Day 118, Around Canton, 80 Miles
"The happy wife is not the woman who married the best man on earth, but who is philosophical enough to make the best of what she has got."
~Florence Harding, First Lady to Warren G. Harding
The First Ladies National Historic Museum.
"That is a very modest dress," Quilter Girl commented.
"Yes, but did you see the painting of Florence Harding? That had an open bodice."
As soon as the words left my mouth, I couldn't believe it. I had broken the Man Code, in a big way. Using 'bodice' correctly in a sentence. Put a dress on me. My apologies to all you tough guys out there. I'll try to get in a bar fight to make up for it.
The First Ladies Museum, I admit, was really interesting. Except for their forbidding photography, (I understand flash, but what? I'm going to steal the design from a nineteenth century dress?) the place contained interesting information on the women behind, next to, and in front of-the men.
Like for instance, Anna Harrison, a First Lady that never made it to the White House, as she got sick, then he got pneumonia (from his record setting inauguration speech of two hours!) and died 30 days into his term.
Florence Harding stayed in the White House after her husband died and burned every document she could find, as her husband's administration was one of the most corrupt.
There was plenty more, but I must keep this brief, as I need to get my nails done.
Off to Amish country, a dangerous place, as Amish is to quilts as stink is to dairy cows. And being a country bike rider, that's a close association. We shopped for fabric and gawked at quilts... where was I? Sorry, I was making a hair appointment.
Returning from one shop to another, we saw a couple sitting on a retaining wall studying our bike. We sat beside them (in the shade) and talked bikes, the trip, and Amish country. Mike and Christina are locals, so have an informed perspective on the Amish. Very enlightening.
Christina trades with the Amish, natural products such as cheese for money. Once again, she pointed out the quality of Amish products, just like their furniture. We remarked we'd like to buy some cheese.
"The farm is close by. You want to go there?"
I've learned to say sure, no matter what.
They led us there, to a dairy and mill. Monroe, an Amish man, runs the mill. It operates on a diesel engine. Okay, I don't get it. They don't use electricity, but a diesel generator? Instead of electricity coming from a coal fired plant? But in each district, the Amish bishop makes the call, and that's his call. He's milling spelt, a grain that is more nutritious than wheat, and many who are allergic to wheat can eat it.
Monroe takes us to a room where a machine is making a woofing sound. He tells us to cover our ears. Whoom! The thing blows up the spelt seeds into (PP!) Sugar Smacks looking things that taste just like them, without the sugar. A hilarious contraption.
We bought some cheese and bid adieu to Mike and Christina, new friends and awesome hosts.
Riding back over the hills and valleys, I reflected that this day, with the
friends, the country, the weather, and the tour, was a great one.
Do these shorts make my butt look fat?
Check the previous blog for the AMA Motorcycle Hall of Fame.