The rolling mill at a neighborhood called Mascot was our next stop – if only for pictures of the huge watermill and the dam. It apparently grinds corn into flour, and is open to the public. We didn’t go in, as a large tourbus was parked in front of it.
We paused at another out of the way Amish farm shop – a little building where they sell their wares of cooking, quilts and crafts. Mum took great delight in talking with the modest natives within, asking them all about the culture and such while Pop and I waited outside, patiently taking photos of the fields of tobacco, dotted with improbably high power line towers, and visiting the small menagerie of animals behind the shop.