Pages and posts regarding the summer road trip that’s about simplicity and tradition, with a focus on “plain people” and the traditional skill of driving oxen.
There are oxen in my truck. I found a matching pair In Pennsylvania and couldn’t resist.
For the uninitiated, “hitching post” is a bit of a misnomer on several counts. It typically resembles a section of fence and involves two posts. It also isn’t used for hitching. With oxen, it serves as a place to “yoke up.” The yoked oxen are then led to the implement (which may be some distance from the hitching post) and connected or hitched to it.
One characteristic of oxen is a tendency to consider the hitching post “home base” and, being creatures of habit, head there automatically and enthusiastically. It can be challenging to keep them on task if you pass near the hitching post.
Today, we head for our human hitching post—home. I’m not sure if we do so enthusiastically, but we look forward to unyoking, which indicates that the work is finished. While not the focus, this trip has involved some work, although not in the usual sense of the word. It doesn’t slide off the tongue as easily, but Road Trip 2024 involved some “purposeful effort.”
The hitching post is still pretty far away–we have about 300 miles to achieve today. I’m not sure what equates to removing the yoke, but it might be unloading and unpacking. It will qualify as a purposeful effort.
And it will be a bittersweet. Road Trip 2024 qualifies as an amazing experience on so many levels. I suspect we’ll be processing it for a while. I have some books to ship, some follow-up with new friends… and lots of “thinking” to do. Stay tuned!
My oxen are from Pennsylvania. They haven’t been named yet, so suggestions are welcomed. Short names are considered best, and they should sound different. Oxen do learn their names and respond to them.
Being in Lancaster County always feels a bit like being home again. We made this year’s visit towards the end of Road Trip 2024 somewhat intentionally to aid us in the “re-entry” to life as we usually practice it.
This sign on a Pennsylvania Bank serves as a reminder that we’re in Amish Country. Maybe I should have brought “my” oxen! (Yes, I’ve seen buggies at the drive-up window.)
One of our first stops was to see our young Amish friends Katie, Hanna Rose, and Rachel. All three are wise beyond their years, and their years are increasing. I was especially curious to talk with Rachel. We had a shared interest in teaching–what fun it was to compare notes! But last year we learned that she’d stopped teaching–Katie spilled the beans, explaining, “She’s in a relationship.”
After some friendly teasing, Rachel explained that it’s possible to have too many priorities and that, while she enjoyed teaching, her relationship and future family would be her focus. (Read last year’s story here.)
When we arrived this year, one of the young boys was sent to get her—she was helping her mother make and can ketchup. After a few preliminaries, I was not surprised to learn that she’s getting married on October 29th. She was glowing, and it was not just from the hot work of washing dishes.
Most conversations with the Amish I find are very mutual. She seemed equally interested in what I was doing and planning. At one point, I reminded her of our age difference and said, “I’m told that at my age, the two most important words are ‘comfort’ and ‘fun.'” She interrupted.
“And peace,” she said. “Don’t forget peace.”
The interruption surprised me, but the suggestion didn’t. Making peace a priority makes sense at any age. It’s one reason I try to keep my worry box small, so there’s not a lot of room for things to worry about. The peaceful pace is one thing that attracts me to the Amish. Rachel isn’t the only one who counts priorities instead of minutes and hours.
Sure, it’s possible to have too many priorities. But it’s also possible not to have enough or to miss an important one. It almost goes without saying that we should constantly check our priorities against our values. When I talked with my new Amish friend Roy in Ohio, he expressed some concern over the proliferation of e-bikes among the Amish. He’s not sure how that will change their communities over time. Questions like that are often more important than the answers. Our priorities should be driven by our values. We have more control over our values and priorities than we often exercise or even realize.
Thanks to Rachel, I’m adding “peace” to my package of priorities. I explained to her that I’ve always worked towards what I call “positive apathy.” It showed up last night when we stopped for ice cream at an Amish farm.
Grandma had a spray bottle and cloth and was eyeing the outside tables. I glanced heavenward and joked that it was likely to rain soon and the tables would wash themselves. She smiled and said, “We really need the rain.” (Rain should be a priority!) So, while I’d hoped to walk some with the camera, the rain is needed by the farmers and the earth. So be it. There is no need to worry or get upset. Peace, comfort, fun.
It may seem ironic that I’m adding to a package that is getting smaller, but I think it works that way. As the saying goes, “Less is more.”
