A family book excerpt - Apple picking and Trip to Centerville, Ia.

The night was dark and cold. What was left of it anyway. On Thursday morning, we woke up at four thirty before the alarm went off at five, anxious to start our day. There was breakfast and chores to do before we made the journey to Centerville, Iowa. It takes a little over two hours to get there, but the scenery kept us interested, and coffee from a thermos kept us alert. As the sun peeked over the horizon, we were well down the road, watching for deer and turkey.

The back seat was empty for the first time in years, and I wished it could have been different. This time my Aunt Jean didn't get to go with us. Twenty years ago when she knew we were going on a vacation to visit her sisters she called me and asked to reserve the back seat. When she declined to go this week, she said she'd miss pestering Harold. For sure he missed her. I'm not as observant at their game of “I Saw The Deer First.” Harold usually wins the first go around with Aunt Jean coming up a close second. One time Aunt Jean was determined to come out the winner. She declared she saw a deer first. It was dead on the shoulder. Harold told her she couldn't count that one. The deer had to be alive. She accused him of making up the rules so he could win.

Cousin Lawrence was watching out the window when we arrived in Centerville. Before we had a chance to get out of the car he and Aunt Liddie were coming to greet us. Aunt Liddie opened the garage door so we could store the trunk full of fruit and vegetables in the cool we'd brought with us. A few weeks ago, Aunt Liddie said she'd like to have enough apples to freeze for pies, but she hadn't been shopping. We had more than we needed. I asked if she wanted a bushel. She said that was a great plenty. We took her three bushel. In half filled feed sacks the amount was deceiving. Half of the apples were yellow delicious anyway. They're still green so hopefully she'll have the red apples worked up before she has to start on the yellow ones.

We sat around the kitchen table drinking coffee for awhile, checked out their new flat screen television and the went to Manhattan Steak house to eat. I always take pictures in front of the place when we're there in the fall. A display of corn shocks, mums and pumpkins make for a nice back ground. Guess we were a couple weeks too early this time. All I could find for everyone to stand beside was a silly looking duck with a story to tell. Seems a Chicago gangster once hid out in the area and even applied for a marriage license in the Centerville Courthouse. He was killed two years later in a shootout at Milan, Missouri where he'd been hiding from the law.

After lunch, we traveled south of Bloomfield and shopped at a newly opened Amish Discount Store. I couldn't find anything I wanted, but Aunt Liddie had a small box full of goodies. South on highway 63, we drove to an Amish grocery store we go to every time we visit. This time I went wild buying Jello, a sack of each flavor of bulk Jello to use with fruit. Also, I bought four dozen can lids in a sack. Not sure which is going to run out first my empty jars, the canning lids or my enthusiasm for the job. Either way it will be good to know I've finished my fruit canning project.

We enjoyed the visit which seemed much too short, and after one last cup of coffee, we had to leave. Dark comes early now. Harold had to get home if he was going to gather eggs before the chickens went to roost.

The following story was in Aunt Jean's share of a book I wrote for my mother's family titled Digging Up Brights and Bishops. I didn't put the book on the market, because I thought only our family would be interested. However, I have started a version of this book with stories and pictures about the advancements that made a difference in our lives from the early 1900's to the 1950's when I was a kid in Vernon County, Missouri. Things like going from a wood ice box to electric refrigerator. A wash board and tub to a wringer washing machine. That book will be on the market soon. So here is another story about me picking apples with my Aunt Jean and my cousin Debbie.

It was in 1980's when Jean, Debbie and I decided we were going out to Art Allen's Apple Orchard east of Belle Plaine, Iowa and pick apples to make money.

I didn't think that job through as throughly as I should have so I made a good candidate for Murphy's Law. What could go wrong did. Art Allen was tickled to have the help. I can see why now.

We began by filling our baskets from down falls on the ground the first day until Mr. Allen came along and catch on to what we were doing. He said we had to climb the tree and get the good apples. Those were the ones that made him money. He showed us how to pluck the apple stems off the limbs in just the right way so next year he'd have a good apple crop. He pointed to where some of the wooden step ladders were sitting among the trees. I didn't mind carrying a ladder over to the tree, but I'm afraid of height so climbing the ladder as high as I could go wasn't a good thing for me.

But eager beaver I was so I went through the trees after the ladder. When I tilted it toward me, I didn't realize how top heavy the ladder would be. I lost my grip when the ladder came at me and bent my thumb backward farther than it was ever suppose to go. In just a short time, my thumb was three times bigger than it should be and throbbing.

Debbie Showers, good sport that she is, offered to climb up the ladder to pick so Jean and I let her. The apple crop was good that year. The limbs drooped to the ground. Jean and I could easily picked what we could reach.

The next day, the ladder was in another spot so I went after it again, making sure to be more careful this time. At least I thought I was going to be. As I carried the ladder I tripped over a stick in the grass and the ladder whammed me in the shin. Ouch! I sucked up the pain and managed to limp on over to Debbie.

For outdoor women, the days were beautiful fall days, crisp and dewy, to start with then the sun put just enough heat in the air that we warmed up. Now is where I tell you the ladder I chose had a false bottom at the top. The bees hibernating in that ladder top warmed up to with Debbie sitting on it. Next thing we knew, darting buzzers was flitting all around us. Debbie screamed as she came down the ladder and grabbed her legs one place than the other. The bees had crawled up her slack legs. She was in misery and making the bees really mad. One of them came at me and stung me on the cheek.

There was an old man high in a tree a few apple trees away. He saw what was happening and he yelled at Debbie, “Get out of those pants.”

Jean and I agreed with him.

Debbie said, “I can't take my slacks off in front of that man.”

“Take them off,” yelled the man.

