Harness Shop

 There is nothing like walking into an Amish harness shop.  As soon as you walk in, a rich smell of leather mixed with harness oils and a scent of horses greets you.

If you are a horse person I promise you will be in paradise.  Most shops, like the one pictured above, sell items from saddles to horse wormer, brushes, hoof picks, blankets, bits and a million other such things. Even if your not a horse person, I believe you will enjoy the experience.  Go in and ask if they would be willing to make a custom leather belt, most will.

There are at least three harness shops in the Kalona, Iowa area alone.  I make a point of going to all three even though I have my favorite. (I won't say which one) The shop east of Kalona a few miles and then south on a gravel road has mostly bio-harness.  A nylon covered with a very durable synthetic coating. They also specialize in show harness.

 The shop pictured above is in town, straight north of the Casey's General Store. That is a mostly leather harness shop and happens to be the first place I did business with, when I first bought a team of horses.

A third harness shop specializes in nylon harness, and is located north of the leather harness shop, several miles on a gravel road (the road jogs west a little at one point.)

My two favorite harness makers are now deceased. One of them had a shop a few miles from my home and was one of the kindest men I have ever met.  He was full of horse wisdom and told great stories, many of which appear in my novel, Under the Heavens.  
I am saving his best story for my sequel, about an amazing pony.

My other favorite harness maker told me that he went to grade school with my wife's grandfather.  He was a nylon harness man and also was a very kind, wise horseman, with great stories.  Both of these men I used as examples for my Grandpa character in my novel, so if you read my book, know that there really are men like him out there in Amish communities.

I took a single harness in to this last man mentioned one time, to be repaired.  He told me that it may take a while to fix it and wondered if I had any other errands to run while he worked on it.  I did, so after spending an hour and a half in Kalona, I came back to check on his progress.  He was just finishing up when I got there and then spent what seemed like 5 minutes figuring before he gave me my total bill.  I was getting nervous about the price!  He finally looked up at me and asked, "Does $1.75 sound alright?"  I told him that it sounded awful cheep.  He replied, "Well, I didn't use much material, it was mostly labor."  Don't let me lead you astray, I doubt it will be that cheep when you go in to get a leather belt these days.

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Amish Never Forget

 One day I was driving down a country road a few miles from home and saw a mare with a colt in a small pasture.  The Amish family, who lived on that farm, were all out in the pasture admiring their new addition.  I slowed down, wound down my truck window and called out, "Nice Colt!" They all waived, with big smiles. I didn't know this family at all, but drove by occasionally to look at their horses.

A few years later, I bought a team of horses from this family at the sale barn. They asked to use the horses they sold me, that next spring, for plowing.  I was more than happy to oblige.
They invited me to come plow for a day with a six-horse-hitch, that included my two horses.

Stonewall and Jackson

(the horses I bought from this family)

When I was on their farm, I thought I should ask if they remembered a guy stopping by, one day years ago and hollering, "Nice Colt."  I doubted they would know what I was talking about.  If they did remember, it would surprise them that it was me.  Oh no! That's not how it works with the Amish!  Not only did they already know it was me; they told me, "You know what we were doing that day? We were counting the starlings on the telephone lines."

Most of us Americans are more familiar with celebrities or sports stars than our neighbors.  As a letter carrier, I have found that many people have no idea of their neighbors names. The Amish, on the other hand, are completely community oriented.  Once they know your name, they never forget it!

That day plowing and other experiences I had on their farm are part of the stories I share in my novel, Under the Heavens, http://www.tinyurl.com/underheavens
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Amish Casket Makers

Every Amish community has an abundance of carpenters who are excellent craftsmen. This Countyline Woodworking shop is just one example of what you will find, if you are visiting an Amish community. Ask any local person where the nearest woodworking shop is.





There are also casket makers in almost every Amish community, turning out beautiful handcrafted coffins. Usually, they are only making caskets according to need, not for business. I have found that they will usually be quite gracious about helping out strangers, if asked politely.

A few months ago we had a special meeting in Kalona sponsored by the Mennonite Historical Society. Local Amish leaders were invited to come and speak to the community about our shared heritage. Five Bishops and Preachers talked about Kalona Amish history and fielded questions the audience had about Amish practices. It was a fantastic experience!  I heard some really great stories; one about an Amish casket maker that I will share with you.

