We currently live in a region brimming with Pennsylvania Dutch culture and heritage—a vast departure from the town in which I was raised out in Jersey.
Observing the rich local dialect, clothing and art, the strong work ethic and camaraderie...total fascination for me.
Once a year, there's this auction down the road that blows my mind completely.
Thousands of people gather to bid on just about any and everything you could imagine—from furniture to flowers, live turkeys to tractors.
It's quite a show, for sure! Quite an experience.
I try to follow the jabbering auctioneers' cries, smile at the Mennonite children as they gather in circles- their faces sticky with ice cream, marvel at the rough-handed men in suspenders, who load their pickup trucks with the farm equipment they've collected.
Women gather inside as intricate handmade quilts are displayed and auctioned off, and I feel like an excited outsider, transported into the past.
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| Inside at the quilt auction |
The auction is always a welcome time warp for me—a reminder that life doesn't always have to be so complicated or as fast-paced as the auctioneer's yippin' twang.
It reminds me that it's good to get your feet dirty every now and then, to put aside vanity and newness in order to celebrate resourcefulness, community and the beauty in simplicity.
I get such an intense charge out of this event. There are no kiddie rides, no bright lights, music or scheduled entertainment acts. But there's a thrill in the air, I assure you.
It's just people...living and being—real people who dress differently but love the same.
Macht's gut!
XOXO From My Hearth to Yours
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