Thank you Winnie for your support, it means a lot to me, having you here. And everyone else, Welcome! I would like to have an adventure, lets walk down a trail and see what magic we can find, want to? There may be portals between the hedgerows and the corn fields so keep a good eye open. Whichever path we take let's keep nature close by our side and our hearts tuned to the divine, shall we? I have a feeling it's going to be grand. I'll meet you here by the blue door.
Sunday, June 13, 2004
Market Storm
by Trendle Ellwood
I have done quite a bit of bragging about how much I love to experience a thunderstorm. Well, I need to revise that a bit. I do love thunderstorms as long as I am viewing them from the safety of our own front porch.
There was a chance of a storm when we set up for market Wednesday evening. But when is there not a chance of a storm in our humid Ohio Junes? We went ahead and unfolded our awning and spread our tables, as did the other homesteaders. Soon we were busy selling our goods. I was passing out samples of our freshly made strawberry jam, which then sold it’s self. As I looked up and down the market row, I could see that the whole place was packed with people visiting the stands.
Mary the Coffee Café lady hollered at us that she had heard on the radio that the storm was 13 miles away. We all remained optimists, this threatening cloud would do like many a June cloud does, just sprinkle us a little then go on. Surely all these people would not be here sampling and buying if a storm were about to break loose.
Wrong! Suddenly we were getting dumped on with what seemed like bucketfuls of water from the sky, and the thunder and lightning were clanging and slashing through the air. I was gathering up our goods by taking the four corners of the tablecloths and drawing them together then throwing them into the back of the cab of the pickup truck in big scoops. People were gathered under our awning for what little protection it provided. I looked around me and saw that the other homesteaders were all doing the same flurried dance that I was.
We were soaking wet and wondering if the storm was going to ease or get worse. I could see the other homesteaders holding unto their awnings to keep them from blowing across the parking lot. Hubby lowered the storm facing side of our awning as a brace against the breaking wind. My thoughts were torn; here we had people hiding under our awning, now turned lean to, but yet what a risk we were taking holding unto metal poles in a thunderstorm! Swishing by our feet was at least four inches of water as the rain pelted down turning the pavement that we stood upon, into a rushing riverbed. I had the strangest feeling in my gut as I witnessed one of Amish man Dan’s angel food cakes swirling past us in this stream.
I kneeled down and stroked the cheek of the little girl who stood trembling beside me as we offered to help her and her mother to their car. With no idea if the storm was going to cease or get worse we made the decision to get our broken awning into our pickup trucks cab. The people ran through the lightning to their vehicles as we gathered up the rest of our stuff. Mary and some of the other homesteaders were helping us; we were all silly with stress, giggling in the rain like a bunch of crazies.
Just as we about got everything loaded up the storm seemed to lose intensity and the sky showed signs of clearing. Already wet to our bones we stood in the remaining rain as the homesteaders who had not retreated gathered to share stories. We decided if anyone had been able to video tape the scene of us all caught in that storm that it would have won us all some big bucks on the Funniest Home Videos Show.
The storm passed on as the last remaining raindrops came down. Most of the homesteaders packed up and left but there was still an hour left of market time so a few of us decided to remain. We spread out our tablecloths to dry and plopped our produce back upon the tables. We did continue to sell as more patrons arrived after the storm.
One fellow who had probably been in a local bar getting soaked in a different kind of way during the storm came by and I watched as he messed with Amish man Dan. Then he came over to our stand. He kept looking at my flowers, which were still beautiful with their blossoms of light blue and white Hydrangeas and pink and red Sweet Williams. He kept looking at them and exclaiming, “seven dollars!” “ Seven dollars!”
I was trying to figure out if he thought they were cheap or what as I wrung the water from my skirt. Then he told me that he would buy one for four dollars but seven! That was the final straw! Couldn’t this man even see that I had just stood here through a thunderstorm with my very life at risk! And now he wanted to dicker with me about the price of my flowers! Now folks I don’t know if this is what Jesus would have done, I doubt it, but I ended up telling this fellow to go pick his own! Amish man Dan got a big kick out of this and bent over in a big belly laugh. Meanwhile Hubby was warming up his fist in case it would be needed if his wife got herself into deep water. Deep water, hah!
All in all we were glad that we stayed as some of our favorite customers came by. One of Hubby’s honey fans bought five jars to take with her on a trip to England. She just loooooves our honey she told us. The breeze left over from the storm helped dry our clothing and a group of us decided to go out to eat at the Mexican restaurant afterwards. We must have been the most boisterous bunch at the place as we shifted our stress into laughter with storm reminiscing.
Brian, one of the homesteaders who is a bit on the ornery side had viewed the storm as a chance for a wet t-shirt contest as he checked out the drenched females. I kept my thick apron on until my shirt dried! The fellows at the restaurant decided that they were going to get back at Brian and next Saturday at Market he is going to be called forward for a special award. Brian is going to be presented with a wet t-shirt trophy for himself! I cannot wait to see the look on his face at that moment.
Am I sorry? Am I sorry that sometimes our way of making a living leaves us drenched to the bone? A big resounding no! No, because we are free, free to flow like the June storms. And although we may be baked by the sun and plastered by the rain at times, our souls are living and growing. And we are working for something that we believe in, the bounty that we produce with love from our little spot on earth. But I must say, the next time that a big ole storm sweeps down with it’s free heart, I do hope that I am not out in it but safe at home on our front porch.
