Where is the Eggplant?





My family and I took a mini vacation. Our destination was built around an auction my hubby wanted to attend. As we traveled whining roads, with a breathtaking rural backdrop of large white square farmhouses, my children’s excitement grew. The first sighting of a black carriage being pulled by a single horse was amazing.  The game started of counting how many we passed before we arrived at the hotel. Sighs were long and loud as we entered a small town, only to be replaced with shouts of glee when we exited and came across more. As much as I will cherish these memories, none will mean more to me than “Where is the Eggplant?”.

We had spent the day traveling the area and enjoying Amish Country, when we stopped at a farm supply store. As we started to walk thru the aisles, two of my yahoos went missing. I called them and followed the tiny voices to a seed display.  I rounded the front of the display and my oldest is standing there holding two seed packets and asked “Where is the eggplant?”.  Now I know this doesn’t seem like much, but my little man is living with autism. At that moment, my eyes welling with tears, my heart about to split, all the hard work was justified. Why you might ask? Four years ago, Shag Bark Hickory Farms didn’t exist. There was just a stay at home mom who fought tooth, nail and stick to help give her son those words. If we couldn’t afford the therapy, I researched and then used it with him. The local library was my best friend.  And if the library was my best friend, the garden was my sanity. After a pretty rough time, I read an article about programing being dropped for young adults pertaining to work assistance. Thankfully Michigan is still one of the states with assistance past the age of 18, but who knows how long that will last. I want my sons to be productive members of society, able to support themselves and a family if God is willing. We were already generations of a farming family and I love…. No NEED… to garden.   So that is how SBHF came about. It was not easy. My time was now divided, and it became the subject of a few disagreements. Blame it on my Irish ancestry and the inherited stubbornness, but this was it. The one thing that makes work, well NOT work.  But last year when we moved to the five acre plot, self-doubt ran wild. I don’t know how many times I heard “I don’t wanna pick the tomatoes”…. Lol.   It became a family joke and made my stomach hurt at the same time. Was all this going to be worthless in the end?

As I write this, just days later, the moment still brings tears to my eyes.  My hubby is just shaking his head, giving me a look that clearly states I am certifiable. But he was holding two seed packets he had already chosen. One was carrots, understandable since his 4H project is rabbits. The other packet being his favorite fruit, was watermelon. He picked them out, with a desire to GROW seeds. Maybe..... I AM doing this right. Eggplant is a mystery to me,  on the whys. We couldn’t find a single packet on the racks that day, so he was disappointed when we left the store. But mom has that wonderful bucket full of seeds and will make darn sure he has some come planting time.