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When I was younger, my stepfather and I had very little in common. I really annoyed him with all my questions and constant chatter. He tried and tried to give me things to do that were interesting enough to keep my attention. I usually hurried to finish whatever it was and returned to him with more questions and chatter. Boy, would he get annoyed with me! "One of these days, I'm gonna find you something to do!" He would always say, intending that I was never busy enough to stay out of his hair.

One summer day, I noted that our strawberry patch was being eaten by bugs and chipmunks. I was really upset that my stepfather was allowing this to happen to "my" strawberries. I approached him with the question, "Why are you letting the strawberry patch go?" This made him very upset. He had evidently tried everything he knew to stop the destruction of our garden-box berry patch. He paced around for a while fuming from the top of his head while he contemplated a way to get rid of me.

"If you can figure out a way to save the berry patch, you can take over the whole box and put what YOU want in there next year." My stepfather had built boxes into the hillside as a way to overcome the sandy clay soil. He was very particular about what went where and how many plants were allowed into each box. The soil mixture in each box was different as well. He seemed to know everything about propagation, but would never answer my questions about much of anything. I was hooked, but I had to go for more.

"I get the whole box?" I asked trying to conceal my enthusiasm.

"The whole box." He answered.

"You have to teach me how to garden the right way too." I offered. He had taught me to never take the first deal that came along-his mistake!

"Fine. I'll teach you everything I know next spring."

"Deal."

I went on a search and discovery mission for the best way to save our beloved strawberries. There were carrots in the box as well. I didn't care for carrots much at the time, so I was strictly on the hunt for information to save the berries. I asked the neighbors. I asked my teachers. This was not an easy task, for it was summer and most teachers were on break. I asked the librarian. I asked anyone who was older than myself. Everyone. I had tried for nearly two weeks to save the patch, but was failing miserably. We were down to just a couple of sprigs of the vines left and I had not found a way to save the plants. I was about to give up when I had an

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