the weekend?" I ask her.
"Oh, yes. My weekend is full. I have a birthday party tonight with the youth from my church, and then I'll be helping Mae again in the morning. Tomorrow, I'll be babysitting twins, and then on Sunday, it's church."
"That is busy," I say.
"I like it that way," she says. "I don't like to just sit around the house and do nothing."

It's not unusual on a day like today, winter's chilly temperatures about ten degrees or less, to see an Amish woman out early with the sunrise, hanging her washing on the line. I think of my own laundry at home, two washing machines and two driers, and still a stack that I can't seem to overcome.

Lisa talks about her grandfather, who passed away a few years ago, and how he's so much like one of the little cousins she'll be caring for today. "He just wouldn't get scared. You couldn't do a thing to make him jump. But he was silly and ornery and would just say the silliest things."

Before long, we've arrived in front of Mae's new but simple home, very neat and attractive with every thing in place. It's such a bucolic scene.

"Will it suit to pick me up at 5:00? I have plans for tonight." I tell her that it will suit. The terminology of the Amish in our area is funny, quirky, and I can't help picking up some of it. "I've done that once't already." Or "That really freaks me out," in a strong Penn-Dutch accent.

I think about what Lisa will be doing today, and what Mae won't be doing. Mae has had a mother's helper since the day her little one was born over a week ago. Her neighbors and relatives have cooked meals for her. Her sisters and neices have taken turns getting the kids on the bus and cleaning her house.

I think of my own house, a mess right now. While I intended to blog everything I do in a 24-hour period, the one thing I didn't do as much as I usually do is clean. The Before picture that I took of my kitchen yesterday still has no After picture to go along with it. While I don't understand everything about Amish culture, and I'm fairly certain I'd not like to be Amish, I do envy the sense of community. I wouldn't mind at all having a sister to call to help me come clean my house or take my kids.

I suppose that's one of the reasons I have longed for a larger family, and it's one of the reasons that I get so frustrated when my children fight. I want to build a community for my children. I want them to have someone on whom they can call when they need a hand.

It's peaceful in my house. This is fairly normal for this time of day, since I'm married to a Bohemian who gave his Bohemian genes to at least one of our children. The Baby's awake and has nursed, nursed, nursed and nursed. As I type, she's playing with her grandpa, my equivalent of a mother's helper, and he's singing happy birthday to her. He will likely sing it again, and again, and again, even after her birthday is over.

I've had fun blogging for you this past twenty-four hours. When I have the time and energy to think clearly, I'll post about what I've learned and the details of Sweetheart's date, including the Wal*Mart Shopping Card Fiasco.

But for now, I'm going to go recover from my 24-hour blogging stunt. :-)

Thanks for reading. Now, back to our regularly scheduled ONCE A DAY blogging.