The end of November is a pretty desolate one at a farm.
Is cabbage a flower? By the end of the weekend, I had begun to love these guys.
By the time I had finished loading these bags of cabbage my fondness was as an all-time low. I need to brag now; every single bag on that trailer I lifted and placed. Every one.
Perhaps we pencil pushers live sad lives if this is all I have to brag about.
My son ‘helped’ drive the tractor.
Dang vandals cutting the heads off the radish!
Actually, my in-laws did that just prior to picking. Apparently they want the radish to dry out a little.
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