From the moment you pull onto the farm, you feel welcome. In fact, young Mose will accompany you, running like a happy puppy next to your car, all the way to the door of the quaint, rustic (how many ways to say dingy and small?) B and B. (Bed and Beets?)

After the manure fight and table making demo, you can sit in your room and actually request a bedtime story! Be careful not to drink too much beet wine (not included in price, we found out 40 dollars later), that stuff packs a wallop!

Breakfast was a cornucopia of beet-inspired dishes, washed down with beet juice (who knew?)

My husband and I have never felt more regular! I do recommend planning any flights for at least 6 hours after you leave Shrute Farms, if you know what I mean:)

Ah Beets, the miracle food. I have often wondered to myself since childhood if only there was a place for me to relax that incorporated my love of beets and home carpentry. Atlast there is! Mighty Schrute Farms. It is not just a B and B but a experience to cherish for a life time. I went for the America suite and I couldn't have felt more patriotic. The out house lent to the quaint charm. Being in the feilds with owner Dwight gave me a feeling of pride and hard work. The table making demonstration was truly a joy in itself. I only wish that they had a canning and pickling seminar. All and all my trip to Schrute Farms was something I will never forget. I give this trip destination a Gold Star. I hope to visit again soon.

Schrute farms was absolutely magnificent. Ehere els can one find such a mix of romance and history in one trip. The hilight of the trip for both my wife and I, was the exquisite guided tour of Honesdale, PA, by a strangely charming bearded young man. And the beets, oh we will never forget the beets. If you get a chance this jewel of Pennsylvania is an abolute must see. Would reccomend to all my friends.

I was awoken at dawn by the sound of a chainsaw. I sleepily stumbled downstairs to see Mose slaughtering a fresh suckling pig for our breakfast. The aroma of swine blood and honey-buckwheat pancakes with fresh gooseberry jam wafted through the air and my mouth began to water. After our hearty meal we all snuggled under a twisty willow tree and Dwight told bittersweet stories about his Großmutter Ursula's affair with Hermann Göring in junior high school.