My Life as An Amish Wife

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My Life as An Amish Wife Page 2

by Lena Yoder


  Early Tuesday morning Jesse crawled into our bed, and I felt he had a fever again. He’d been battling a cold and cough since last Friday. I finally got him comfortable in his own bed, and he slept until 9:30. That’s very unusual for him. I was done with the laundry before he woke up. I cut out seven dresses for the little girls by noontime.

  Wednesday forenoon after chores, breakfast, going to the phone shack to check messages and make some calls, and getting mail ready, it was 9:30 by the time I got to the sewing machine. I got three blouses sewn before noon. I had plans to type in the afternoon. I got the typewriter, battery, and inverter all ready, and then the typewriter didn’t work. I fiddled around with it for a while and finally called my boss at The Connection magazine, an Amish publication. In frustration, I poured out my sob story to her. I gave up that project for the day. Last fall I found a typewriter at a Goodwill store for $5 and was quite proud of myself… excited actually. Then the thing didn’t work properly! So I borrowed my sister’s typewriter, and now I’ve probably ruined it. Must have been in my sleep because I don’t know when it happened.

  We made an early supper of biscuits and sausage gravy, which is an all-time favorite meal for my family. The girls washed the dishes, and I went for a long walk. It was a beautiful evening, and I could refresh my mind. I came home and enjoyed the evening with the children. Wayne had gone to a meeting and came home late, so by the time milking was done we fell into bed at 11:30.

  Thursday I finished up the machine sewing on three dresses. It’s taking way too long, but between settling many childish disputes, looking at farm magazines with Jesse, wiping runny noses dozens of times, fixing tea to drink with cookies—well, it just takes thrice as long to get something accomplished. I thought I had everybody happy with their tea and cookies, but it was mighty short lived. On the first or second dip of the cookie, Emily’s fell in, so she had to have fresh tea. It wasn’t a bother, as I just reused the same tea bag, but it was another trip away from the sewing machine. I couldn’t convince her that those cookie crumbs sweetened her tea and made it even more delicious. Looked too much like cooties floating around in her cup to please her.

  While I was sewing, Jesse had about a dozen small toy farm animals on the sewing machine to my right. I’d set them up, and then he’d play and knock them down. I’d set them up again. Next I had a pinched finger to kiss and blow on. Then he got dumped while flying around the house on his beloved, squeaky, red trike. Busy? Majorly. To have his sweet innocence…

  I’m longing for the warm, sunny days of summer. I think we all are. Summer spells freedom for me. I enjoy sewing in the winter, but I enjoy the vigorous, physical work of the summer even more. I like the busyness of spring planting, putting up hay, going on bike rides. Okay, I’ll stop dreaming now…

  Not ready for school yet, Emily is the oldest at home during the day. We spend a lot of time together. She is a very good helper. She loves to color and write—anything that has to do with paper. She’s starting to read a little, which is scary because she won’t go to school yet this fall. Those are some of her good points.

  She is also very picky and tries to act way above her age. She notices everything about anything and everybody, and it can be quite embarrassing for her mom sometimes. Talking about picky, the other day she had a banana to eat. It was a beautiful, delicious-looking banana. She peeled it and then stared at it a while.

  “Mom, is this banana okay to eat?” she asked.

  “Why, yes,” I answered. “It’s a good banana.”

  She took one bite. “Mom, is this tan stuff here all right to eat?”

  “Yes, that’s fine. That’s just how a banana looks.”

  Another bite. “Mom, is this brown stuff all right to eat?”

  “Yes, that’s not brown. It’s just darker than the outside, but its fine to eat.” So on we go until she’s finally eaten her banana.

  Yesterday for lunch we had leftover baked chicken.

  “Mom, is this brown stuff all right to eat?”

  “Yes, that’s just how chicken looks.”

  “Is this a bone or is it meat to eat?”

  “Yes, Emily, that’s meat, and it’s okay to eat.”

  “Well, what’s this dark-brown stuff?”

  “It’s blood vessels, and please just eat!”

  The others don’t even notice; they just eat.

