Last night it was like bugs to the light. We met our next door neighbours who were very nice and lived about 2 ½ hours north of the campground. After chatting with them for a while I decided that I would have a shower and prepare for some rest.
As I was hitting the shower Petal called out to me to answer a question for a new found friend and his two sons. I redressed and went out to see what was happening. I then met her friends, whose names I did not get at first but I believe his name was Billy Joe Witt, and his two sons Half and Dim. As the night progressed in darkness’ I neglected to turn out our outside light and this seemed to attract Mary Lout Witt and three of the remaining four sons, F... Witt, Nit Witt and Half Witt. Intelligent questions were the asked by the lads such as Did you drive from Orstralia?, Why Not?, Isn’t there a bridge? Plus a multitude of other jaw dropping, mind blowing alternatives. I was told stories of snakes that ate alligators and eventually split with the alligators escaping and wonderful tales of guns and hunting and midnight bonfires at the campground, of which we were to experience in days to come. It seems that the Witt family came from New Jersey and ventured south to North Carolina to seek employment unsuccessfully. They then travelled to Intercourse to the campground, where Billy Joe was offered employment in campground as a general fix it man. I think he either started only a couple of days ago or his fix it skills haven’t been applied as yet.
After an enthralling few hours with the Witt Family, one was absent in the Marines and the two eldest are due to enter the service, I excused myself and entered the Luvshack and proceeded to head but the cupboard for about half an hour for assistance to go to sleep. Petal then came inside and was duly informed that if her friends were to call again that I may be busy doing my hair, nails or other personal grooming at the time.
OK lets get back to it. Early breakfast at an Amish buffet which was extremely disappointing as far as the flavour of the food. Plenty of it but it was not prepared with TLC.
Leaving there and negotiating with the numerous buggies on the road we parked at the Kettle Village and Petal tried her hand at shopping at her first Quilt shop for the day. Having successfully completed this task she decided she would venture further. I indicated my intention of exploring the village a series of shops with everything Amish. Only three stops for me, the Roasted Rooster Coffee Shop, The Smokehouse Deli to taste there samples and there Village Cannery to taste their samples. The Village Cannery has been in operations for over fifty years and still hand makes all their pickles preserves and bakery in full view of the customers and is staffed by young and old Amish women. To describe the tastes of their goods from simple dips and relishes to the banana flavoured peanut butter is impossible. After hoovering all the samples I was drawn like a Witt to the flame to the sound of Jazz and Blues coming from the Courtyard.
This sound was a 71 year old large African American on banjo and his mate on acoustic guitar so I squared myself away with my caramel macchiato on a bench in the shade and listed to them for their next three brackets or approximately 3 hours as Petal went beserk in the quilting shops of Intercourse.
During my jazz appreciation symposium, I asked a passing tourist where he came from in Australia and he and his wife were astounded that I could pick them out without any giveaway talking/accent in front of me. The reply was Sydney or about three hours from Sydney between Goulburn and Cowra. I said, Oh Bigga. Turns out they were and knew of Barry Dabin a Police mate of mine in the eighties. Prior to their departure they inquired as to my method of deduction and I said that the R M Williams moleskins and boots could have been the giveaway.
Petal then returned and after a bowl of black cherry ice cream at the recommendation of my new found friend the banjo player we said adieu and visited a few of the shop, returning to the cannery and purchasing some relishes and a small Shoo Fly Pie for consumption that night. Shoo Fly Pie consists of a biscuit base with a caramel, sugar and molasses centre topped by breadcrumbs.
During my time on the seat watching the band I wore out four new friends who sat next to me. The first was from North Carolina and was extremely interest by Australia, the second was more interested in her ice cream, the third was about 140 and fell asleep as soon as his wife went shopping and only awoke when she violently shook him on her return with the statement,"Are you awake or dead?" and the fourth had a tribe of rug rats with him.
Old mate from Carolina had mentioned a quilt shop some 10 miles from Intercourse so I decided to surprise Petal and take her there on his recommendation. On our arrival Petal estimated that there was up to 2000 quilts in various shapes and forms, with some antique quilts dating back to the mid 1800s. After some time there, some time, we returned to our campground base.
Here comes the part about the late night bonfires. About 10pm there appeared a glow in the windows of the Luvshack as we watched the latest edition of The Closer on cable. Ignored the first occasion but on the second and third I decided to take a beer outside and have a squiz, The Witt boys and some of their mates were igniting the wood in the fire pit adjacent to our camp with petrol. Now this probably would be of no concern except that there is a bloody 40 knot breeze blowing towards the L/S. So after a couple of rounds of the L/S and a couple of beers I think they got the idea and the fire was extinguished. End of fire but late night yahooing in the amenities hut did not go down well. Oh to be young again with the combined IQ less than that of my lounges IQ.
Good Night
