My first week at the orchard has come to a close. It's Saturday and raining; I can hear John wood-working in the barn down the road. Emily is canning tomatoes in the kitchen; Eliza is on a boat; Rob is kayaking.
There are a couple large cabbages ready for picking and I think the leeks have reached a good size--I think I'll make this Japanese pancake today (minus the flour) and begin reading Endurance by Alfred Lansing.This ugly little bugger might be the world's most perfect food. It's called a "Trailman," and tastes like no food (or apple) I've ever had in my life.