Amish Country tagged posts
I never type that without hearing the kid’s rhyme, “Home again, home again, higgelty pig.”
My ex, Beth, and I used to disagree over the wording, she’d learned it as “diggity dog,” but it was clearly “higgelty pig.”
It was not as pretty a drive back as it was down, though it wasn’t bad. It was very windy for the first 60 miles or so, or about the first third of it.
The leaves were whipping around the highway, that last sort of rattle of Autumn saying, “No, really, I’m serious, he’s RIGHT behind me.”
It was still warm, but it didn’t look so much like fall anymore, it looked a lot more like winter.
About 30 miles from drew’s house, I saw a bald eagle snag a bird in mid-air about 20 feet in front of me.
It was certainly swooping low enough to clearly see it wasn’t a hawk...Read More
So, the first three photos are photos of Amish country, taken while sitting at a picnic table under a tree, sharing an Amish doughnut.
The rest are slave drew’s home, inside and out, including the Paul McCobb pieces and the German radio. The sculptures you see in the yard are all ones drew has carved.
We had a lovely weekend, I hope you did, too.Read More
I am at the moment sitting in slave drew’s living room.
For those of you in the know, it might matter that I’m typing on a Paul McCobb dining room table, sitting on one of four of his “shovel” chairs, and facing a buffet piece with two jewelry chests on top of it, all also done by the same Danish modern designer.
drew’s house is as eclectic as he himself is. It has a lot of art made by prisoners scattered around.
He curated an art show ten years or so back of art produced by prisoners in Kentucky prisons, and that lead to a couple other pieces, as well as the stuff he bought or was given by prisoners.
On one wall is a leather nature scene by a guy who killed three members of a rival biker gang, with one of the motives being the theft of a motorcycle jack with on of the victim’s club colors...Read More
I am at slave drew’s house this weekend, in Western Kentucky, in the Land Between the Lakes area – between Kentucky Lake and Lake Barkley.
Both lakes are man-made. Back in the early 1960’s, the old town of Kuttawa was flooded to form the lakes.
Think “Brother, Where Art Thou.”
Somewhere at the bottom of the lake, the old buildings are, or whatever is left of them, anyway.
We went out to dinner and by the time we finished at 7pm local time, the restaurant was emptying out, the rush over.
People eat early down here.
Tomorrow, we’ll go to Amish country, about 45 minutes away.
I suspect I’ll have a more enlightening blog tomorrow, but tonight, I believe, we are going to settle in and watch Goldfinger, then it’s likely to be early to bed.
Have a lovely weekend.Read More