West Eby School program

Tomorrow the school next door puts on its Christmas program. You want artisan, local, small carbon foot-print? They've got it. The hand-written, pencil-colored invitation is done on a folded piece of paper about 8 by 4 inches. Inside, besides the date and time, is written, "We hope to see you 'gliding' by!.."

I'm going.

cookie day

Dorcas and Sarah took over the kitchen for a mother and daughter cookie baking day.

count down at seminary

With only one week to go before the seminary semester is over, Dorcas put the final touches on her timeline of the first 1500 years of Christian history.

centennial birthday greeting to my dad

My father, Lester Mark Lehman (1910-1981) was born today, one hundred years ago (12/11/10). It's a good time to say again, Dad, I love you. He was born a preemie and thought to have little chance to survive. Care involved hardly more than carrying him around on a pillow. His mother bore her next child 11 months later. But dad did survive and went on to rise up through the ranks of the Pennsylvania Railroad, from carpenter's helper to eventually full carpenter. Here's a photo of him in likely first grade at the one room school along Rte 340 between Bird-in-Hand and Intercourse. The second photo was taken about 1972, with his oldest child, Milton, and oldest grandchild, Angela.

Here's what my dad wrote me December 15, 1968, on a Christmas card he and mother sent to me in the Congo:

Dear Glenn,

This is Sunday evening the 15th, sitting at the kitchen table with Mother writing a few lines. Loretta is away. Weather outside is 20 degrees above zero, blowing and very cold. I appreciate the birthday card signed by my three sons. Very nice.

Things are going as usual. Family gatherings over Thanksgiving and Christmas. We all miss you each time. It makes us feel good to know after this Christmas we can or hope to share our joy and happiness together again. We as your parents wish you God's blessing till we meet again.

With love, your Father

And till we meet again, Dad, my love again to you.

new windshield

Cruising south on I81, the Subaru suffered a stone to the windshield and a crack ensued. With the right tools a specialist replaces it a week later. In France the modern laminated glass was invented. La France? La technologie? Yes.

my poor math

Maybe it's my sloppy math. But in the saffron post I had my plot of 4 feet by 12.5 feet equalling 200 square feet. Not, obviously. Fifty square feet. So, divide 50 sq ft into the 43,560 sq ft in an acre and you see that it would take 871.2 of my saffron beds to equal an acre. Hence, if my little plot is worth $31.43 retail, an acre of my plots, all 871.2 earning at the same rate, would be worth--get this--$27,381.82.
But before I buy that chalet in Switzerland, a tiny detail: I think I put about 1.5 hours into my little harvest. 1.5 times 871.2 comes out to 1,306.8 hours. And those hours have to be concentrated in the space of about two weeks or 14 days. Ninety-three hours per day, rain or shine. Okay, get 10 persons willing to bend over for 14 9.3-hour days in a row for $10/hour.
You see where this goes. It is not capital that creates jobs (labor), much as the right wants you to believe. It is labor (jobs) that creates capital. The two, actually, have to cooperate.
Well, back to work. And a big thanks to two sharp readers who caught my wrong math.

saffron harvest calculated

Here's the saffron harvest this fall, dried and settled. Green in background is about one third of the saffron bed. The harvest was taken to a local lab and precisely weighed. Total harvest is 2.68019 grams. Average weight of one single thread is 1.78 milligrams. Stay with me. Saffron is retailed by the grain. There are 15.43 grains per gram. There are 28.3 grams per ounce. At my local grocery saffron retails at $2.29 for 3 grains, or $0.76 per grain. So my total harvest would retail for $31.43.

Let's say I want to make some real money and plant a whole acre in saffron. My saffron plot is 6 steps wide and 2 steps deep, or 4 feet by 12.5 feet, or 50 square feet. An acre equals 43,560 sq. ft., or 871.2 of my little plots equal an acre. So at one acre, my harvest would retail at $27,381.82. This is huge correction from first figure.

In that jar holding my harvest are approx. 1,500 threads or the harvest of 500 flowers. I'm not quitting my day job right away, although saffron is considered the most expensive spice in the store.

the world upside-down

At the seminary, I saw this map of the world. Is the Gospel so powerful it turns the world upside-down? Is it that once you pass through these portals you will never see anything the same again?

inside the seminary

I followed her inside. After checking her mailbox in the catacombs-ish space, she gave me the tour. In the soaring cathedral-like space we saw the lit tree from the other side and through the windows I enjoyed the pastel blue mountains in dawn's early light and the reflected light and the cross in the window overhead.

discovering Dorcas at seminary

Monday I drove to Eastern Mennonite Seminary, Harrisonburg, Va., to see Dorcas go to school. It's 7:45 a.m. Behind her is the cute cottage. Above her is the Christmas tree amid the arches of the seminary building.

big trucks, tight corners

Add to that sloppy driving and you have tire marks on the lawn and a fallen corner post. The farmer who lives back the lane beside our house put the post back in place. I thanked him and found out the truck has been leaving marks on his lawn, too. With his consent, I reported to the trucking company.