Jean looked over in the next row at a yellow delicious weighed to the ground with apples. A good place to hide. “Go behind there, Debbie, and get rid of the bees.”

Meanwhile, Jean and I were moving over to another tree without the ladder to get away from the angry bees. Debbie came back out, smarting in various places but she shook loose the bees. All of a sudden, the boss, Mr. Allen, showed up in his golf cart and wanted to know what the commotion was all about.

I told him about the ladder being full of bees, and Debbie was stung several times. If he wanted proof he should just look at my cheek. It was swelling up even as we speak. The old man came very close to me to study my cheek with his jaws working back and forth. He said with sincerity, “Chewing tobacco is good for bee stings. Stand still and I'll spit on that sting.”

“No thank you,” I replied as I backed behind Jean.

Now that I know the story about curing Short's snake bite with chewing tobacco perhaps that old man had the right idea. At any rate when I limped into the house that night, I took inventory. In three days I'd sprained a thumb, bruised a shin and had a smarting bee sting that disfigured my cheek. I'd had all the apple picking I wanted so I called Jean and told her I quit. That was the only job I didn't stick with. I so admired Aunt Jean and Debbie for sticking out the season that fall. Now that's what you call hearty Bright stock. I'm not sure why I didn't inherit the genes but oh well.

Excerpt Apple Butter Party from My Children Are More Precious Than Gold & Picking Apples

I'm switching from the Amish Series to my children's book since this chapter of My Children Are More Precious Than Gold goes along with apple picking season. When I wrote this book I thought it might be informative for children to know what life was like in 1903 in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. Perhaps, adults will like the book as well. Read the chapter and then I'll explain more about the book.

Apple Butter Party

Returning from the cold, clear spring that bubbled out of the base of the ridge behind the cabin, Nannie tucked a stray wisp of graying brown hair back into the bun on top of her head with one hand. She walked across her rock strewn, sparsely grassed yard, balancing a tin dish pan full of water on her hip with the other hand. Uncovering her high top shoes when she pulled her long skirt up, Nannie stepped from the plank sidewalk onto the porch, then she paused at the kitchen door, and turned to survey the laughing, shouting children playing Ante Over around the smokehouse. A good portion of those children were hers, and she searched for one in particular.

"Sarah Elizabeth!"

Wiping her straight, brown bangs from her eyes, Bess, waiting for the ball to sail over the smokehouse, studied a barn swallow's vacant dried mud, bowl shaped nest attached to the underside of the roof. A few weeks ago to protect her babies, the sassy barn swallow would dive down on the children when the ball came too close to her nest. Now the nest was empty.

At the sound of her mother's voice, Bess turned. "What, Mama?" When Mama didn't call her Bess, she knew she was in trouble for something.

"Ya and Jimmy Bob Parkins quit playen and take yer turn stirren the apple butter kettle. Alma and Jacky Tyler told me ya been shirken yer turn, and they’s getten tired of stirren."

"All right, Mama. Come on Jimmy Bob. We've got to go stir now."

As they turned to leave the game, a big red ball sailed over the tin smokehouse roof, and Bess heard a thud, then a loud, "Ow!" She looked back into Jimmy Bob's pained face. He was gingerly rubbing the unruly shock of black hair on the top of his head.

"Ouch. Bess, that dang ball hit me square on top the head. That hurt!"

"Surely not, Jimmy Bob. There's nothen up there to hurt, is there?" Bess giggled then darted off to the corner of the yard with Jimmy Bob chasing after her.

That corner of the yard was bare of greenery due to the frequent fires under the large, black kettle that was used for soap making, lard rendering, heating water for wash day, and apple butter making. The only living plant within that corner of the yard's wattle fence was the mulberry tree. Now with the very sweet, blackberry like fruit long gone, the tree showed the fall coloring of mid September.

Right away Bess noticed the grouchy look on Alma's flushed face. She was tired of standing over the steamy, bubbling apple butter mixture while it simmered. Handing over a long stick with the T- paddle board tied to the end of it, Alma grumbled, "About time ya two took over. Yer late. Jimmy Bob, get some more wood from off that rick yonder. The fire's getten low," ordered Alma.

"I'm sorry, Alma. I hated to miss out on the fun," Bess confided, lowering her voice to a whisper, "Besides why do I always get stuck with Jimmy Bob? It’s not fair that he never wants to stir. Makes me do most of it while he sits and talks."

"Cain't hep that. We had our turn and then some. Come on, Jacky." Bess watched wistfully while Alma and Jacky ran to join the fun around the smokehouse.

Arms full of wood, Jimmy Bob returned. He threw a stick at the fire under the kettle then dropped the rest, scattering it on the ground.

"Jimmy Bob, don't throw that wood down like that. Ya jest got ashes all over my apron."

"So? It'll wash."

"Wash day's not fer two days yet. I'll jest have to turn it over and use the clean side when we're done, but I'll know it has ashes all over it on the underside," growled Bess.

In those days, the girls were given three dress and two Mother Hubbard aprons. One dress was for good and the other two for ever day. One of the ever day dresses was worn to school for a week. The first two days an apron covered it, then the last three days the dress was worn without the apron. The next week, Bess wore the other ever day dress and apron while that dress and apron were in the wash.

Looking at the dried brown ring crusted on the top of the fifty gallon iron kettle left as the apple butter boiled down, Bess wondered if the apple butter wasn't thick enough to empty out of the kettle so they could start over. "Jimmy Bob, go to the kitchen and tell the women one of them should come take a look at the kettle and see if this apple butter is done."