  I love to cook, and it’s satisfying to feed a table full of hungry family members. I’m not as creative as I used to be because it seems I’m always pressed for time. I make soup again. We don’t have soup as often as when I was growing up, but we had hot lunch in school every day. Here our children eat out of lunch pails for noon.

  Recently I decided to be more creative and planned to make “Hearty Twice Baked Potatoes” and chocolate mousse pie. Duh me. I figured I’d use the potatoes we had on hand—not baking potatoes, but it would work the same. However, the things didn’t want to get done. Finally I ended up scooping out the potatoes I could without ruining the shell too much. I cooked the insides a bit and then mashed them. I added cooked sausage, bacon, sour cream, shredded cheese, a bit of Italian dressing, salt, and pepper. I scooped it back into the shells and baked them again. It was plenty of work, but they were good. Next time I’d go about it completely different, plus I would omit the dressing and add more spices instead.

  For a while I’d just been using regular baking flour for pie crusts because some other ladies said they do and like it. Well, I was just not satisfied and purchased pastry flour again. Using that and butter-flavored shortening makes the best crusts. Flaky and oh so good! I enjoy baking pies, but then I love to eat them too. They tend to jump immediately to my thirtysomething hips.

  Anyway, this chocolate mousse pie was really simple and delicious. It calls for seven ounces of milk chocolate candy bar. I didn’t have any, so I went over to Mom and Dad’s rooms. They had two small bars, so I just added a handful of milk chocolate chips, until I figured I had seven ounces. It said to melt this chocolate with one-half cup milk and one-and-one-half cups miniature marshmallows (or 16 large). I went to the pantry to get them. Oh no! No marshmallows left. So again I borrowed from Mom. I cooked this mixture until smooth and melted. I stirred and stirred. Why don’t all my chocolate chunks melt? I wondered. Emily reminds me that those candy bars from my mom had almonds in them. (Obviously I need more sleep.) I cooled the mixture, folded in two cups whipped whipping cream, poured all into a baked crust, and refrigerated for at least three hours. It was simple and delicious.

  I also made a cherry pie for Wayne. I can easily leave that pie alone, but the apple pie I made a couple days earlier is harder to ignore—but I must. Now there’s one pie crust left, and then it’ll probably go quite a while before I get the urge again.

  This forenoon I went to the house of a church lady for brunch to celebrate her birthday. There was brunch casserole, mixed fruit, cookies, and huge, picture-perfect blueberry muffins. Also finger Jell-O with milk and instant pudding in it. That was good too.

  It’s high time for garden produce again, but I guess with our family I bake anyway, even with fresh fruits and vegetables available. I think that’s part of our heritage.

  Last night coming in from choring,* I almost landed on the ground a couple times because of the mud. Our barnyard is terribly uneven from the freezing and thawing. The farm equipment leaves deep ruts, and with me almost sleeping, I have a hard time picking my feet up far enough to safely get me back to the house.

  By the time I got into the house and showered, it was close to 11:20. I made a round upstairs checking on all the children, making sure they were still in bed and covered. What’s sweeter than seeing your children peacefully sleeping?

  Today was just one of those days. I woke up with the flu, and when Mom doesn’t feel good, well, it just doesn’t go very well. I absolutely needed to do laundry, and it was a beautiful day to dry laundry outside. I thought I couldn’t miss out on the spring sunshine. Colleen sorted the clothes be
fore she went to school. Finally at nine o’clock I decided I might as well get up and at it. It took me until lunchtime, and I was exhausted by the time I got done.

  Jesse threw up three times before breakfast, and I thought, “Here we go! It really is our turn to have this bug.” Then he ate oatmeal and was fine after that. I didn’t even look at the oatmeal. Maybe I should have. I hit the couch when laundry was all on the line and barked orders to the girls from there.

  Emily made lunch for Wayne and the other little ones. It consisted of ham and lettuce sandwiches and some potato chips. She brought me her sandwich to show me how yummy it looked. She had two pieces of whole-wheat bread, Miracle Whip, a little bit of lettuce, and one piece of thin-sliced ham. I guess she choked hers all down because I didn’t find any remains. Wayne had to smile at his. He didn’t complain and ate it. She had used one pack of thin-sliced ham for all four sandwiches and had leftover meat. I would have used one pack per sandwich, especially for Wayne.

