Sometimes, when we're in the thick of preparations, we have a bad habit of asking ourselves questions we already know the answer to. But sometimes those questions lead somewhere interesting.
The Spring Plant Sale has grown every year we've run it — in size, in festivities, and in relevance. Where we once grew thousands of plants, we're now growing tens of thousands. Where we once featured only annuals, we now include native plants, and Jeff even launched a native plant nursery with his students to deepen their knowledge of natives.
But the plants, as beautiful as they are, are just one part of the picture.
We grew the festivities intentionally — not just to make the day fun, but to create more points of connection. Farm wagon rides, sheep shearing, potato sack races, student-drawn caricatures, food trucks, live student music performances, and conversations with student growers who can walk you through their recommendations. Each of these is an invitation: to connect with the land, with the people who tend it, and with each other as a community.
Those connections matter — especially in a moment when so many of us feel pulled apart or overwhelmed by the noise of the world.

Think about sheep shearing. It's nearly a lost skill, and watching it happen — up close, with your family — isn't just entertaining. It's a reminder that fiber, like food, comes from somewhere real. It comes from land that requires knowledge, care, and skill to steward. Experiencing that firsthand reconnects us to the agricultural systems that provide for all of us.

This is something we wrote about recently for Lake County Partners: that a thriving local community depends on more than business development — it depends on skilled, engaged, and connected people. The Spring Plant Sale is one of the places where that connection gets built, quietly, one interaction at a time. When you chat with a student grower about which tomato variety to try this year, you're not just getting a plant recommendation. You're participating in a local food economy and a career pathway that makes this whole region more resilient.

And then there are the students themselves. Seeing them take pride in their work is one of the genuine thrills of this event. Students who gave up eight hours of their Saturday to serve customers. Newly hired interns being trained by returning animal husbandry interns — peer to peer — on how to care for animals and talk with the public about them. These aren't small moments. They're the building blocks of a workforce that understands where food comes from, values agricultural knowledge, and is ready to contribute — whether that means growing food, designing systems, or delivering the kind of real, lived experiences that no app can replicate.
So does a spring plant sale really matter?
We both already know the answer. And now, so does your garden.