Amish v. Homeless

I think I have hyperactive milk.  It's funny, because nothing else about me is that hyper - no one ever called me a spaz when I was a kid - but I suppose if I were to overachieve in any physical category as an adult, it would be in milk production.  Apparently when you have a lot of milk your baby can drink like two gallons in five minutes, which is I think the case with Rex.  He starts to scream, sputter and buck after eating for just a little while, and while I get the feeling that for him nursing is like sucking on a garden hose turned up full blast, I do wish he'd chill out a little.  I'm fairly sure he's getting enough to eat, because he's the size of an fully grown koala bear, but Veronica could be sneaking him extra food on the sly.  I have no idea.  

The only time Rex is a calm nurser is in the middle of the night.  Then he's all business and wants to go right back to sleep, which is great, except then I am awake, and I can't always fall back to sleep because I am thinking all kinds of crazy thoughts.  Yesterday I swear I saw a pack of Amish people in Golden Gate Park, so I was up all night thinking about the Amish and how they wound up in San Francisco.  Did they fly here?  No, because they're not into that sort of thing (too much electricity or machinery or something) ... so did they take the buggy carpool all the way from Ohio?  Did they ride horses?  Cows?  Jesus Christ, did they walk?  And what are they eating?  Are they hunting, farming, or quilting?  If so, where?  Is there such thing as an Amish vacation?  Last night I could clearly see there was no way I was getting back to sleep with these questions running through my head.

So I kept wondering.  Where are they staying?  Amish hotels?  In the park, in tents next to the homeless people?  Oh, my.  Then I started thinking about what the Amish would think of the homeless, and vice versa.  I've heard stories about the homeless near Stowe Lake hunting mallards for dinner, I assume by chucking beer bottles at their heads or stunning them with secondhand skunkweed smoke.  It probably sucks to be a duck in Golden Gate Park.  I have a feeling the Amish would skip the ducks all together, and go straight for hunting the bison. More challenging to be sure, but think of all the useful things you can make from a buffalo hide with a little elbow grease (which is, I've heard, an Amish trademark). 

Maybe the Amish are here teaching the homeless a thing or two about living off the land, in which case, maybe they can teach them a more humane way to hunt mallards.  Or teach them how to make beautiful patchwork quilts from newspapers and garbage bags.  Now there's a bright idea.