The stressful day turned into an absolutely wonderful day. The kids destroyed the upstairs bedrooms twice and I screamed my bloody lungs out at them while I put everything right again. For reference, my voice sounded identical to the time I discovered they had found, and were taking out of the boxes to play with, their baptismal candles.
But. We got to the doctor and (though he was late because he had to attend a C section) everyone is essentially fine. Got home, stopped the F1 tape, loaded the dogs in the van, sprayed a little Febreze around, and got out of Dodge in plenty of time.
We headed…. west. Originally I meant to just go to Marshfield, pick up some Taco John’s, and head back home. But when we got to decision time, I decided to stay on 10 West and see where it led.
It led to Amish country. Central Wisconsin has pockets of Amish, some just east of us around Amherst, some south of Tigerton, but I found another pocket near Granton. I saw a handmade sign for a quilt shop I had never heard of, followed it down an unpaved road, and found myself in the gravel driveway of a working Amish farm where two men were running a propane generator that ran another machine that was carrying their hay bales to the barn loft via a conveyor belt. The horses were still hitched to the wagon that held the hay. They directed me to the entrance for the quilt shop — a screened in porch of the main house, where I soon met Sarah and Eli (22 months old and cute as an angel in a little brown dress and bare feet). We chatted for a while, I bought a bonnet for Colleen, and Sarah was charmed that my sons all had Bible names. I picked up a business card for the shop. Of course there is no phone number or fax number or web site. The hours are listed as “dusk to dawn year round” and Sarah said she would love to be included in my craft store directory. I also bought a quart of strawberries from them for $1.75. Fresh picked that morning. I had visions of making strawberry pie, strawberry jam, or some other recipe from one of my Amish cookbooks, but in all honesty they’re not going to make it to tomorrow. (Thursday’s note: I left twelve uneaten. Breakfast!)
And what was I wearing? Jeans, Nike sneakers, and my husband’s Guinness T-shirt. (shakes head)
We went on down the road a ways, gassed up a bit, and turned for home, which took another hour or more. Plenty of time for the house showing, I thought.
When we got home, JC brought me the mail, including a big white box from an Ohio address I didn’t know. “Here, you got this.” I was checking the voicemail. An agent had called at about 2:30 to tell me the 3:15 showing was cancelled, to save me the trouble of picking up the dogs I had picked up at 2pm.
In the rest of the mail I got the full program for the Wisconsin Sheep and Wool Festival. (I am so going to this. They have a full-day seminar for wannabe shepherds.)
Then I opened the box.
I’ve been Ravenclawed! Thank you Madam Pomfrey, AKA Julie Morgan. I love my socks and all my stuff! Sorry all the pictures are so small, I’m running out of server space. If you click on them they might get bigger.