Monday Harvest Day

Monday is our longest day.  We harvest for around 75 shareholders and market customers.  Tomorrow I know the team will be cutting lettuce and kale and pulling onions.  I'm sure some of our regular kale fiends will start to show up at the market booth--in fact I bet we'll see a few starting this Tuesday.  We are especially looking forward to a particular few customers who regularly stock up on dark leafy greens for juicing.  Those customers have the clearest, healthiest and most vibrant skin...
While writing this I am listening to the pleasant howling of coyotes down by the creek (pleasantly evisioning their [not-so-pleasant] interaction with our bunny population).  This is definitely the year of the rabbit, on Chinese calendars and on ours.  In previous years we haven't had an issue with bunnies in the vegetable beds, but this year we've had to set traps and think bad thoughts about this inconveniently cute animal.  Why do they have to have such a perky tail?  And why such big, sad eyes?
Also new on the farm is the long, slinky body of an underaged weasel.  Todd and I witnessed this creature last week while washing radishes and hope it meets with death before getting any bigger.   We do have chickens to think about.  I have not always had such violent thoughts.
Violence is all around on the farm: in the sky, underground and embedded in the consciousness of bugs and birds and mammals.  On most Mondays violence shows itself at the base of a stem dripping milky white blood from a lettuce knife.
I have not always had such violent thoughts.  See you soon!  -Julia

Megan, a three-year veteran of the farm, looking fierce.