Sunday, September 30, 2012

zippers are the devil

This past weekend, my sister, Pee (yes-that-is-her-real-nickname), and I took my mom on a mother/daughter/granddaughter weekend for her birthday.

We went to Lancaster, PA, which is far enough away to feel like a getaway but close enough that it's not an unbearable trip for a toddler, a second grader, a fifty-something grandma and 2 thirty-something sisters, one of which has to pee every 5 seconds.  I'll let you guess which sister that is.  Hint #1: Her nickname rhymes with "wee".  Hint #2:  It's not me.

As you may know, Lancaster, PA, is home to the Amish.  

BTW, have you seen the TLC show, "Breaking Amish"?  It's kind of like MTV's Real World, only with Amish kids.  It may or may not come on after "Here comes Honey Boo-Boo", which I may or may not have watched more than one episode of.

BTW, did you know that I am so old that I remember the first season of Real World?  We didn't have MTV at my house, but somehow I remember being mildly obsessed with in back in the day.  

Anyway, back to the Amish.  This part of PA is beautiful.  I'd love to live there.  We saw horse & buggies, a man who was the doppelganger of the grandfather on the movie "Witness", women gardening in skirts, and lots of signs for homegrown pumpkins.  

One sign (handwritten on cardboard) said:
Custom Shelling

Which begs the question:  What kind of person grows their own peas, beans or limas, yet feels the need to have someone else shell them?  Really?  You grow your own peas but you call in a custom sheller?  Maybe that's for the upper-class Amish.  The kind of Amish who can afford to pay to have somebody else sit and pop open those pods and fling the beans into a pan.  I can hear the gossips now.

"Yah.  Dat Zook voman gets her limas custom-shelled.  She rode by me on her buggy dis mornin' and didn't even look my vay.  Thinks shes' sometin', she does." (Not sure if this is how they talk, but this is how they talk in my head.)

I tried to get my sister to turn around so I could take a picture of the sign, but she refused and said she would just write it on cardboard when we got back to the hotel and I could take a picture of it.  #itsnotthesame 

And I'd just like to point out here, that if you have never shelled beans or peas or limas before, you are missing out in life.  It's actually kind of fun.  If you don't know what "shelling" is, get out of my blog.  Clearly, we are from different planets and speak different languages.  Not really.  I only have like 2 readers and I can't afford to be that picky.  But someday, when I am a blogging giant, I will weed out all of the people who don't know what "shelling" is. Maybe others, too.  But the non-shellers shall be the first to be shunned.  

Anyway, nevermind about that, back to more Amish stuff.  

We also saw tobacco drying in the giant barns.  It's quite beautiful.  
However, it begs the question:  Why can the Amish not have zippers but growing tobacco is okay?  

Zippers=devil......Tobacco=perfectly acceptable?    

Something is wrong here and I think that if I became Amish, I might have to mention that.  I would probably get shunned within 5 hours of being there.  Maybe less.  Hopefully I could make it long enough to at least try some homemade bread or schnitzel or something.

Hey, there's a show for TLC.  Nevermind "Breaking Amish".  It should be "Becoming Amish" and it could follow regular people who want to become Amish.  I'm pretty sure there would be more crying involved.  And probably more tobacco.  
You heard it here first.  
TLC, I want my cut.  
Because I'm sure that someone from TLC might read this.  
Hey, they found Honey Boo Boo, right?
Ketchup with the Frys is just slightly more refined than Honey Boo Boo.  Slightly.  I think I might have more fart references.  But less double chins.  Slightly.

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