We’d arranged dinner with Roy and Anna, an Amish couple, through a tour guide. A total of eight of us, plus Roy and Anna, would “break bread together” at their dawdy house in Fredericksburg, Ohio. (A dawdy haus closely equates to an in-law apartment, although more often than not, it is a free-standing building, sometimes also called a grossmutter haus. The system allows for several generations to live on the same property.)
This is not Roy and Anna, but quite typical of traffic in Holmes County.
I parked near the barn, avoiding horse tie-ups and doorways. Roy was waving us to the house from the porch and we were greeted by the tiniest poodle I have ever seen. Once inside, we took our places around the table and, following a moment of silent prayer, began passing around dishes that Anna brought to the table, starting with homemade bread and butter or peanut butter spread. The hearty meal included beef, chicken, noodles and mashed potatoes… I had the honor of sitting on Roy’s right–we were the only two men, and while the conversation was lively and engaging, the traditional “separation” of men and women seemed to develop naturally.
We learned that Roy and Anna had raised ten children and had at least fifty grandchildren, plus some great-grandchildren. The sharing was comfortable, and they were as interested in us as we were in them. Laughter came easy, especially over choosing homemade peach and coconut cream pie. A small piece of each made the decision easy.
After supper, Roy took me on a tour of the grounds and barn. Behind the dawdy house is a fairly complete children’s play area. When I complimented the grass beneath everything, he laughed and said, “Turf.” It was still a few minutes before I realized he meant fake grass. “Too hard to keep mowed,” he explained, reminding me that the typical Amish is imminently practical.
A fairly large back building housed at least a half-dozen buggies with room to spare. Roy explained that it was multipurpose but built primarily for Sundays when it was their turn to host church. One of my “forgets” was to ask how many families there are in their district. Somewhat to that point, all of their children live within a few miles.
After a walk through the barn (several of his sons run the farm), he sat on the tailgate of my truck and we did some serious sharing that ranged from farming practices to “theology.” When I asked him what he thought was the biggest misunderstanding about the Amish among the Englisch, he took some time to answer. Reframing his answer is challenging because it was a conversation, not an interview. He seemed genuinely interested in what difficulties I thought I would experience! That led to a long chat about individualism versus community.
Ultimately, he focused on the word “commitment.” He seems fairly certain that most Englisch underestimate the amount of commitment involved in becoming and remaining Amish. It was a point of agreement. One example is that Roy is concerned about the increased use of electric bikes and their impact. (His granddaughters were riding horses after supper. I saw no electric bikes.)
As I drove out the driveway, I realized that–in spite of our guide’s assurance that photos were permitted “as long as no faces are included,”–I had not taken one solitary photo. Had I been more committed to “photojournalism,” I might have remembered. I know I won’t forget Roy and our shared conversation. Nor will I lose the sense that I could show up again and feel welcome and connected. I’ll take that over a photo any day.
Anina is providing today’s update! You can learn more about her and how we met here and here. She is a very wise young girl!
Would you believe it? I got to meet Uncle Walter and Aunt Janice from Maine!
If you don’t remember, they are the ones who have sent me mail almost since I was born. It turns out that Uncle Walter decided to come to Michigan to learn how to farm with oxen.
When Mom told me about this development, I said, “I love oxen. But I’ve never seen one before.”
Mom and Dad then explained that there are moose in Maine. This also sounded interesting to me, and I expressed my interest in seeing these creatures.
Uncle Walter with the Oxen
Uncle Walter and Aunt Janice drove down from Michigan in a pickup truck, and would you believe it, they brought neither an ox nor a moose with them! Now here’s what I want to know: what’s the good of a pickup truck if you forget the moose and the ox?
Anina and her moose
This would have been a disappointment, but they brought so many moose items and oxen photos that I was well-satisfied. One of the moose is one that grows bigger when you put him in the water. Another is a lovely soft stuffy that fits perfectly in the cradle at the foot of my bed. Also, Aunt Janice sang me a song about moose and marshmallows, which was lovely.
The moral of the story is: I have a moose from Maine and all is well.
This is Zeus… he can be pretty stubborn! He was the first guy I worked with.
Driving oxen is not easy! Our days are long and my nights are too! I’m sleeping like a log!
So there hasn’t been time or energy to provide updates, but they are coming.
We actually did some “chores” yesterday (using the oxen). Hauled some hay, moved some implements so mowing can be done…
A dear old friend of mine used to describe himself as “happy tired.”
I am happy tired!
Walter Boomsma (“Mr. Boomsma”) writes on a wide array of topics including personal development, teaching and learning. Course information is also available here!