As she watched Jimmy Bob scurry for the cabin, Bess listened to the sounds of happy voices and laughter coming from the kitchen while the women worked together. The neighboring farmers had dropped their women, children and apples off early that morning. As soon as two or three big wooden barrels of apples were pared, a fire was started under the iron kettle, the apple slices dropped in, and a little apple cider added to keep the apples from scorching. While they shared stored up gossip and family happenings, the women peeled apples and prepared a noon meal of smoked ham, sweet potatoes, corn, boiled potatoes, turnip greens, and of course, apple pies.

Outside the children played games while waiting for their turn to stir the apple kettle. For some reason, the children were always paired, a boy and a girl, to take turns. Bess suspected it was because the boys didn't like to work so this was the way the women made sure the apple butter wouldn't burn.

Stick thin Mrs. Parkins came from the house, carrying a large crock to ladle the apple butter into. "Sit down, younguns and rest while I empty this kettle then we'll bring out more apples for ya all to start stirren again." She talked so slow that Bess wanted to finish her sentences for her to hurry the conversation along, but Mrs. Parkins had always been a hard worker. Jimmy Bob’s looks favored his mother, but he sure didn’t inherit worken from his mother, Bess thought.

Sometime later as she wipe sweat from her brow, Bess pleaded, "Jimmy Bob, take a turn stirren. I got to get away from this fire fer a minute."

"I reckon I kin take a turn," Jimmy Bob drawled out.

Forgetting about keeping her dress clean, Bess flopped down on the ground in the shade of the mulberry tree so she could stretch her dusty, tanned legs out before her. She spotted the blue-gray blur of a mockingbird when it fluttered through the branches above her, causing almost as much of a gentle swinging motion to the tree limbs as did the light breeze.

"Jimmy Bob, feel that cool breeze. It's comin' off the ridge. I kin hardly wait fer evening to bring some coolness, then it won't seem so hot by the kettle fire directly."

"Yep," grunted Jimmy Bob as he half heartily moved the T- paddle around in the kettle and at the same time wishfully watched the children playing by the smokehouse.

It’s somethin’ how quiet Jimmy Bob gets when he has to work a little, mused Bess while she watched the boy. "Jimmy Bob, did ya ever see so many apples as people brung this time? This year must have been the biggest apple crop in years. My Pap said there must have been ice hangin' on the tree branches on Valentine Day fer sure this year. He says that's a sign of lots of fruit in the fall." She shifted positions, then continued, "I didn't think the men were ever goen to get all those apple barrels unloaded and carried up by the house this mornen."

"Yep. Sure was a lot of apples. Is it yer turn now?" Jimmy Bob backed away from the kettle and quickly sat down before Bess could answer.

Late that evening in the yellow glow from the pitch pine torch stuck in the middle of the yard, the younger children listened to ghost stories told by the older children. From the underbrush on the ridge, whippoorwills cried their lonely cries, "Whip - Poor -- Will." The resounding hoot of a barred owl echoed across the ridge, adding to the uneasiness the children felt from listening to the ghostly tales. They watched weird shadows rise up, grow, disappear and reappear on the cabin wall as the women moved back and forth from the kitchen to across the yard, emptying the kettle for the last time.

All the women furnished a portion of molasses or brown sugar to flavor the apple butter before they ladled the thick, brown mixture into one and two gallon crocks. White cloth lids were cut and securely tied on to prepare for the journey home on the dusty roads. Once home the apple butter would be stored in the cool underground storm cellar or in a spring house where it’d stay while portions of it were ladled out to use on hot biscuits.

Around eleven o'clock the party began to break up. Bess, head nodding, roused at the creaks and groans from horse drawn jolt wagons and oxen carts coming down the lane. The ridge farmers were returning to pick up their families. The empty apple barrels were loaded on the wagons by the men while the women brought out their crocks of apple butter, then gathered their children to settle them in the wagons. By then everyone was exhausted from a long day of work and play and ready to go home to their beds. Bess, along with her brothers and sisters, headed to bed too as soon as everyone left.


This was the first book I wrote. The inspiration behind the book was from a copy from a newspaper my mother, Sylvia Bullock, kept in her sideboard in the kitchen. My grandmother, Veder Bright, gave it to her. This was Veder's sister, Bess's interview by a granddaughter for a Four H project. The questions were about the Bishop's family life in the Blue Ridge Mountains near Riner, Virginia at the beginning of the 1900's. Bess was two years older than Veder, and they were near the end of a brood of 12, one of which was stillborn. They lived on a hardscrabble seventy acre ridge farm until they moved to Lakota, Iowa that was called Germania in 1910. Bess was ten and Veder was 8 at that time. Bess's memory of how hard life was in Virginia was still etched in her mind at an elderly age so she gave an interesting interview.

I got the title and ending for the story from my Grandma Bright's bible. After she passed away, one of the daughters was looking at the family page. Grandma had put down each child. After the last one, number eleven, was born she had a hysterectomy. Under his name was the passage My children are more precious than gold. Life was never easy for Veder and John Bright with so many children to take care of, but they were loving parents and raised great children.

Not all of the stories in the book are from Veder's childhood. There's one my father told about fishing with dynamite, and another about robbing a bee tree for honey on a cool fall morning when Dad took John and I along.

Harold on the ladder picking apples

I did a author interview for Smashwords.com last week where I sell my books and ebooks. I want to share the link with you https://www.smashwords.com/interview/booksbyfay

Excerpt from Hal's Worldly Temptations-book 3 in Nurse Hal Series & Old Thrasher Reunion

Nurse Hal decides she wants to have a family outting with her new family. Read on to see how she talks her husband, John Lapp, into letting her drive the family in her car to Mt. Pleasant, Iowa for the Old Thrasher's Reunion. What should have been a day to enjoy turned into a disaster when the Lapp family get caught.