One elderly Amish man, who was speaking, told us of a relative that made caskets.  He said that in the old days it was the practice to cut a long straight stick the exact length of a deceased person.  This stick would be sent to the casket maker to be certain of a perfect coffin size.  This elderly Amish man explained that his uncle always kept all of those sticks in a corner of his shop, each with a named carved on it.
This is where the story gets good!

Amish graveyard north of Kalona

On the occasion of an unexpected death, a local Amish family went about the unpleasant duty of preparing a to send a stick to the casket maker. For whatever reason, they were not able to readily come up with a stick that was suitable, so, they cut a cornstalk the exact length. A young Amish boy was sent on a mule to deliver the measuring stick to the carpenter. When the boy was near his destination his mule decided it would be nice to have a snack, and took a bite off the cornstalk that happened to be within his reach.

The story had it, that the casket maker and the boy made the best guess they could, about how much stalk the mule might have bitten off.  No doubt the carpenter made the casket a little longer, rather than a little too short. These measuring sticks are still around in our community, but I don't think the cornstalk measuring stick survived.

This graveyard (pictured above) is near where the mule incident happened.

Horsepower in 2014

 The world has changed a lot in the past one-hundred years! In 1914 almost every farm in America was powered by horses, not tractors. At first glance these monster tractors look like a vast improvement over farming with horses, but are they?

Let's stop and go over the pro's and con's:
Tractors... one man can farm hundreds of acres alone. Horses... more people needed but that means more people with jobs.
Tractors... although they use expensive fuel, they don't need to be fed when not working. Horses... they have to be fed everyday but they can raise their own renewable, environmentally safe fuel.
Tractors... don't get sick and die. Horses... can reproduce their own replacements.
Tractors... don't have personality flaws. Horses... actually have a personality, many that you can fall in love with.
Tractors... will make you more dollars (True, that modern farmers spend more money on luxury items but almost all of them are strapped with a debt load their huge tractors can't pull them out of.)  Horses... will save you more dollars (Most Amish who farm with horses operate with zero debt.)
In the end, it is obvious that tractors are more convenient and make it possible to raise more food with less labor. If you ever visit an Amish farm, where they are using good old-fashion horsepower, you will find that with our "convenience" we have lost a lot of what makes life rich and meaningful.
What if, instead of one man farming a thousand acres alone, there were eight families working that same land. And those eight families helped each other daily in a close knit community. Welcome to the world of the Amish.

Does this fascinate you? Check out my novel, Under the Heavens, it will give you a chance to feel what it is like to spend a summer on one of these farms.

                 http://www.tinyurl.com/underheavens

Horses in the Cold

 Horses seem impervious to the cold but it makes me miserable to observe it. My own horses have a good place to get inside if they choose to. As you can see in the picture below, my horses usually stay outside until I feed them in the barn. Today, when the sub-zero wind chills kicked in, I found Coke and Karm inside.



They seem to love the snow but not the wind! When I come in to feed them and they have snow all over their backs, I'm thinking, "why not get under a roof?"
But, it's their choice!

 I love to hitch up my team of horses. Yet, to be honest, I usually don't if the weather is bad. I deliver mail for a living, so, after being outside all day in the cold I'm not in the mood. When I see Amish out driving horses in all kinds of bad weather I'm impressed. This would be no life for wimps! Don't forget, there is no heater in these buggies. Although many do warm up rocks or potatoes to take along as mini-heaters.

A glimpse into "Under the Heavens"

        An Amish man appeared, walking toward them on the road.  When the man got within earshot, he called, “Sam, David, you boys are just on time!  My tractor is stuck, and I was going home to get my horses to pull it out. Why don’t we see if your grandpa’s horses can do it?”  Without saying any more, the older man jumped into the wagon alongside Lenny.  Sam headed his wagon through the nearest gate into a field, where they found a tractor half sunk in mud.
        “Whose boy are you?” The Amish man looked at Lenny, waiting for an answer. The boy’s face got hot; he didn't know how to answer that question.  Sam bailed him out by answering, “He is Jake’s stepson.”  The man gave a disapproving look, and nothing more was said.  Lenny assumed the Amish man already knew about him.

