Iowa Windmills

The meadows of eastern Iowa rested.
It was Sunday.
But the modern windmills freckling the landscape continued to work, violating the Sabbath.
Actually the Sabbath is Saturday, it being the seventh day.
The Sabbath was given to Israel, not the church.  It is still Saturday, not Sunday, and has never been changed.  But the Sabbath is part of the Old Testament Law, and Christians are free from the bondage of the Law (Galatians 4:1-26; Romans 6:14).  The Apostle Paul said...


Yeah, so those windmills were really neat.


A brown sign led me through the hilly green pastures of Elk Horn.
I wanted to see what this Danish windmill was all about.

VELKOMMEN!

I do like when signs shout.

So I parked the van by some farm equipment and walked into the giant Danish windmill.

Actually, this type of mill is called a smock mill.
M'kay.
Smock you.


Built in 1848 in Norre Snede, Denmark, the mill was dismantled, shipped, and reassembled in Iowa in 1976 to coincide with the debut of ABC's What's Happening!!
I said to coincide with debut of ABC's What's Happening!!
Why isn't my inner dummy correcting me?
...for in six days the Lord Made the heavens and the earth, and on the seventh day he abstained from work and rested (Exodus 31:16-17).  In Deuteronomy 5, Moses restates...
I see.
Anyhow, the Elk Horn, Iowa windmill remains the only authentic working Danish windmill in the United States.
"Would you like a tour?" asked the nice lady.
The tour cost money and I had blown the last of my per diem in Nebraska.
"Ummmmmmmmmmm...No!"
The nice lady nodded and began the tour without me.
I flipped over a price tag on a Danish flag hoodie.
$300.
And left.

Just south of a Hans Christian Andersen bust sat a sod house.  
I stuck my head in it.
"Come over here to this side," said the volunteer docent.
I ended up getting a free twenty minute tour of the VikingHjem, a replica of a Viking smithy's home circa 900 AD.
Elk Horn is the largest, rural Danish community outside of Denmark.
Danes from all over the midwest flock here to get their Danish on.
They don't fuck around.
This kid from Omaha made all these tools and helmets and shields and weapons.
Sharp weapons.
On Labor Day they reenact Viking battles from the Dark Ages.
"Whoa!" I laughed, "they better be careful!"
"Actually, one of them did cut their face last year."
She made a downward slash on her cheek.
I liked the docent.
She wasn't Danish, but she liked that she was doing this.
I did, too.

The Omaha kid had also crafted these pewter Thor's Hammer pendants.  
They looked bad ass.
I played with the adjustable leather cord necklace.
I wanted one.
Who are you, King Diamond?
Yeah, you're right.
I don't quite have his falsetto.


It was time to get on the road.
I wondered if my inner dummy knew any Black Sabbath lyrics?
No, but in Colossians 2-

What is this that stands before me?

Figure in black which points at me,

Turn around quick, and start to run,

Find out I'm the chosen one,

Oh no!

(Ozzy 1:1-5)