European stereotypes

Recently enjoyed travel photos form Germany. So I noticed this online tooday: In heaven, the police are British, the chefs are French, the mechanics are German, the lovers are Italian, and everything is organized by the Swiss.

In hell, the police are German, the chefs are British, the mechanics are French, the lovers are Swiss, and everything is organized by the Italians.

one thanksgiving table

Thanksgiving Day we left West Eby Road to the other locals who held the fourth wedding of our road mates this fall, and we gathered with family at Charlotte Street. Here's the table Lois set, replete with fruit cocktail appetizer. Right before we sang a Brian Wren hymn ("for the fruit of all creation, thanks be to God") and prayed, we delighted in the colors of the oyster stuffing dish, the herb stuffing, the cranberries, celery, olives, succotash, broccoli, turkey at the very top, gravy, and sweet potatoes. Not visible is a succulent cranberry dip and other goodies, including pumpkin pies. Also, not visible, is discussion ranging from one end of civilized living to the other, and bonds of affection. Camera settings by Joel.

family guys out

For services rendered (moving furniture) by the guys on the left, Milton treated at House of Pizza, next to the police headquarters. We shared a big pizza and had a good time. We started eulogizing one of our aunts we heard had died, but turned out it was another person with the same name. Whoops! Milton was remembering the episode of making noise by pressing dry ice against her chrome bumper, who knows, 1951.

half marathon goes by

The Amish Country Half Marathon passed us today. A water stand was set up at the church with a three-piece band amping out pop/contemporary. The outhouses of Eby school were commandeered. As Saturday school German lessons apparently were no match to the excitement sneakering down the road, the teacher let everyone go and help hand out water or just enjoy the moment.

wheels of Monterey, 14-year-old school bus

Saturdays at noon one of the 14-year-old students rides home from school in this cart, waiting here for a late rider.

wheels of Monterey, calf brigade

Every evening at 6 p.m. these wheels roll by with the water and feed for Raspberry, the teenage calf, who has moved back to our pasture. The little one-year-old always rides along with Pop.

horse gets ticket OR burn ban

What's the commotion about? It looks like a horse getting a ticket, but then I see the smoke. Soon a fire engine appears and it's the whole township drill, all to put out a trash fire which Davie, who rents my field, started. The burn ban is still in effect.

local locale: York museum

Among several museums, we chose the industrial one, featuring transportation. The station wagon was so named because it carried stuff to the train station--this one built in York in the year my Lehman grandparents were married--1906. Seems that York and tons of towns were bustling with early auto builders. Then cheaper factories appeared in Detroit and those jobs were "shipped" there. Hmm, sounds familiar. Midwest then, China now. Get it? Doesn't mean I like it. Seeing our local carriages every day makes me forget how elegant one can be.

local locale: York

Nice thing about York--you can go far back in time, but the drive home is short. Milton and I took a half-day getaway. The first congress hid in York. I guess the official business was conducted in the stately brick, and the unofficial business in the bar across the street. How often do you see a mural about the constitution? The oldest church in York is the Quaker meetinghouse, 1766.

back in time

Saturday, Ryan and I enjoyed a half day at the Renaissance Faire. Part re-creation of 16th century Europe, part costuming extravaganza, part freak show, part acrobatics and sword swallowing, part jousting, part education--there's more than enough for a day. The Renaissance can be pegged at about 1550, with a century or two at each end. Some of the previous era, the Middle Ages, over-lapped. Hence the jousting and the battle axe throwing.

corn harvest

Farmers get out all the horses, the picker, a wagon, and, in this case, a daughter and march into the corn fields on days like today. The ears drop with a thud. The horses look interested and up for the challenge.

zipper spider wraps it up

Autumn came yesterday. Already the prima donna of Monterey arachnids, our fall yellow monster, had harvested the final bugs of the season and had packed up her web. Look up other pics online if you get a perverse pleasure: http://www.google.com/images?hl=en&rlz=&q=arachnids&um=1&ie=UTF-8&source=univ&ei=0BSaTK-nHoWBlAectdw3&sa=X&oi=image_result_group&ct=title&resnum=4&ved=0CDwQsAQwAw.

corn roast and hobo pockets

Two weeks ago...this year we built the corn roast fire on the mulch pile at the end of the barn. The fire was started two hours before eat time, so the bed of embers was much broader which did the ears on the end of the plate as well as the ones in the middle, and cooked the hobo pockets (in tin foil) to perfection. Ryan helped me watch the fire while others worked the kitchen and the grill. (pics by Joel)

world's shortest detour

The intersection of Monterey Road and Newport downtown Monterey (ha!). Let's see...the detour starts at the big sign and ends at the little one?

Dorcas birthday

Joel fires up the grill on Mary Street and puts on the red snapper and fillet; Dorcas gets gifts, including a wrist watch, and blows out three candles for 62--well, not too far off. When the Barnstormers shoot off the Labor Day fire works the sixsome settles on the back porch to cap off a rich evening. (Dorcas photo by Joel)