Fake Amish

Back in July, or possibly a million years ago (I can't really tell anymore), I flew out to the bustling metropolis of Springfield, IL to visit my dear friends Jenn and Andrew* for a long weekend.  

note: not to be confused with Jenny and Andrew

As Jenn and I were discussing our potential shenanigans for the weekend, she mentioned a meal at the Amish restaurant that sounded phenomenal.  Something about noodles and chicken and mashed potatoes.  I was in.  Then she began to elaborate about the business savvy of these so-called Amish, and things started to sound fishy.  Things like cell phones were mentioned.  I had to experience this firsthand.  Eons ago, I visited Amish country in Pennsylvania, but that was long before the common use of cell phones and the internet, so it was hard to discern just how out of line this seemed.  

I officially called the first strike when I discovered that these midwestern Amish have a website.  Now, you might be saying to yourself "they could have someone else run the website for them."  That wouldn't be a problem.  The problem is that these Amish advertise computer and web services that they provide.  

At this point, the excursion was as good as planned.  The next day we hopped in the car and drove out to Rockhome Gardens for some Amish fun.  After we walked past the coke machines and the outdoor speaker system at the entrance, we found this handy dandy map of the layout.  

Apparently the midwestern Amish are haunted and believe in mythological characters.  I don't want to speculate about "Granny's Bloomers" at all.  

We then realized that this place charged $15 just to enter and spend more money at their shops, so we bolted to the free Amish market down the road.  Here is what we found first: 

Is this what they harvest on their farms? Lego candy?

Assorted Color Fish, Swedish?

At least they did seem to be having the bees work hard at making honey. 

This door knob was not sealed or guarded in any way.  I was really tempted to open it and wreak havoc. Jenn wouldn't let me. 

This is where it got out of control.  Brand-name Jelly Belly?!?!

That was about as much fake Amish market as I could take.  We headed into the downtown square area to investigate some of the antique shops, hoping for more treasures.  We found them.  Sort of. 

Make sure you guys read that - my winsome charm is overpowering.  For reals.  

I really liked this next dude. 

That same store also sold old Danielle Steele novels.  Clearly not literature that adheres to the standards of Amish living.  

Next we headed to an "Amish thrift store" where we found items that were priced beyond the limits of our collective imagination.  Things like $250 as the sale price for a vest that was purchased and never worn in 1981.  

I did find this sweet sale for Mother of the Bride wear and decided to check it out.  

Check!  I most certainly have no impending wedding as of yet, but I thought this was too good to pass up for WonderMadre to don someday in the distant future at my nuptials.  

All in all, it was a weird day.  Really weird.  The company was fabulous though and it was hard to say goodbye to Jenn and Andrew and their fetus Duke.  They were keeping his name a surprise, so I christened him myself.  

6ish weeks later, they are the proud parents (and I am the super proud pseudo aunt) of precious little Amos.  Check out the handsome devil yourself: