There's an expression about doors closing and windows opening. It's cliched. That's why I'm not quoting it directly. (I've been cautioned about the dangers of using cliche in writing and don't want to take any chances, things are going great - knock on wood.) I also wanted to add a picture from "Witness" but I'm at a car dealership right now and can't seem to link to it without giving Google additional access to my life.
Yesterday we went on a road trip and spent the afternoon in Lancaster, PA. Pretty much everything was closed. But there was sunshine after a week of rain, and good company. Clean air (except after a horse and buggy went by) and an abandoned petting zoo. Abandoned because there were plenty of animals but no people. We even got moonpies. The shops we'd hoped to see? No dice. But the trip? Great experience. #3 commented on what a great day it was several different times. They want to go back. Was it what we expected when we got up silly early on the weekend? Of course not, no plan survives first contact with the enemy, but it was hugely successful.
My introduction to the Amish was through the 1985 film, "Witness" staring Harrison Ford. He played the part very well. Now, thirty years later, he played his part in "Cowboys and Aliens" the same way and it looks old. Curious that. I've read quite a bit of analysis about "Witness" and all seem to agree that it was a very, very good film. But it destroyed a friendship - the co-writers never spoke to each other again after it was finally finished. There's an exchange in the film between the boy, Samuel, and his grandfather, Eli. Samuel has found John Book's gun. Eli tells him to put it down, that "What we take into our hand we take into our heart." Samuel assures him that he will only use it against "bad men." Eli asks him, "And these bad men, you know them by sight? You can see into their hearts?" It's a powerful scene that has stayed with me. The authors were friends and didn't know each other's hearts. How can we possibly know the heart of a stranger?