  JoAnn, the girl who drives Colleen and Karah to school, wanted to talk with me when she dropped off the girls this afternoon. I opened the living-room window that faces the road to speak with her. All at once the window tilted in and fell down on my head. Ouch! The inside windowpane shattered from the impact. My thick head didn’t shatter, but the crash did cause some stars to float around in front of me. Wayne wasn’t too concerned about my head, but he did wonder how come I didn’t go to the door instead of just opening the window. I felt like throwing a shoe at him because who would have thought the window would fall on my head? Oh well, I did get over it and decided not to harbor ill feelings.

  Talking about laundry again… I think our towels look so drab on the lines. They are all the same washed-off color from 14 years of laundering. Now the other night my mother-in-law gave me a new pretty pink one, and it really brightens up the wash line! I do enjoy the simple, little things in life.

  Emily and Jolisa often have to wash the dishes while I do the laundry. Jesse loves to help, and, oh my, what a mess they sometimes have. Jesse is usually very wet and sometimes the messes they leave behind make me wonder if it was worth it to get them to do dishes. Then the next time it goes better again, and I think they’ll get it spotless one of these times.

  One day for lunch we decided we were thirsty for chocolate milk. Emily put the container of Nestlé’s Quik on the table. I was busy with other lunch preparations. Jesse was quiet, and I was enjoying it—but I should have known better. All at once Jolisa said loudly, “Mom, look what Jesse did!” Nestlé’s Quik was all over the table and floor. Having my back turned for a few minutes is all it takes for a busy little two year old. He’s so busy, but oh how we enjoy the sunshine he casts on all our days.

  I have a brand-new walk-in pantry! Celebrate with me! There was just one door between our kitchen and my mom and dad’s living room. Nothing against Mom and Dad, but it allowed us very little privacy. For seven years I dreamed of making a pantry at the end of their living room. The new pantry has two doors, one from our kitchen, and the other from their living room. It is nice and roomy with nice shelves, insulated walls, and room for the folding chairs, the sweeper, and so much more. It still allows us to get to my parents’ from the inside, but also gives us so much more privacy.

  In December we lost a good workhorse mare to twisted gut. We had been looking forward to having her foal in early spring. Now Saturday night, we discovered her daughter, due to foal this week, was in distress. We had the vet out. He treated her and told Wayne he has to keep walking her and to not let her roll. It was close to 9:00 when the vet came, so at 9:30 I went out to milk. Wayne said I either had to keep walking Bunny or milk alone. I led her for a few minutes while Wayne put more clothes on. The decision was not a hard one for me to make. I would much rather milk 30 cows alone then lead one horse that’s not supposed to lie down and roll, when that’s exactly what she wants to do. Draft horse hooves are just too huge for my little feet—and in the dark to boot. Bunny didn’t survive the night. It was a bitter pill to swallow. We had a good mother–daughter team that was very dependable. Must we have carried too much pride in them? We didn’t think so.

  Wayne gets the enjoyment of getting used to new horses we bought at a sale. It’s a good thing the horse sale was right after losing Bunny because it’s not a good time of the year to be without horses. Wayne talked me into going to the Topeka Horse Sale. I highly doubt I would be able to get him to go with me to a ladies convention with several thousand women present. I knew Emily, Jolisa, and Jesse would enjoy it, so I decided I’d go. It was okay as long as I was sitting, but climbing those bleachers trying to be halfway ladylike, trying not to fall, and trying to help the little children—well that just wasn’t my cup of tea! I did get to visit with some people, and that made the forenoon worthwhile.

  Year 1

  Summer

  Looking out my kitchen window as I’m washing the dishes, I see cows sticking their heads out barn doorways and lazily chewing their cuds. I enjoy seeing a green pasture with Holstein cows relaxing in the sun.

  My girls flying around the circle drive on their bikes are having the time of their lives. Behind them comes Jesse on his trusty little red trike, putting all his effort into pumping those pedals as fast as he can. He rode that squeaky thing in the house all winter, and he’s very attached to it. Riding it seems to be second nature for him. I enjoy the wonderful scenes of a gorgeous summer.

