HarrietTubmanPI I remember the great eyeball harvest of '78. Paw and I would sit out every afternoon watching the crop of eyeballs that we planted with our carefully selected corneal seeds back in late February.
As March and April rolled by and the snow melted and sun grew higher into the sky, the buds of our crop were larger than we had ever anticipated. We sat on the porch every day just watching the crop and knowing what a great summer was potentially before us.
As the June bugs crept up the wildflowers leading to the dusty road near the farm, I told Paw that maybe this year I could make things right with Sarah. I told him maybe this year I could take some of the money from our crop and make an honest woman from her and start our lives together in a new home.
Sarah... sweet Sarah. If I could only convey the tears that welled up in her eyes at the thought of a new life together. She knew. I knew. We had to make this summer count.
It was finally in August that the Harvest Moon signaled time for the crop to be sown and the eyeballs be plucked from the ground. We got up before the rooster crowed and warmed up the harvesters. We lined them up on one edge of the farm and started the engines.
That Thanksgiving we ate more than we had in all of the past Thanksgivings together. Paw was at the head of the table and Sarah and I were sitting side by side.
If only Maw was still around to see this day. She knew the eyeballs would see us through. She knew.