One evening in late August. Hal delighted in listening to summer sounds coming through the living room screen door. Living here was so totally different from the apartment in Wickenburg. In town, she'd been closed in. The only sounds were the rumble of the air conditioner, and cars.

Living in a house with a screen door and dim lighting, a person could imagine being outside in the evening in the fading daylight without having to put up with mosquitoes or gnats. The green peepers yeeped, and crickets rubbed their scratchy legs. Moths fluttered against the screen and lightening bugs glimmered just beyond the porch.

An owl hooted, causing Hal to jump. The bird was perched close. The children had already gone to bed so Hal and John had the living room all to themselves. Hal carried a chair over by the rocker so she could sit close to John.

“That owl is really close,” Hal said, patting John's knee.

“He's high in the shade tree, looking down on us. Probably smells the chickens. Gute thing they have a building to live in. That owl would be eating one right now,” John told her as he concentrated on the newspaper.

“John?”

“Jah?” he said absentmindedly.

“School will be starting soon. We need to do something fun for a change as a family while the children aren’t in school,” Hal said. “The summer has gotten away from us.”

John put the newspaper, Die Botschaft, down on his lap. “What did you have in mind?”

“How about going to the Old Thrasher’s Reunion at Mt. Pleasant this Sunday? Have you ever been?”

John nodded. “Jah, when I was small my parents hired a driver to take us.”

“I know the kids would love seeing all the exhibits -- the machinery and horses. It starts Thursday but coming up is the in between Sunday so I thought instead of visiting anyone, we could go to Mt. Pleasant,” Hal suggested.

“Sunday is only a few days away. This is maybe too short a notice for me to find someone to drive us,” John said, debating whether to say yes.

“We could take my car. I’ll drive,” suggested Hal offhandedly.

John lifted an eyebrow in annoyance. “Hal, you know better than that. You are not to drive your car anymore.”

“What would it hurt this one time? I still drive my car to work in Wickenburg, and no one has said anything. Sunday we would be a two hour drive away from home. No one will know that we went anywhere in the car or how we got to Mt. Pleasant if they knew we were gone,” Hal argued.

“I would know,” John said shortly.

“Yes, but I haven’t been told yet by the bishop that I have to get rid of the car. Technically, I should be able to still use it, shouldn’t I?” She asked.

“I don’t think so. Now that you are Plain you must obey the Ordnund laws. It seems to me you must do as the laws say without being told so by the bishop. Let me think about this matter,” John said.

“Just keep in mind, Margaret told me I was getting too serious about being Amish. I should lighten up. This trip to Mt. Pleasant seemed like a good way to do it,” Hal informed him.

John gave her a weak smile. “Margaret said you needed to lighten up? Perhaps, she is right, but I think you will catch on to your lot in this family and the community in due time.”

“Thanks for the confidence in me, John Lapp,” Hal said, patting his hand.

The next morning, John came in the kitchen while Hal was alone. “All right. We will go to Mt. Pleasant in your car, but please do not ask to drive us anywhere else after this. I am afraid this is not the right thing to do. The Ordnund is set against such things.”

“I won’t ask again. At least not unless the bishop says it is all right to use my car,” agreed Hal.

“That is not going to happen. You should face it,” John said exasperated. “I’m telling you Plain people can not drive a car according to the Ordnund. You really should get rid of the car so you ---- er we are not tempted anymore.”

“I don’t want to face that yet. Give me time to get used to the idea of not having a car,” Hal pleaded. “Now let’s tell the kids what we're doing on Sunday.”

Sunday morning by daybreak they were packed in the car and on the long drive east of them. The children enjoyed the ride and the scenery. There was plenty of chatter in the back seat as they pointed out farm sights that interested them on the way. A John Deere tractor crossed a hayfield, pulling a rake that bunched up hay into windrows. Cattle herds, goat herds and various colors of horses speckled the hillside pastures.

When the Lapps arrived at the Mt. Pleasant city limits, Hal followed the signs along the streets to the Old Thrasher Reunion grounds. A man in the driveway of a parking lot a block from the ground’s entry way motioned Hal in. Another man pointed to an empty space on the end of the row of cars, facing the sidewalk. Hal maneuvered the car into the parking spot.

They walked along the sidewalk and stopped at the crosswalk that led to the ground’s entrance. Two policemen stood in the middle of the street, directing the traffic and pedestrians. One held his hand up to stop the Lapp family at the cross walk. He waved his arm to keep traffic moving slowly by. Finally, he held his hand up to stop the cars and motioned for the family to cross the street.

Ahead of them was the small building with a sign that indicated it was the ticket booth above the open window. Hal asked for tickets for five people. At the corner of the building, a man put a colored paper band on their wrists to show they had the right to be on the grounds and could come and go for the day.

Hal stopped at a visitor center not far behind the entrance. She bought a program book that was good for the whole Old Thrasher Reunion. Now they would know the where and when information for all the demonstrations.

“Each demonstration is at a certain time. Let’s see.” Hal ran her finger down the list of times. “It is 10:30 now. There’s a talk about old cars in the Antique Car Building about the 1909 Stanley Steamer,” Hal read and added, “Whatever that is.”

“Any discussions for Plain people about antique horses?” John said, grinning at her.

The children giggled.

Hal skimmed over the pages. “Very funny. I’m afraid not. Someone is telling how the boiler and cylinder on a steam engine works. West of the tractor collection is a demonstration on threshing wheat and baling straw.”

“That sounds interesting,” Noah said, and Daniel agreed.

“I’d like to look at the items for sale in the buildings of exhibits and crafts over there,” Hal said, pointing at the long buildings ahead of them.