  We are eagerly awaiting our favorite summer meals. Lettuce, radishes, onions, asparagus, berries, yellow squash, cucumbers, tomatoes… it takes long to prepare these summer meals, but can you tell me what is better eating? My thoughts ramble on to cooked red potatoes smothered with cucumber salad. I am beginning to hallucinate!

  Our gas grill is a major appliance for us during the summer. We like to marinade chicken breasts in Italian dressing and then grill those for several minutes on a side. Those make some awesome sandwiches with fresh lettuce, onions, and tomatoes. During the summer, we generally have a meat, potato, and vegetable meal at noon, and then for supper we go light.

  I am really enjoying these warmer days. We had two months of the flu bug in our house, and it was time for a change of scenery. Brian, Emily, and Jesse were each sick for two weeks. They had earaches, headaches, and high fevers. Then Wayne got it. Oh my, it seems most women can identify with me that when the husband is sick… well, maybe it’s best left unsaid. With having to keep the children’s fever checked during the night, Wayne having a fever of 104.5, and milking three times a day, I was trying to survive with very little sleep. For three days I chored for eight hours. I gladly did it and everything went smoothly. Brian helped a lot too, as did a trusty farmer friend from church. The only other thing I accomplished that week was rubbing the children with Unker’s* on their chests, ears, backs, and bottoms of their feet. Wayne skipped eight milkings. What joy when he came to the barn again! Once he was back on his feet, I hit the sack and slept for quite a while. Wayne finally wondered, kiddingly, when the neighbors were going to come help him as they had helped me.

  We’re into the dust season again. With our house sandwiched between the gravel road and the barnyard, we just don’t have much choice except eat dust. We do have our windows open unless it’s extremely windy because I’d rather clean dust then breathe stuffy air. I love an open house with the curtains blowing in the breeze.

  Wedding bells are ringing! I even get some new dresses for these grand occasions. Getting married is such a serious step to take, but if two young souls are one with the Lord and choose to be married, what a cause for celebration. In old Bible times they celebrated for days. I’m sure that parents now are glad we just have one-day weddings. It costs an arm and a leg the way it is, but it’s well worth it.

  This year Mom and Dad celebrated their fiftieth anniversary, my sister Leanna and her husband, Al, celebrated their twenty-fifth, and Wayne and I hope to celebrate our fifteenth in October. Actually there probably won’t be a whole lot of celebrating as i
n going places and doing things, but there will be thanking the Lord for all his many blessings and praising him for allowing us to travel this way together for this many years.

  One Saturday this spring, Wayne encouraged me to go to the biannual Honeyville Consignment Sale with him. I agreed to go with the intention of getting a few bargains. A couple of other people thought so too. Our school has a lunch stand there each fall, so I know what it’s like on that end of the deal, but I’m not used to the buying end.

  I’m not one to take all my children to a babysitter, but this year they were old enough to stay at home. I thought I had too much work to do, but another part of me wanted to go. Brian and Jesse’s bed have springs poking through, and each night when they went to bed we’d be gently reminded of it. Neither the boys nor the little girls have dressers in their rooms. I would love to purchase a new living-room suite, but in reality I knew I would be lucky to come home with anything at farmer prices.

  That morning I started on the weekly cleaning, gave the girls some orders, and went out the door as if I had a great mission to accomplish. On the inside I felt immature and out of place. I was feeling like I would much rather stay at home and wash dishes and windows all day. It was a miserable day—cold and rainy, but it didn’t seem to keep people at home, which is good because there were a lot of things to sell.

  I spotted a couch I could’ve easily gotten used to in our living room, and also a bedroom suite with my name written all over it. I was nervous on bidding, but I tried to breathe deep and act mature. Somebody else wanted my couch too, so I gave up and let them have it. I did get a bedroom suite, but had to settle for the ugliest one there. Actually it’s half-decent. I had to get some famous Jones Fruit* topped with the most delicious caramel and almonds. The children had also ordered kettle corn, so I got two bags before heading home.

 

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