When the Market Van Overheats (and You End Up Having a Picnic on the Sidewalk)

Running a homestead and getting to the farmers market each week takes a lot of coordination. Baked goods, packed crates, egg cartons, and a lot of prayer that nothing explodes. But this past weekend added a whole new twist: our market van overheated. Right after market. Right after we picked up our well-earned Chinese food.

We had just pulled away, a block from the market and almost an hour from home, when the van started hissing and steaming like a pressure canner gone rogue. I turned it off, and realized we weren’t going anywhere fast. So, with a trunk full of folding market chairs and a bag full of takeout, the boys and I did what any tired but resourceful farm family would do. We had a sidewalk picnic.

There we sat, eating General Tso’s chicken and chicken fried rice on a stretch of sidewalk like it was completely normal. Honestly, it kind of was. We've eaten in stranger places.

After a few calls, D left a church event for the community and drove all the way out to us. When he arrived, we came up with a plan to get the van to a nearby shop, and we called Leon, a friend from the market who used to work on cars years ago and still knows his way around a busted vehicle.

As we started pushing, two strangers walking by called out, “Need more horse power?!” and jumped right in without hesitation. It all happened so fast, by the time I got out from behind the wheel to thank them, they had already disappeared down the street like a couple of sidewalk angels. I never even got their names.

With all hands on deck, we managed to get the van to the shop, but for now, she’s out of commission. That means no markets this week while we wait for the verdict.

I’m so thankful for D’s willingness to drop everything and show up, for Leon’s steady help, and for two kind strangers who saw a need and jumped in with full hearts and strong legs.

This life isn’t always tidy or smooth. But even when things break down, there’s still good food, good people, and grace showing up in unexpected places. Sometimes, it looks like a van full of boys and folding chairs. Sometimes, it looks like lo mein on the sidewalk and strangers lending muscle.

We’ll keep baking, planning, and praying in the meantime, and we’ll see you at the market again just as soon as our van’s ready to roll.