Emma said to Hal, “I will go with the boys. You and Daed look around.”

“Are you sure, Emma?” John said.

“Jah,” she answered.

“Then I will go with Hal. We should meet up by lunch time at the gate entrance so we can eat together,” John planned.

John and Hal walked through the first long building filled with tables of crafts. They dodged around people and rented golf carts driven by people who had trouble walking. As they strolled to the next building, they listened to gospel music as a band played in the family tent.

Hal didn’t get excited until she spotted a bread pail in a tent full of old items. “That looks like the perfect birthday gift for Emma,” she exclaimed.

John slanted his head toward his shoulder. “What is it?”

“The price tag says this is a bread pail. See the crank on the side and the paddles in the bottom. The pail beats the bread,” Hal explained.

John chuckled, “I think bread gets kneaded. Not beat.”

“Fine then, but all Emma has to do is put the dough in and turn the crank. The paddles do all the work,” Hal told him.

“Not all the work if Emma is turning the crank,” John said in good humor.

Hal picked the pail up and looked it all over. “You know what I mean. This galvanized pail looks brand new. It should be worth the price.”

“Maybe the fact that it looks new should tell you something,” John surmised.

“What?”

“That the pail didn’t work for what it was intended so that is why no one else has bought it.”

“In that case, it won’t go to waste at our house if it won't work for bread making. You can figure out how to take the paddles and crank out. Emma can water her chickens with it,” retorted Hal. She picked the pail up and made her way around the line of people to the counter.

With so many exhibits on the vast grounds, it was hard to get through everything going on. They walked though the rows of old tractors which took awhile since this exhibit interested John. Hal tried to keep him on track to come out at a line of booths with canvas overhangs for shade.

About half way along the booths, Hal stopped and pointed excitedly. “John, that's interesting.”

He looked doubtful. “An old machinery seat on an old painted milk can? Why is it interesting?”

“Will you look past what it is and think what it could be?” Hal complained.

“All right, Hal, I give up. What can it be?”

“An incentive to get the boys to fish in the pond more for the fun of it. This can be our winner’s fishing throne,” Hal decided.

John caught the tag flopping in the wind and groaned, “For that price, it should have a place at our table.”

Hal brightened up.

“I was just teasing,” John said quickly.

“I want one of those milk cans. The bright blue one I think with the red seat. It would be so good to get the boys to think of the pond as a place of enjoyment again instead of conjuring up sad memories. I’ll buy it, but it's heavy. You carry it back to the car for me, please.” Hal took the pail from him.

“Using this seat will not take away the bad memories the kids have about the pond,” John told her.

“I know that, but I'm hoping maybe the seat will make new and better memories,” Hal said.

“Maybe so but don't expect the boys memories about fishing in the pond to be any better as long as their sister, Emma, catches the most fish. She will probably be the one sitting on the seat most of the time,” John predicted.

“So be it.” Hal said, not about to change her mind.

The milk can seat dangled from his hand as John shook his head all the way through the entry gate. Hal walked along beside him, holding on to the bread pail. She thought this was a great outing for the Lapp family, and she was pleased with her great buys.

Since it was near noon, Emma and the boys made their way to the entrance. Noah pointed as he spotted their parents in the distance, headed along the sidewalk toward the car. He frowned as he asked, “What are they carrying?”

“Looks like Daed has a milk can, and Mama Hal has a milk pail,” Daniel guessed, squinting to get a better look. “Does this mean we are going back to milking cows by hand?”

“Ach, I hope not,” Noah retorted.

“Ach, nah,” cried Emma softly, covering her cheeks with her hands.

“I am glad to see you agree that we should not go back to the old way of milking, my schwestern,” Noah said, smiling at her concern.

“That is not what is worrying me,” Emma said abruptly.

“Was ist letz?” Noah asked.

“Turn around to face this way quickly, and I will tell you what is the matter,” Emma said urgently. Grabbing both boys by their shoulders, she swung them around so they faced a shelter house with pony rides for young children.

“What is wrong with you?” Noah repeated tersely.

“Stella and Moses Strutt are standing by the visitor center booth. They are staring at Hallie and Daed. I do not want Stella to see us and come over here,” Emma hissed.

Noah looked over his shoulder. “Uh oh! Emma, she is watching Daed open the trunk on Mama Hal’s car.”

Emma looked back. Stella had moved and was now leaning on the grounds fence. With her husband beside her, she had a hand shading her eyes and was standing in a wide legged stance. A look of discovery was on her face.

“I think we’re in big trouble,” Emma predicted. “We must tell Daed and Hallie.”

“Maybe not,” Daniel replied. “We can not be sure Stella Strutt will do anything.”

“Daniel is right,” Noah reasoned. “We are having fun. We are already here. We should just not say anything about seeing Stella. What harm is there in our being here if it is a place that Stella Strutt comes to see. Why should we leave early because of her?”

“It is not that. It is the fact that Hallie drove her car, Noah,” Emma explained frankly.

“Still maybe this will turn out all right. Why spoil the day?” Noah reasoned.

“You are probably right,” Emma agreed although she looked doubtful. “Quick, get out of sight until Stella and Moses move on.”

“I hope that is before Daed and Mama Hal run into them,” Noah said as they took shelter behind the public restrooms.

When an a man on the loud speaker listed the name of church tents furnishings lunch, Stella and Moses turned from the fence and disappeared into the crowd. The children edged back to the entrance in time to meet Hal and John by the ticket booth, getting their wrist bands checked. Hal stopped to checked her guide book for places to eat and what was happening next. “There is the Cavalcade of Power parade. We could watch all the steam engines start up and parade around the grandstands. After that, we can pick one of the tents to eat in.”

