Only in Indiana. My Dad e-mailed to let me know that he’d narrowly missed being involved in a hit-and-run Saturday night… with an Amishman’s runaway team of Clydesdale horses.
Only in Indiana. My Dad e-mailed to let me know that he’d narrowly missed being involved in a hit-and-run Saturday night… with an Amishman’s runaway team of Clydesdale horses.
rdh
November 11, 2003 — 12:10 pm
I think im traumatized by the whole incident, I may never be the same again.
Kris
November 11, 2003 — 1:55 pm
Remind me never to buy you a Budweiser. 🙂
Jenny
November 12, 2003 — 7:02 am
Every time my old roommate gets stuck in New Jersey by a farmer taking his cows across the road, she calls me. She went to mom’s w/ me once and Shipshewana is forever etched in her brain. 🙂
amy
November 12, 2003 — 4:57 pm
giggles.
I’m glad he’s ok.
miss helen
November 13, 2003 — 10:06 pm
If I was going to die by a tragic accident, it would be by Clydesdale.
When we went to Berrigan, I would nearly hyperventilate when we saw anything that was extraordinarily rural, like farmers taking cars across the road etc.
I have rural envy.
Kris
November 13, 2003 — 11:38 pm
You need to come visit Indiana, Helen. I took a couple friends from college home there on one break and they squealed every time they saw an Amish buggy. And there are *lots* of Amish buggies.
Jenny
November 14, 2003 — 12:05 pm
My friend from Buffalo wanted to know who cleaned up after the horses in the road. My response? Well, it’s not a parade and it *is* biodegradable.