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.