Emma readily agreed with that plan. If they picked the same place to eat as the Strutts, maybe the couple would have finished eating and be gone by the time they got in the lunch line.

That afternoon, the Lapp family visited the North Village. John ushered his children past the Golden Slipper Saloon as fast as he could. He’d heard the loud music from down the block and the feisty singing. He took a quick peek over the bat wing doors at the scantily dressed women, in short black and red skirts, doing a cancan dance. One glance at the black fishnet stockings on bare legs caused John to avert his eyes. He certainly didn't want his children to see the dancers.

Hearing the boastful challenges in the middle of the street, they stopped to watch the gunslingers American West Show. That was fun. The blustering bank robbers argued with the sheriff and his deputies until the law was forced to kill all the bank robbers in a shootout.

School was in session at West Pleasant Lawn School at the end of the block. Anyone could come into the one room school house for the spelling bee. Hal tried to talk Emma into trying, but she refused.

At two that afternoon, they watched a horse powered saw mill in action, splitting a large log into boards. Then they walked through the RV park to the pioneer village. The log cabin, one room school house in session, and a barn with cows, ducks and chickens was fun to see. Everything helped them imagine what it was like in the 1850's. Hal bought each of them a large cup of ice tea at the concession stand before they watched the blacksmith at work. Finally, they looked through a wood work shop. Noah and Daniel really showed an interest in watching the carpenters when they made dovetail ends on a drawer to put it together without nails. At the log barn, Emma got a kick out of watching two small English girls trying to see under a brood hen. When the hen finally moved over, four fuzzy yellow chicks were exposed. One of the little girls pointed out the chicks had their beaks open, panting.

The man in charge of the barn said, “This is a hot day. The chicks are too warm.”

“I'd be too warm too if I had to sit under a mother with that heavy coat on,” replied the girl.

That remark tickled Emma.

After awhile, the family headed back to the main grounds. John gave the kids money to buy each of them a bag of popcorn. They got in the long line. All the time, Emma kept a watchful eye around her, hoping against hope that Stella Strutt had tired of all the walking and went home.

At four o'clock, Hal read off the list of events. “Some of these are a repeat of the morning shows.”

John said, “I think we should head for home. It will be after milk time when we get there.”

“I think you’re right,” Hal said. “My feet are tired. I feel like I’ve walked miles today.”

“That is because you have, Mama Hal,” Daniel chirped.



Soon the women were busy chatting and putting the finishing touches on supper. What Hal was too busy to see before the milking was done was the buggy that pulled up by the barn. Bishop Bontrager and Deacon Enos Yutzy climbed down and disappeared into the barn. Looking way too serious, they nodded at Luke Yoder, leaning against the barn wall.

Elton said in a staid manner, “Preacher Yoder, we are all together at last.”

“Jah, we are. This is the right time to have our meeting. I will get John,” Luke said solemnly. He turned toward the milking parlor and walked past the boys. Noah was wiping a cow's bag with the iodine solution. Levi was sliding a full scoop shovel toward the end of the gutter. Daniel held the milking cups under a cow's bag and released them as they sucked up the teats. Josh stood, hands in his pockets, relaxed against the barn wall with no intention of helping. Luke tapped John on the shoulder as he took milking cups off a cow. Rather than yell above the generator rumble, Luke pointed toward the ministers by the door. John straightened up and spotted the men. Luke motioned for Josh to take over. The young man reluctantly unfolded from against the wall and sauntered over.

John handed Josh the milking cups and went to greet the minister and the deacon. “Wilcom, Elton and Enos. What brings you here? Coming to Emma’s birthday party?”

“Nah,” the bishop said, looking apprehensive.

“We want to have a private talk with you, John,” Enos said reluctantly.

“It looks serious. Come away from the noise.” John led the way down the alley between the stalls to the far end of the barn so they could talk without shouting. “Now what can I do for you?”

“This is official church business.” Elton cleared his throat before he finished. “Bruder Lapp, we all realize there are certain temptations for all of us. Always ----,” his voice trailed off as he licked his lips and studied his shoes.

Enos stroked his beard as he continued, “What Eldon is trying to say is we have been made aware ----.” He looked over John’s head at a cobweb and tried to find the words.

“Was ist letz?” John asked point blank.

With a somber expression, Preacher Luke Yoder finished with, “John, give us time to explain what is the matter. These gute men are finding this a hard meeting to have with you, because we have all always been gute friends. What they want to say is, we have been told you were tempted and broke one of the rules of the Ordnund.”

“Which one?” John asked, but he knew before he had to be told.

“No riding in a car driven by a Plain person,” the bishop got out. “Stella Strutt has been to see me. She says she saw you at Mt. Pleasant with your family. She says you went there in Nurse Hal’s car. Tell me, did someone else go along and drive the car for you? That would make a big difference.”

“Ach, nah! I can not tell you that,” John said, wiping his sweaty forehead with his shirt sleeve. “Hal drove. I knew it was wrong when we went. I tried to talk her out of driving, but I was weak and as you say tempted by my wife. I have anguished over it ever since. I do not like the guilty feeling, knowing that I sinned against the church. I am so very sorry that I was weak.”

Bishop Bontrager looked relieved. He nodded at the deacon and then Preacher Yoder. “If the two of you are satisfied, I am, too. We all know John Lapp. He has never been one to go against Ordnund rules before. I accept his admission of guilt and his willingness to not sin in this manner again. I say we should let him move on and put this in the past.”

Both the deacon and Minister Yoder nodded that they agreed.

“One other thing, John,” the bishop began and grimaced, reluctant to bring the matter up. “How much does Nurse Hal use her cell phone?”

