50 States Day 109

Day 109, Around the Block and Then Some.  45 Miles

"Don't worry about anything instead pray about everything."

~The Holy Bible- Philippians 4;6

I usually whine about our late start, but since we got into a rhythm (it took around six weeks), I write in the morning for a few hours while QG gets quality sleep. So it isn't like I lay around doing nothing. I've gotten thirteen of the '50 Stories in 50 States written, out of seventeen states. The remaining four just need to be written, no writer's block there. I'll get another short story for you soon. And who knows? It could be a love story, humor, thriller, nonfiction or based on a true story.

First, I'll need to (PP!) warn everyone for the entire blog. Get your Product Placement defensive shields up as we saw so many wonderful things that you will want to buy, you better be prepared.  I don't want anyone flying to Shipshewana and buying a PVC stork yard ornament and wondering what just happened.

Secondly, I got in touch with my feminine side today as we shopped a ton. QG has suffered through motorcycle museums, auto collections and the famous Balls of Twine that I owe her. So today was payback. Although the Balls of Twine aren't a man thing or woman thing. They are super cool for anyone.

We got a late start (that's okay), and headed to Shipshewana for the second biggest Flea Market in the World.  A hundred acres, with sixty for parking and forty for Fleaing. We wandered the aisles and gawked at... almost everything. Water assault rifles, tie dyed shirts and skirts, knock off shoes, past pull date food and a million signs saying 'Live, Laugh, Love,' that if everyone took every sign seriously, we'd have been a giggling lot indeed.

We bought neck coolers that you plunge in ice water to charge and they keep your neck cool for a couple hours. Birthday presents. Kitchen crap- I mean, stuff.

Ridiculously priced t-shirts and shoes. They are either stolen or some companies resumed slavery.

And now, a business lesson. I heard a "pfft pfft pfft" and followed the sound. At an ice cream stand stood an International Harvester engine (1913 vintage) turning two ice cream churns. Amazing. This made the vendor stand out from everyone else, for a gallon of gas a day. Oh, and the cost of the engine, amortized over ninety-nine years. What does your business do (or what do you do) to stand out?

After strolling at a flea market pace, we stopped in another Amish restaurant for plain, good fare.  These people do simple well.  Next, fabric stores. Thank God! I hadn't been in one for a few days and was getting cranky. Okay, I've been in a lot of fabric stores, but these rock. They stock a jillion yards of fabrics, stacked neatly (Amish style) and hang fabulous colorful quilts on the walls, artistry in cloth. QG took to it like a dog to a mailman's leg.

Off to Shipshewana for more fabric stores and Amish furniture. If we had a pickup truck... but no, so we couldn't even buy Amish toothpicks. But their quality was impeccable.

I met Frehmer ('Framer') at a quilt shop. He owned the shop, his house, a barn and the rest of ten acres were pasture for the horses. I asked as nicely as possible how his simple lifestyle conflicted with the general public, he said his biggest struggle was getting his buggy across the highway, what with the trucks and all. "But they have to do what they have to do." I like that because they don't seem to judge us English people (that's what they call us.) He mentioned that he owns the buildings but then clarified that the bank owns them. I said, "That's not so simple now, is it?" He agreed and said every year they work toward getting debt free. He should listen to Dave Ramsey on the radio-forget it.

Frehmer has five daughters and a wife. No wonder he owns a quilt store! The store featured around fifty fabulous quilts, but QG doesn't want to buy quilts; she wants to make them.

Back to the barn-tent and we chilled, taking care of some business, blogging and writing. The weather pulled through today, a perfect day for riding.

And finally, I'm throwing the Flea Market under the... Amish buggy. All that stuff for sale. Not one flea.

Tomorrow we set sail for Indianapolis, capitol of Indiana. And let's not forget that speedway. See you then.