Copyright © 2004, by Trendle Ellwood. All Rights Reserved.
I have done quite a bit of bragging about how much I love to experience a thunderstorm. Well, I need to revise that a bit. I do love thunderstorms as long as I am viewing them from the safety of our own front porch.
There was a chance of a storm when we set up for market Wednesday evening. But when is there not a chance of a storm in our humid Ohio Junes? We went ahead and unfolded our awning and spread our tables, as did the other homesteaders. Soon we were busy selling our goods. I was passing out samples of our freshly made strawberry jam, which then sold it’s self. As I looked up and down the market row, I could see that the whole place was packed with people visiting the stands.
Mary the Coffee Café lady hollered at us that she had heard on the radio that the storm was 13 miles away. We all remained optimists, this threatening cloud would do like many a June cloud does, just sprinkle us a little then go on. Surely all these people would not be here sampling and buying if a storm were about to break loose.
Wrong! Suddenly we were getting dumped on with what seemed like bucketfuls of water from the sky, and the thunder and lightning were clanging and slashing through the air. I was gathering up our goods by taking the four corners of the tablecloths and drawing them together then throwing them into the back of the cab of the pickup truck in big scoops. People were gathered under our awning for what little protection it provided. I looked around me and saw that the other homesteaders were all doing the same flurried dance that I was.
We were soaking wet and wondering if the storm was going to ease or get worse. I could see the other homesteaders holding unto their awnings to keep them from blowing across the parking lot. Hubby lowered the storm facing side of our awning as a brace against the breaking wind. My thoughts were torn; here we had people hiding under our awning, now turned lean to, but yet what a risk we were taking holding unto metal poles in a thunderstorm! Swishing by our feet was at least four inches of water as the rain pelted down turning the pavement that we stood upon, into a rushing riverbed. I had the strangest feeling in my gut as I witnessed one of Amish man Dan’s angel food cakes swirling past us in this stream.
I kneeled down and stroked the cheek of the little girl who stood trembling beside me as we offered to help her and her mother to their car. With no idea if the storm was going to cease or get worse we made the decision to get our broken awning into our pickup trucks cab. The people ran through the lightning to their vehicles as we gathered up the rest of our stuff. Mary and some of the other homesteaders were helping us; we were all silly with stress, giggling in the rain like a bunch of crazies.
Just as we about got everything loaded up the storm seemed to lose intensity and the sky showed signs of clearing. Already wet to our bones we stood in the remaining rain as the homesteaders who had not retreated gathered to share stories. We decided if anyone had been able to video tape the scene of us all caught in that storm that it would have won us all some big bucks on the Funniest Home Videos Show.
The storm passed on as the last remaining raindrops came down. Most of the homesteaders packed up and left but there was still an hour left of market time so a few of us decided to remain. We spread out our tablecloths to dry and plopped our produce back upon the tables. We did continue to sell as more patrons arrived after the storm.
One fellow who had probably been in a local bar getting soaked in a different kind of way during the storm came by and I watched as he messed with Amish man Dan. Then he came over to our stand. He kept looking at my flowers, which were still beautiful with their blossoms of light blue and white Hydrangeas and pink and red Sweet Williams. He kept looking at them and exclaiming, “seven dollars!” “ Seven dollars!”
I was trying to figure out if he thought they were cheap or what as I wrung the water from my skirt. Then he told me that he would buy one for four dollars but seven! That was the final straw! Couldn’t this man even see that I had just stood here through a thunderstorm with my very life at risk! And now he wanted to dicker with me about the price of my flowers! Now folks I don’t know if this is what Jesus would have done, I doubt it, but I ended up telling this fellow to go pick his own! Amish man Dan got a big kick out of this and bent over in a big belly laugh. Meanwhile Hubby was warming up his fist in case it would be needed if his wife got herself into deep water. Deep water, hah!
All in all we were glad that we stayed as some of our favorite customers came by. One of Hubby’s honey fans bought five jars to take with her on a trip to England. She just loooooves our honey she told us. The breeze left over from the storm helped dry our clothing and a group of us decided to go out to eat at the Mexican restaurant afterwards. We must have been the most boisterous bunch at the place as we shifted our stress into laughter with storm reminiscing.
Brian, one of the homesteaders who is a bit on the ornery side had viewed the storm as a chance for a wet t-shirt contest as he checked out the drenched females. I kept my thick apron on until my shirt dried! The fellows at the restaurant decided that they were going to get back at Brian and next Saturday at Market he is going to be called forward for a special award. Brian is going to be presented with a wet t-shirt trophy for himself! I cannot wait to see the look on his face at that moment.
Am I sorry? Am I sorry that sometimes our way of making a living leaves us drenched to the bone? A big resounding no! No, because we are free, free to flow like the June storms. And although we may be baked by the sun and plastered by the rain at times, our souls are living and growing. And we are working for something that we believe in, the bounty that we produce with love from our little spot on earth. But I must say, the next time that a big ole storm sweeps down with it’s free heart, I do hope that I am not out in it but safe at home on our front porch.
Copyright © 2004, by Trendle Ellwood. All Rights Reserved.
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