John shook his head slowly, wondering where this question came from. If he had to guess, he'd say from Stella Strutt. “Hal never uses that phone. She has it laid away somewhere in the clinic.”

“That is gute, but perhaps it would be better to throw the phone away to prevent more temptation on Nurse Hal’s part,” the bishop suggested strongly.

“By now, the battery has probably run down. She has no way to recharge it here,” John said.

“We will need to talk to her about these modern conveniences. Can you please tell her Deacon Yutzy, Preacher Yoder and myself want to see her at my house for a meeting at seven tomorrow night? We have to tell her she has to make her things right with the church by giving up the car and phone,” the bishop said gravely.

“I will tell her and come with her to the meeting,” John said.

“We will let you get back to your chores now so you can get in the house for supper and Emma’s birthday party,” the deacon said, holding out his hand to shake with John. “Have a good evening, Bruder Lapp.”

John stared after Bontrager and Yutzy as they left the barn. Luke put his hand on John’s shoulder. “I am sorry this had to happened. I would rather have been anywhere else than here this moment, my friend.”

“So would those two men who I know are my friends. It is not your fault that this happened. I strayed from the Ordnund. I have admitted it. If I am forgiven by the church, it is a big relief to me. I have felt such a weight because of my sin,” John told him.

“You are forgiven, but you realize the bishop has given you a warning with this forgiveness. If you are caught another time in Hal’s car with her driving, you will be called to a member meeting to make your things right. The punishment will be worse next time,” Luke warned.

“I know. I have learned my lesson,” John vowed. “Now if I could only figure out a way to talk Hal into getting rid of that car.”



Read Worldly Temptations in the Nurse Hal Among The Amish series to find out what happens to the Lapp family and Nurse Hal for driving her car.

My husband Harold and I have been to the Old Thrasher's Reunion many times. I've taken quite a few pictures I've used in books and blog posts. Many of the exhibits I found educational when it comes to writing about times gone by. Listening to people make comments about what they see is fun. I happened to be standing by the little girl that worried the hen's coat was too hot for the baby chicks. The bread making bucket was a source of amusement when I saw it. I looked it over well enough to describe it and connect it with Nurse Hal and Emma, but I didn't think it worth $20.

The last of August Harold saw an advertisement for the Reunion. He wisptfully thought about going, but the days were very hot. Walking around in the sun all day during record heat didn't sound like fun. There will be another time.

My Nurse Hal Amish Series book two - The Rainbow's End excerpt-and Gardening

My blog post today is an excerpt from my book The Rainbow's End which is book two in the Nurse Hal Among The Amish series. The series is set in the rolling hills of scenic southern Iowa on an Amish farm outside of fictional Wickenburg.

This excerpt takes place in the spring when Nurse Hallie Lapp is given gardening lessons by her step daughter Emma Lapp.



After lunch as Hal put a handful of silverware away, she asked, “Emma, what are we going to plant in the garden?”

“This family likes many different vegetables,” Emma said. She opened a drawer and took out a worn, frayed notebook. She handed it to Hal.

“What is this?”

“Turn to the last page that is written on. You will see where I have drawn lines for rows. Beside each row is the vegetable or flower’s name we will plant this spring.”

Hal opened the book on the table. The two of them leaned over it as Emma pointed out rows labeled peas, beans, beets, carrots, turnips, potatoes, lettuce and more. Around the edges, she planned to plant orange cosmos and yellow marigolds. The very back row nearest the house, Emma saved for her tall green cannas that bloomed a red flower. She had a basket of dried bulbs stored in the basement.

“I didn’t realize a garden took so much planning,” Hal said, mystified by the thought Emma had put into her garden.

“It is important to rotate the crops so I do not grow a vegetable in the same spot too long. If I keep track each year, I know that will not happen,” Emma told her.

Hal heard the restless shift of feet. She looked up to find John leaning against the doorway with his hands in his pants pockets. He had been listening to them. The smile on his face and the beam in his eyes told Hal he was proud of his daughter’s friendship with the woman he planned to marry.

He said, “Are you two about done planting garden in here?”

“Jah, for right now. We are going to continue for real soon enough.” Emma said, putting her notebook back in the drawer.

In another chapter -

Holding a handful of garden seed packets, Emma interrupted Hal’s revelry. “If you are not busy, want to help me plant some garden?”

“Sure. Looks like no one needs my nursing help this afternoon.” Maybe the fresh air will revive me, she thought.

“That is gute,” Emma said.

Hal opened the door and followed Emma out on the porch. “Where is the garden?”

Emma nodded toward the road. “That bare spot.”

“I wondered why there wasn’t any grass there, but I kept forgetting to ask. Why did you put milk jugs in the garden?”

“There is danger of frost until in the middle of May. The jugs protect the cabbage and tomato plants I set out,” Emma explained.

Hal couldn’t remember seeing vegetable sets in front of the feed store or at the tree nursery. “You bought sets somewhere this early?”

“Nah, I raised them from seeds.”

“Why do you have the garden along side the road?”

Hal could tell that sounded like a silly question to Emma. “Why not?”

“No reason. It’s just that my mom had her garden back behind the tool shed. It was sort of out of sight,” Hal told her.

“Why would I want to hide my garden?” Emma seem perplexed by the idea. She dropped the seed packets at the end of the garden. “It is of interest for Plain people to see how their neighbors gardens are doing when they drive by. Even English like to see what kinds of vegetables and flowers are planted in them.”

Changing the subject, Hal said, “Nothing better to eat than fresh vegetables from the garden.”

Emma nodded agreement as she went down on her knees. “We have to raise enough to can for winter. You want to learn how to preserve food?”

“Yes, I do. If you think you can stand trying to teach someone who is as dumb as I am about such things,” Hal said sincerely.

