Jessica Latshaw

musician. writer. dancer.

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When my city-slicker boyfriend visits the amish farm.

Posted By on August 19, 2013 in Funny Stuff, Loved Ones, Thoughts and Feelings | 8 comments

I think I need to write this story down.

See, it’s just so perfect. So very wonderfully orchestrated, that you’d think it was set up. Or written down. It sounds like something that would happen to a character in an L. M. Montgomery book–and Ann-with-an-‘E’ would write it down in her journal, of course.

Last week, I brought TJ home for a very short visit to my parents’ home in Pennsylvania. TJ, being a huge fan of locally grown produce, was, my parents decided, just the right candidate to bring to a nearby Amish farm.

Yeah, so my parents aren’t exactly city folk.

Though, my mom would want me to point out that she was raised by a father who worked at 30 Rock in Manhattan and very regularly went into the city with him. So maybe she is sort of a city folk.

That said, they live in the country and I love it.

TJ does, too; he just has an underlying concern about bugs when visiting. He doesn’t even specify. Just “bugs,” in general. I get it, in a way–they can be disconcerting. I mean something that can bite and fly? I repeat: disconcerting.

So we go to the Amish Farm.

“Oh man, guys,” I say as we get out of the car and walk towards the shop where they sell their produce, “They’re closed—the lights are off.”

“THEY’RE AMISH,” all three of them say to me through gritted teeth (God forbid the Amish overhear that they are, in fact, Amish!), “Of course they have no lights!”

Oh, right.

We walk in and peruse.

It’s a fabulous assortment of the usual end of the summer garden offerings, but see, with probably the same amount of passion TJ vehemently avoids bugs, he seeks out figs. So it is only a matter of time before TJ asks the Amish girl behind the counter if they have any.

“Yes,” she says.

“Where are they?” he asks.

“In the barn.”

TJ gives it another beat before finally asking, “Could I see them?”

“Yes,” she answers, and then communicates to a guy in the back–Isaac, we find out later–that we want to see the figs.

Isaac comes out and motions TJ to follow him as he leaves the shop.

My mom says aloud, “Well, I like figs, too,” and joins them. My pop and I round out the group–me holding Luna–and soon we are all outside, following Isaac the Amish Man as he resolutely walks towards the barn.

“Do you want to butcher them?” Isaac asks TJ, momentarily pausing for his question.

“No–just eat them,” TJ answers, sounding a little baffled, “Whatever Jess wants to do with them, I guess,” he adds.

Whatever Jess wants to do with them?” I think.

First of all, why is TJ referring to my name like the Amish man actually KNOWS me? Second of all, when does anyone ever butcher a fig?

The whole thing is starting to feel weird, but it all happens so fast, that nobody has time to think much about it.

Now let me paint you a picture. That morning, there was a tornado in the area. Which means there was also tons of rain. The small nearby creek is now swollen and has swallowed the banks on either side. Everywhere is muddy–especially around the barn where the animals graze.

TJ is wearing his nice adidas sneakers and favorite jeans. He is starting to walk through the mud slower and slower, gingerly picking through it with a high step that would impress the Royal Army. By the time Isaac is all the way up to the gate, TJ is walking on the balls of his feet, unable to avoid the muddy patches because the whole darn thing is one swampy, muddy patch.

We notice that Isaac is walking towards a large gate with even larger pigs behind it. My parents and I have stopped following them now, as we realize what has happened. My pop starts laughing, leans over and says, “I think TJ may have gotten more than he bargained for here.”

In a flash, Isaac swings wide the gate and out stampedes five humungous pigs.




TJ starts running backwards, not caring nearly so much about the mud now, as he does about the pigs that are charging towards him. He yells to Isaac, “I think there was a misunderstanding–FIGS! I said FIGS! NOT PIGS!” as he runs, and barely manages to hop out of the pasture and close the gate in the snouts of the noisy pigs.

My parents and I can hardly contain ourselves.

I mean, Oh my goodness, you just can’t even make this kind of thing up.

Isaac realizes what has transpired, and starts laughing, too.

TJ joins in and we are all just staring at the pigs, cracking up while standing on the rain soaked Pennsylvania ground.

“My son grows figs, actually,” Isaac finally says, once he manages to control his laughter.

“Do you have them here?” TJ asks whistfully.

“No,” he answers, and that is that.

But man, what a day at the Amish Farm!


  1. Lindsay August 19, 2013

    Oh my goodness! I laughed so hard while reading this! Amazing. Thank you for sharing this story.

    • jessica August 20, 2013


      It was just too amazing to keep to myself, really. Plus, I wanted to write down all the details, so I would make sure to always have them!

  2. Robert August 19, 2013

    LOL! I FIGured out the surprise as you all headed towards the barn. Fun story though 🙂 Pigs & Figs go well together by the way. Cut a fig in half, schmear a tablespoon of fresh Robiola cheese on the cut side, wrap that all with a strip of Speck(or Prosciutto), secure with a toofpick, and grill for maybe 30 seconds each side. Then drizzle some Balsamic Vinegar on it. Not sure if that sounds like a lot of work, but it’s really pretty quick and easy. How did Luna like the pigs?

    • jessica August 20, 2013

      You know, that sounds quite delicious, Robert–thank you!

      And Luna seemed unfazed by the pigs. But that was probably because I was holding her–had she had more freedom, I’m sure she would’ve wanted to go up and say hi to them:)

  3. Joyce Simonian August 20, 2013

    Jessica..very funny…my mother who lives in Lancaster County has a fig tree but the figs aren’t ripe yet…if you wait a couple weeks they will be good….Jeff Snyder knows where my mom lives…she’d be happy to share…

    • jessica August 20, 2013

      Awww that’s so sweet! I love that your mom has a fig tree–TJ’s parents in NJ have one as well!

      So good to hear from you, Joyce:)

  4. Rob the first August 20, 2013

    Hilarious. You need to buy TJ some Timberlands or something. I hope he knows that it probably wasn’t just mud he was stepping in:)

    • jessica August 20, 2013

      Haha I think that he was just grateful that he was not trampled by pigs when all was said and done:)

      But yes, timberlands would have definitely served him well at the Amish farm!

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