        They pulled up beside the helpless tractor; everyone jumped out and, in a few moments, they had both massive horses unhooked from the wagon, in place and ready to pull.  This was something Lenny hadn't seen before.  Sam held his horses in check as the older man mounted his tractor, starting it up with a pop, causing both horses to jump.  Lenny doubted these animals could pull out a heavy-metal  machine.

In a scene that filled his heart with wonder, both horses arched their massive black necks and heaved forward.  Muscles rippled in their shoulders and rumps and coursed down through their heavy boned legs.  One of the giants shook his thick mane and snorted as though gathering his strength, which seemed to spur on the other.  These horses dug their hooves in mud as the tractor wheels spun a little, and then took hold, spinning up out of holes it created when attempting to free itself.  Sam called his horses to a stop when the tractor rolled onto solid ground.

Lenny found himself letting out a victory shout when it happened, and the others all looked at him as if to see what was wrong.  Without much more than a nod, the older man drove off to finish his fieldwork as soon as the horses were unhooked.  His cousins hitched them to the wagon again,without a comment, they headed back down the road.  Lenny couldn't keep quiet anymore,“Wow, that was amazing!” he called from his luggage seat in the back.  Sam and David both turned and looked at him as though surprised to hear him speak. “That was so cool! Is that the first time you've had horses pull out a tractor?”  Both Amish boys gave Lenny a blank look.
          After a long, awkward silence, finally, the older brother spoke up, “Everyone around here knows Grandpa’s horses; they've pulled out lots more than tractors!”

Here is the link for more info

http://www.crosslinkpublishing.com/product_detail.php?product_id=148

A Christmas Poem

T'was Twelve or Maybe I T'was Eight

T'was the twelfth of December or maybe t'was the eighth

T'is my best Christmas memory, to recite in full length

Mom, Dad, my sisters and me, climbed in our pickup to go get a tree

We headed as a family to the outskirts of town

T'ward a farm where people could cut a holiday tree down
Dad refused to ask for directions, tho Ma begged him to that night

She clinched her teeth and smiled, saying, "Christmas is no time to fight!"

Dad said, "Not to worry, I know right where we are

See the twinkling light up yonder, honey, why that's the north star!"

We rode 'round for hours, like pickles in a jar

'Till Dad woke us up, with a surprised, "HERE WE ARE!"

T'was twelve o'clock midnight or maybe t'was eight

When we finally found the place and headed in through the gate

We passed a trailer-house-office and Christmas lights that read

"CUT YOUR OWN TREE" light bulbs spelled out and said

My mom and my sisters knew what kind they wanted

A symmetrical tree, and not one that was stunted

There t'was a hill before us that looked just like a face

Two stumps were eyes, and tall trees in the mouths place

Those pines on yonder hill, looked just like a smile

And caught Mom's attention, she told Dad, "That's the style!"

We gathered 'round that grin upon that hill

Ignoring snow and cold winters chill

Chopping and hacking with an ax and saw

We gnawed and we cut but that tree wouldn't fall

My sisters and I grabbed its branches in the middle

And walked in a circle and twisted it out like a thistle

T'was twelve below zero or maybe t'was eight

With a starry nightlight we hauled our tree to that gate

Dad roused a man from the office with a couple of raps and a knock

Who came stumbling down the steps and said, "Ya'll crazy, it's past one o'clock!"

Dad replied politely, "We want to pay for our twenty-four dollar tree."

The man snarled and told us, "The kind that ya'll cut down is one-hundred and three!"

"Did ya'll cut it out from the face of that hill

Or from the grove by the barn or the woods by the mill?"

Dad looked at the hill with a tooth missing grin

And then at us kids whom he'd taught,"lying t'is a sin"

He took out his wallet and gave the man every last dollar

Though he normally pinched bills 'til we heard Washington holler

The man with a sweat-shirt that didn't quite cover his belly

Must 'of seen my sisters shivering in the night that was chilly

He gave us hot cocoa that stung my throat, tongue and nose

With a similar stinging, Jack Frost had done to my fingers and toes

However, I liked the stinging the cocoa did better

Except that sister punched me when I spit it out on her sweater

So, don't get upset if  holiday plans don't work out quite right

My family's worst Christmas t'is my best memory by far

As Mom told us through clinched teeth, while following yonder star

And shared her wisdom on that cold winter night

"Christmas, my children, is no time to fight!"