“Oh, Hallie. You are not dumb. Now we are going to start by planting radishes and lettuce,” Emma said, sorting the seed packets. A distant rumble turned her attention to the western sky. “Looks like a rain is coming. Dark clouds are banking up. If we hurry maybe we will have some of the planting and my chores done before the storm. I have been trying to start chores early so I can look for Zacchaeus.” She handed Hal the seeds before she picked up a hoe she dropped in the grass earlier. Giving the mellow dirt a whack with the hoe, she walked backward, making a small trench.

“What do you think happened to him?” Hal asked. Opening a packet of radishes, she bent over and dropped the seeds in the furrow.

“If he decided to roost out, a coon, skunk or possum could have got him. Maybe even a coyote. But he never does that,” Emma declared. “I think my brothers had something to do with his disappearing. It is a joke on me.”

“I can’t believe that Noah and Daniel would do that to you,” Hal said, opening the package of lettuce. She followed Emma as the girl made another row.

“Remember the duck eggs under my brood hen?”

“Oh.” Hal didn’t have a defense for that.

Absorbed in what they were doing, Emma and Hal forgot about the approaching storm until large, crystal clear drops pelted them. Emma dropped the hoe. A gust of wind caught the pile of seed packets, causing them to tumble over and over across the garden. Emma and Hal scrambled to gather up the remaining packets.

After Emma chased down the last packet, she yelled, “This is it. Run for the porch.”

Leaning against the porch wall, Emma closed her eyes and turned her face toward the sky. “Ain’t it something how a spring shower keeps up making down. Smell the clean air and wet dust.”

Hal stood beside her and looked out over the hayfield and pasture. The shower draped the fields in a silver veil. She took a deep breath. “As clean as the smell of fresh washed clothes drying on the line.”

“Jah.” Emma’s tone changed. “Oh, no! I forgot to bring in my clothes,” she cried. As an after thought she giggled. “Oh well, too late now. They will have to dry over.”

As quickly as the downpour started it ended. The overcast sky suddenly changed to sunshine. The sun caressed the earth and both of them with its light and warmth.

With excitement in her voice, Emma pointed. “Look a rainbow!”

The ethereal jewel-tone mist arched in the pasture just beyond the barn. “How lovely. As a child, I was told if I could find the end of the rainbow I’d find a pot of gold,” Hal said.

“That’s an English tale,” Emma scoffed. “The rainbow came about because God made a promise to Noah. He said, “I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and the earth. Whenever I bring clouds over the earth and the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will remember my covenant between me and you and all living creatures of every kind. Never again will the waters become a flood to destroy all life.” She paused, studying the rainbow, before she continued. “If they feel the need to make wishes, English people should not wish for something that has to do with wealth.”

Hal learned early, on once she got to really know Emma, she should listen to this wise girl’s thoughts. She was so very perceptive. Her insight into Amish life would be what was going to help Hal fit in. “What kind of wish, Emma?”

Emma paused to think before she spoke. “This could be many things. Maybe you should wish at the end of your rainbow to find happiness or health.”

“Happiness. I like that wish. For quite a long time now, I've felt as if happiness is just out of my reach. If I wish on that rainbow, I’m going to have to wish really hard if I expect my wish to come true,” Hal said softly.

Emma answered sagely, “Hallie, wishing for happiness does not make it happen. You have to work to get and keep happiness in your life. Now come with me. We have eggs to gather.”


This excerpt came from the second book in the series so to be properly introduced to Nurse Hal and the Lapp family you should start with A Promise Is A Promise book one. If you want to learn more about Nurse Hal and her life with the Lapp family my books and ebooks can be found in the Amazon and Kindle stores in English and several foreign languages, Smashwords and Barnes & Noble. I sell all the books I've written on my website http.www.booksbyfaybookstore.weebly.com. The site has my blog and so does Author Central on Amazon. You can find me on Twitter and Facebook if you want to follow and like me.

I haven't mentioned much about my books this summer so it's time I refresh everyone's memory. I'm an author of thirty books as well as a gardener. My books have a lot of my life experiences in them. A wise English teacher once told me to write what I know about. That's what I've been doing. I write the books I like to read with humor in them. My books are meant to entertain and for the most part be light hearted and easy for the readers to relate to the characters.

The books are written in 12 font which make them reader friendly, and though not advertised as large print, the books are easier to read. I used the larger print because I have elderly relatives that like to buy my books. I've since found the same easy reading that worked for my relatives is appreciated by other readers.

I'm busy this time of year taking care of my garden produce much like Emma Lapp so I can relate to her gardening techniques. My mother and the generations of women in my family before her grew up knowing how to plant, care for and preserve vegetables, berries and fruit for the long winters. They had large families in the Missouri Ozarks and very little money during the Great Depression. What they bought at the store was items like flour, sugar, and coffee. Their garden and meat they raised.

This year and last we've seen dry summer in central Iowa. That means watering the garden if we want it to produce. We're lucky to have a deep well. Not everyone can afford to use their water for fear of running the well dry.

We plant two gardens a year. The first one is in early spring, and when spots where we raised potatoes are cleared off, we plant a fall garden in late July or early August. After last year's fall garden didn't do well even with watering, we debated putting in another one this year. But we are eternal optimists. It had rained almost every day in Iowa during this spring. Rivers and creeks flooded around us several times. So maybe the summer's dry spell wasn't going to last. We planted. Maybe because it is in my husband and my DNA to keep sowing seed.

Picture is of radish rows when the plants were smaller.

So now we are reaping the harvest of lettuce, spinach, radishes and a late crop of tomatoes. Perhaps, we enjoy the fresh vegetables even more when we have to work so hard to keep them hydrated.